Crown of Exile

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<<run UIBar.stow (true);>><div class="heading">Crown of Exile</div><div class="borderstyle">p</div> <center>When your village is razed to the ground, you're left fleeing with an exiled prince. You can trust no one but each other. Your father's dying wish was to protect the prince, but can you really trust a man who was exiled from his kingdom? Journey across the borders in search of allies. But in this deadly game of treachery and deceit, there is more than just the prince's life at stake. Will you flee from the past that haunts you or will you embrace the fate that awaits you? The decision is yours. <center>//Please note that Crown of Exile is intended for mature audiences and contains scenes of violence, mild sexual content and vulgar language. It is currently rated for 17+ players.//</center> [[Prologue.]]</center>

<span style="color: goldenrod;">''Character Description:''</span> <span style="color: goldenrod;">''Name:'' $name</span> <span style="color: goldenrod;">''Your location:'' $location</span> <span style="color: goldenrod;">''Year:'' $year</span>

<span style="color: goldenrod;">Written by Ramona G</span>

<span style="color: goldenrod;">Demo Version 1.8</span>

<span style="color: goldenrod;">Crown of Exile</span>

<<set $location to "Somewhere along the coast.">> <<set $year to "Aedes, 523">> <div class="timeline">Somewhere along the coast.</div> //Mama is weeping.// She almost never weeps. The air smells like rain and blood. Behind you, smoke billows into the sky. Mama clutches to you tightly. Her fingers dig into your skin, but you do not complain. You know that there is something wrong. There is soot on your hands and ash in your clothes. A cold breeze brushes against your face and you shiver. Mama bundles you closer to her chest. You are tired and everything hurts. You do not know how long you have been fleeing, but Mama promises you that you will be safe. You want to ask her if she will be safe too, but Mama is still weeping and the smoke is still in sight. You are afraid. It must show, because Mama turns to smile at you. [["We are nearly there, my sweet daughter," she says.|next][$gender to "woman", $heir to "daughter", $MChim to "her", $MChe to "she", $MChis to "her", $gender to "woman"]] [["We are nearly there, my dear son," she says.|next][$gender to "man", $heir to "son", $MChis to "his", $MChe to "he", $MChim to "him", $gender to "man"]]

<div class="back"><<link "Return" $return>><</link>></div> <div class="menu">About you:</div> <<if $charactercreate is true>> <center>You are <span style="color: goldenrod;">$name</span>, a young <span style="color: goldenrod;">$gender</span> who hails from Ishari. You have <span style="color: goldenrod;">$eye</span> eyes and <span style="color: goldenrod;">$hair</span> hair. Your skin is a healthy <span style="color: goldenrod;">$skin</span> hue. Compared to others like you, you are considered to be <span style="color: goldenrod;">$height</span> in height.<<if $chp7_burn is true>> Your right palm is scarred, bearing a mark similar to a burn.<</if>></center> <<else>> <center>You have not completed creating your character yet.</center> <</if>> <<if $imteusidol is true>> You currently carry a small, clay idol of Imteus, the God of Water and Life. You received the idol from a strange merchant in Salt Bay. Imteus is said to help with politics. <<elseif $gabusidol is true>> You currently carry a small, clay idol of Gabus, the Goddess of the Underworld and Death. You received the idol from a strange merchant in Salt Bay. Gabus is said to help with warfare. <<elseif $atsesidol is true>> You currently carry a small, clay idol of Atses, the God of Skies and the Stars. You received the idol from a strange merchant in Salt Bay. Atses is said to help with leadership. <</if>> <<if $ring_wear is true>>You wear a gold ring, engraved with swirling patterns depicting the stars around your index finger. It was a gift from Prince Irus.<<else>><</if>><<if $chp2_book is true>>You carry a hefty book that was gifted to you by Sir Oren. The book details <<if $chp2_bookchoice is 1>>the rise and fall of the different leaders.<<elseif $chp2_bookchoice is 2>>religious practices throughout the ages.<<elseif $chp2_bookchoice is 3>>historic warfare.<</if>><</if>> <<if $showspiritAncient is true and $showSolus is true and $showpolitics is true and $showlead is true and $showblades is true>> <div class="back">To view what each statistic represents, click on the statistic name below.</div> <center><<link "Spirituality:">> <<script>> Dialog.setup("Explanation"); Dialog.wiki("Spirituality tracks how spiritual you are. Do you favour the Ancient Ones of Ishari or do you favour the Cyrene deity of Solus? Are you faithful or do you scorn the gods?"); Dialog.open(); <</script>> <</link>></center> <center><span style="color: goldenrod;">''Ancient Ones: $spiritual_ancient''</span></center> <center><progress @value="$spiritual_ancient" min="0" max="100"></progress></center> <center><span style="color: goldenrod;">''Solus: $spiritual_solus''</span> <center><progress @value="$spiritual_solus" min="0" max="100"></progress></center> <center><<link "Politics:">> <<script>> Dialog.setup("Explanation"); Dialog.wiki("How well do you understand the politics of kingdoms? Politics tracks your ability to understand geographical issues, treaties and different cultures."); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>> <center><span style="color: goldenrod;">''$politics''</span></center> <center><progress @value="$politics" min="0" max="100"></progress></center> <center><<link "Leadership:">> <<script>> Dialog.setup("Explanation"); Dialog.wiki("Are you a true-born leader? Leadership tracks your ability to command others and lead people to performing certain actions."); Dialog.open(); <</script>> <</link>> <center><span style="color: goldenrod;">''$leadership''</span></center> <center><progress @value="$leadership" min="0" max="100"></progress></center> <center><<link "Might:">> <<script>> Dialog.setup("Explanation"); Dialog.wiki("How strong are you? Might tracks how skilled you are in physical activity and your skills in blades and weaponry."); Dialog.open(); <</script>> <</link>> <center><span style="color: goldenrod;">''$blades''</span></center> <center><progress @value="$blades" min="0" max="100"></progress></center> <<else>> <</if>> <<if $chp7_sword is true>><center><<link "Divinity:">> <<script>> Dialog.setup("Explanation"); Dialog.wiki("Do you possess the divine blessings? Divinity tests your divine manifestations."); Dialog.open(); <</script>> <</link>> <center><span style="color: goldenrod;">''$divinity''</span></center> <center><progress @value="$divinity" min="0" max="100"></progress></center><</if>>

The farther away from the smoke you travel, the colder it becomes. You become aware of the roar of water and the crashing of waves. Peering over Mama's shoulder, you notice the darkness of the sea. It's not your sea, not the beach that you know. Your gaze returns to Mama. Her eyes are wet and red. <<set $pr to 0>> [["Where are we going?" you ask, your voice small.|prlg1][$pr +=1]] [["Why are you crying?" you question, trembling.|prlg1][$pr +=2]] [["Mama, I'm scared," you breathe.|prlg1][$pr +=3]] [[You hug Mama tighter.|prlg1][$pr +=4]]

<<if $pr is 1>> Mama rubs your back gently. Her smile is small and doesn't meet her eyes. You do not know why Mama looks so sad. "We're going somewhere safer, my Sweetling," she whispers. "You will be safe there. I promise you will love it. There is a big sea and you will have lots of new friends." She presses a soft kiss atop your head. Slowly, she draws to a stop. "Look, Sweetling, we are here." <<elseif $pr is 2>> "Oh, my Sweetling," Mama murmurs. "Do not worry about me. I will keep us safe." "But why do you cry?" you ask. "It is nothing but the rain in the air," Mama replies. "Do not pay much mind to me, my Sweetling." She presses a soft kiss atop your head. Slowly, she draws to a stop. "Look, Sweetling, we are here." <<elseif $pr is 3>> "I know you are scared, my Sweetling," Mama whispers. "But you need not be. I will keep you safe. Nothing will harm you." You nestle closer into Mama's hold, relishing in her warmth. "There is nothing to fear, Sweetling. You will be protected," Mama says. She presses a soft kiss atop your head. Slowly, she draws to a stop. "Look, Sweetling, we are here." <<elseif $pr is 4>> Mama squeezes you back just as tightly. Her arms are thin, but they feel solid around you. You snuggle in closer, never wanting to leave Mama's hold. "There, my Sweetling. Are you feeling better?" Mama asks. You nod. Mama smiles kindly at you. "Do not fret, Sweetling. You will be safe and warm soon," she says. She presses a soft kiss atop your head. Slowly, she draws to a stop. "Look, Sweetling, we are here." <</if>> [[Next.|prlg2]]

You turn to look at where //here// is. It is still dark and the clouds are clumped together. You strain your eyes against the rain and the darkness. Slowly, you notice the shape of a cottage. It is small and sits alone along the path. Mama offers you a soft smile, before she carries you towards the cottage. You cling to Mama tightly. She is warm and you are shivering. Mama presses another kiss to your forehead. Her cheeks are wet. She looks sadder than before. Turning from your gaze, Mama reaches out and knocks against the worn, wooden door. A moment passes, before Mama knocks again, louder this time. The door remains closed. Thunder rumbles overhead, like the sound of a thousand hooves beating against the ground. Mama frowns, before she raises her fist once more to strike the wooden door. As she brings her hand down, the door swings open. There is brightness. A flickering lamp illuminates the doorway. Before you stands a man, one you've never seen before. "Salyra," he breathes. "What are you doing here?" [[Next.|prlg3]]

//Salyra.// No one calls Mama by her name at home. It's always //Sal// or //Lyra//. You stare at this stranger, this man who looks at Mama as if he wants to shut the door in her face. Mama moves closer to him and you instinctively bury your face into her neck. "We need your help," Mama breathes. "We?" the man asks. Mama nudges you and you turn to look up at the man. This close, you notice the fine beard against his jaw. Your eyes meet his and you shrink back under his stare. His eyes are dark and hard as they regard you. A flicker of recognition flashes through his gaze. "Ahlf," Mama says. "There is no one else to ask." When he says nothing, Mama's voice grows colder. "If not for me then do it for your $heir." [[Next.|prlg4]]

Mama's words seem to cut through the man, //Ahlf//. He stands straighter and ushers you both inside. You let out a breath as Mama steps inside the cottage. The air is warm, a cascading blanket against the bitter chill of the night. For the first time since you both started running, Mama lets out a relieved breath. You let your eyes roam around the cottage. It is small inside. A small fireplace sits at the far end of the room, dying embers glowing dimly in the shadows. Mama holds you closer, as she moves further into the room. A wooden table fills up the space beside the fireplace, accompanied by two chairs. Mama helps you onto one chair, wrapping you in her shawl before she turns to face Ahlf. "Why are you here?" Ahlf questions. His eyes move past towards you. "Why did you bring $MChim?" "This is your $heir, Ahlf," Mama hisses. "We had nowhere else to go." Ahlf stares at you again. He looks afraid, as if you're someone he would have preferred never knowing. Mama scowls at Ahlf, before turning to look at you gently. "This is... [[...Aena.|prlg5][$name to "Aena"]] [[...Rubari.|prlg5][$name to "Rubari"]] [[...Dracul.|prlg5][$name to "Dracul"]] [[...Enki.|prlg5][$name to "Enki"]] <<textbox "$name" "Unknown" "prlg5">>

<<if $name is "Rana">>It seems as if you have chosen a name that belongs to one of the important characters in the game. Please choose another name to avoid confusion. Your name is... [[...Aena.|prlg5][$name to "Aena"]] [[...Rubari.|prlg5][$name to "Rubari"]] [[...Dracul.|prlg5][$name to "Dracul"]] [[...Enki.|prlg5][$name to "Enki"]] <<textbox "$name" "Unknown" "prlg5">><<elseif $name is "rana">>It seems as if you have chosen a name that belongs to one of the important characters in the game. Please choose another name to avoid confusion. Your name is... [[...Aena.|prlg5][$name to "Aena"]] [[...Rubari.|prlg5][$name to "Rubari"]] [[...Dracul.|prlg5][$name to "Dracul"]] [[...Enki.|prlg5][$name to "Enki"]] <<textbox "$name" "Unknown" "prlg5">><<elseif $name is "RANA">>It seems as if you have chosen a name that belongs to one of the important characters in the game. Please choose another name to avoid confusion. Your name is... [[...Aena.|prlg5][$name to "Aena"]] [[...Rubari.|prlg5][$name to "Rubari"]] [[...Dracul.|prlg5][$name to "Dracul"]] [[...Enki.|prlg5][$name to "Enki"]] <<textbox "$name" "Unknown" "prlg5">><<else>> <<set $codeIshari to true>><<set $codeBloodGuard to true>><<notify>>New Codex Entry<</notify>> "Why are you here, Salyra?" Ahlf asks, this time, his voice is hard. "Why did you leave Ishari?" Mama purses her lips. In the dimness of the room, only illuminated by a few lamps, Mama looks angry and frightening. You have seen Mama angry before. She once scolded the boys from your home for stealing your sweetened rice balls. They had been so afraid of Mama that they ran without even looking back. But now, Mama looks at Ahlf so coldly that you're surprised the bearded man does not flee. "Ishari is not safe," Mama mutters. "Not for $name." Ahlf's gaze narrows. "What happened?" "The Blood Guard," Mama whispers. "They came after us in Ishari. Everything is gone." [[Next.|prlg6]]<</if>>

"You fool!" Ahlf roars. "You'll have led them straight to the cottage." Ahlf's voice is loud. You flinch at his tone and reach out for Mama. Mama squeezes your arm in reassurance, but it does not ease your fear. "I know that," Mama hisses. "But they will not come to the cottage." "What do you mean?" Ahlf demands. "They will follow you until they find you." "They will follow me and find me elsewhere," Mama replies. There is silence. You stare up at Mama. Her eyes are wet, but her expression is determined. "You cannot truly think that you can outrun the Blood Guard," Ahlf retorts. "I am not planning on outrunning them, Ahlf," Mama replies. "I only need to lead them away from $name." Ahlf scowls. "No. You cannot do this. I will not-" "You will do this for our child," Mama growls. "For your $heir." [[Next.|prlg7]]

Mama turns, kneeling before you by the chair. Her dark hair is damp from the rain and a few strands cling to her face. She smiles at you and this time, she does not hide her tears as she weeps. "My Sweetling," Mama whispers. "I need to go. You will stay here, with Ahlf, your father. He will keep you safe." <<set $mothergo to 0>> [["No, Mama. Please do not go," you cry.|prlg8][$mothergo += 1]] [["I am coming with you," you say, determined.|prlg8][$mothergo += 2]] [["Take me with you," you weep.|prlg8][$mothergo += 3]] [["I am not staying with this man," you declare.|prlg8][$mothergo += 4]] [["Alright, Mama," you agree.|prlg8][$mothergo +=5]]

<<if $mothergo is 1>> "No, Mama. Please do not go," you cry. Mama reaches out and holds you to her chest. She is trembling, but she does not let go. You do not know this man, this Ahlf who Mama says is your father. It has only been you and Mama for as long as you can remember. You do not want Mama to leave. "I am sorry my Sweetling," Mama breathes. "I must go. I promise that you will be safe here." "Don't go," you weep. Your lips taste salty, like the roaring sea outside. Mama smiles at you, but there is little joy in her expression. Reaching out, she brushes your face, wiping the tears that stain your cheeks. "I must go, $name. I will not let them come for you," Mama whispers. "You must stay here." "Will you come back?" you ask. Mama does not answer you. She only places a soft kiss against your brow, before she stands and turns away. <<elseif $mothergo is 2>> "I am coming with you," you say, determined. "My brave Sweetling," Mama murmurs. "You are so courageous." She pulls you close to her chest, her warmth seeping into you. You move to stand from your chair. You will not stay behind while Mama leaves. Mama smiles gently as you stand, her eyes watery as she gazes down at you. "I am going with you," you repeat. "I am sorry, Sweetling, but this is a journey I must take alone," Mama breathes. "You cannot come with me, it is too dangerous." Your fingers tremble as you stare up at Mama. She holds onto your shoulders, her fingers trembling against you. You do not want to stay here, not with this man who Mama says is your father. You want to go with Mama. "I must go, $name," Mama whispers. "They will not have you, I will not let them. Stay here, Sweetling. You will be safe here." You reach out once more for Mama, but she eases you away. She leans down and presses a kiss softly to your brow. Her cheeks are stained with tears and you realise that so are yours. Slowly, Mama turns away from you. <<elseif $mothergo is 3>> "Take me with you," you weep. Your eyes sting with tears as your voice wobbles. Mama frowns at your distress as she reaches out and pulls you into a tight embrace. She smells familiar and her hold is warm. You do not want to stay behind, without Mama. You want to go with her, to be by her side. "You must stay here, Sweetling," Mama breathes. "It is not safe to bring you with me." "Don't leave me," you sob. Mama's face crumples and she places a soft kiss against your cheek. Her fingers tighten around you, her embrace is crushing and yet you never want her to let go. "I am sorry, my Sweetling," Mama murmurs. "It is dangerous. You must stay here, with your father." Your eyes are blurry and you taste the salt of your tears against your lips. Mama brushes your eyes gently, her thumb soft against your skin. You want to go with Mama. Even if it's dangerous. "They will not have you, $name," Mama says. "I will keep you safe." Mama loosens her grip around you and stands. You reach out for Mama's skirts, but she pulls away, her expression determined even though she's weeping too. Slowly, she turns away from you and no matter how much you cry, Mama does not look back. <<elseif $mothergo is 4>> "I am not staying with this man," you declare. Your voice comes out angry and defiant. For a moment, Mama seems surprised by your outburst. And then, she smiles kindly at you. She reaches out and smooths her palm against your forehead. "My stubborn Sweetling," Mama murmurs. "You are as stubborn as this man." Your eyes dart around to Ahlf, the man with the beard. He catches you looking at him and instantly turns away from you. You are not staying with him. He seems frightening and strange and he called Mama //Salyra//. "Ahlf is your father," Mama explains. "He will keep you safe." "I do not want to stay with him," you protest, your tone vehement. Mama pulls you into her arms, a tight hold. She is warm and her touch is soothing. For as long as you've known, it has been Mama and you. You did not need a father or anyone else. You've only needed Mama. But now Mama wants you stay with this stranger, your father. "I am sorry, my Sweetling," says softly. "It is safer to stay here. Your father will keep you safe. He is a good man." You begin to protest, but Mama hushes you. She presses her mouth against your brow, a gentle kiss but it feels as if it is the last. Slowly, Mama stands and turns away from you. <<elseif $mothergo is 5>> "Alright, Mama," you agree. Mama stares at you, as if surprised by your agreement. Then, she smiles gently. Her arms encirlce you in her hold, your face buried in her warmth. She is the only person you've ever trusted. You know if Mama thinks you will be safe here then you can trust her word. "My gentle $name," Mama whispers. "You are more precious to me than the sun." You hold Mama tighter, wishing she would never leave. You are frightened and tired, but Mama always knows how to make you feel better. If she leaves, who will hug you when you're afraid? Mama seems to sense your unease, because she looks down at you with a radiant expression. "Will you be brave for me, my Sweetling?" Mama asks. You manage a small nod, you do not want to disappoint Mama. Mama smiles at you before she pulls you into a squeezing hug. Her hold is tight and familiar. You do not want her to let go. All too soon, her grip loosens and Mama stands up slowly. She smiles before she turns away from you. <</if>> [[Next.|prlg9]]

There is a deafening silence as Mama approaches the wooden door once more, only this time, it seems as if she is walking towards danger. Mama does not look your way as she reaches for the door. You do not know if it is better or worse than if she turned to look at you. "You cannot do this," Ahlf shouts, reaching for Mama. Mama shrugs away Ahlf's hand. There are no tears on her face anymore when she looks up at him. Her eyes are cold, her voice rough. "Keep $MChim safe," Mama breathes. "Promise me this, Ahlf." Ahlf stumbles under Mama's glare, whatever fury which blinded him earlier now gone as if afraid at the sight of Mama's determination. When Ahlf does not respond, Mama raises her voice. It is different, louder. Booming. The windows rattle and the roof quakes as Mama speaks. "You will keep $name safe," Mama growls. "Swear it upon the blood of your kin." Ahlf shudders, his expression twisted into one of blatant fear. You stare at Mama. Her eyes seem to glow. There is a coldness in the air around her. "I swear it," Ahlf breathes. Mama nods. She does not say more. Her eyes flit towards you, catching you in her sight. The glow in her eyes ebbs, slightly so that she looks like Mama again. But she does not say anything to you. Looking away from you, Mama pulls the door open and leaves the cottage. [[Next.|prlg9_1]]

<<set $showAhlfRel to true>><<set $location to "Salt Bay, Cyre">><<set $codeSBay to true>><<notify>>New Codex Entry<</notify>> <div class="timeline">Salt Bay, Cyre</div> The sea is calm. A slight breeze brushes against your clothes. The material feels rough against your skin. It is not like the clothes you used to wear at home, with Mama. Above you, a seagull calls out loudly. You wonder if Mama is out there somewhere, calling out loudly for you. It's been over two moons since you've last seen Mama. She hasn't come back and no matter how hard you look, you can never find any trace of her. Without Mama, you've had to learn how to live with Ahlf, this stranger with a beard who looks at you as if you're frightening. He is your father, a man you barely know and yet in the light of the morning after your mother's departure, you discovered many similarities with him. Your eyes, much like his are... [[...dark as the night sky.|prlg11][$eye to "black"]] [[...bright as the blue sea.|prlg11][$eye to "blue"]] [[...warm as a brown sparrow's feather.|prlg11][$eye to "brown"]] [[...deep as the green hills.|prlg11][$eye to "green"]] [[...intense as the hazel of autumn leaves.|prlg11][$eye to "hazel"]]

<div class="back"><<link "Return" $return>><</link>></div> <div class="menu">Relationships:</div> <<if $showAhlfRel is true>> <center>Ahlf:</center> <div class="glossarytext"><<if $ahlfRel gte 70>>Your relationship with your father is not nearly as difficult as he thought it would be. He has come to enjoy his time spent with you.<<elseif $ahlfRel lte 49>>Your relationship with your father is terse. Neither of you know how to deal with each other.<<else>>Your relationship with your father is difficult at times, but you have both managed to tolerate each other.<</if>></div> <<elseif $showAhlfRel is false>> <</if>> <<if $showIrusRel is true>> <center>Prince Irus Friendship:</center> <div class="glossarytext"><<if $irusRel gte 70>>You have developed a strong and close friendship with Prince Irus. He considers you one of his closest friends and trusts you with his life.<<elseif $irusRel lte 49>>Prince Irus has a difficult time with determining if he can trust your loyalty. Your relationship is strained.<<else>>You are companions with Prince Irus. He holds no strong feelings towards you.<</if>></div> <center>Prince Irus Romance: </center> <div class="glossarytext"><<if $irusRom is 0>>You have not flirted with Prince Irus.<<elseif $irusRom gte 40>>You have flirted often with Prince Irus.<<else>>You and Prince Irus have flirted a few times but you are uncertain if there is anything more than that.<</if>> <<if $irus_lock is true>>You are currently courting Prince Irus.<<elseif $irus_lock is false>><</if>></div> <<elseif $showIrusRel is false>> <</if>> <<if $showOrenRel is true>> <center>Sir Oren Friendship:</center> <div class="glossarytext"><<if $orenRel gte 70>>You and Sir Oren are close companions. He trusts you and will do all that he can to keep you safe.<<elseif $orenRel lte 49>>You and Sir Oren have a strained relationship. He does not know what to make of you.<<else>>You are Sir Oren are companions. He is yet to make up his mind about you.<</if>></div> <center>Sir Oren Romance:</center> <div class="glossarytext"><<if $orenRom gte 45>>You and Sir Oren have flirted with each other and he feels warm whenever you are around.<<elseif $orenRom is 0>>There has been nothing romantic between you and Sir Oren.<<else>>You have flirted a little with Sir Oren but you are uncertain what to make of it.<</if>></div> <<elseif $showOrenRel is false>> <</if>> <<if $showEloraRel is true>> <center>Queen Elora Friendship:</center> <div class="glossarytext"><<if $eloraRel gte 70>>You are close to Queen Elora and she considers you to be one of her few, true friends.<<elseif $eloraRel lte 49>>Your relationship with Queen Elora is tense and strained on most days. She does not know if she can truly trust you.<<else>>You are a companion to Queen Elora. She sees you as Prince Irus' companion.<</if>></div> <center>Queen Elora Romance:</center> <div class="glossarytext"><<if $eloraRom gte 40>>There are hints of a romance between you and Queen Elora.<<elseif $eloraRom is 0>>You have not flirted with Queen Elora.<<else>>You have flirted a few times with Queen Elora but there has been little more than that.<</if>> <<if $elora_lock is true>>You are currently courting Queen Elora<<elseif $elora_lock is false>><</if>></div> <<elseif $showEloraRel is false>><</if>> <<if $showAnuRel is true>> <center>Anu Friendship:</center> <div class="glossarytext"><<if $anuRel gte 65>>Anu considers you to be a good friend and would do anything in her power to keep you safe.<<elseif $anuRel lte 49>>Anu will punch you if given the chance.<<else>>Anu does not know what to make of you.<</if>></div> <center>Anu Romance:</center> <div class="glossarytext"><<if $anuRom gte 45>>You and Anu are exploring your romantic prospects.<<elseif $anuRom is 0>>There has been nothing romantic between you and Anu.<<else>>There have been moments of flirtation between you and Anu, but nothing more than that.<</if>></div>> <<elseif $anuRel is false>> <</if>> <<if $showSalyraRel is true>> <center>Salyra:</center> <div class="glossarytext"><<if $salyraRel lte 30>>Your relationship with your mother is strained and filled with tension.<<elseif $salyraRel gte 65>>You and $mama are slowly finding your way back to each other.<<else>>Your relationship with your mother could be better.<</if>></div> <<elseif $showSalyraRel is false>> <</if>> <<if $showRanaRel is true>> <center>Rana:</center> <div class="glossarytext"><<if $ranaRel gte 65>>You are bonding well with your half-sister. She admires you and trusts you.<<elseif $ranaRel lte 40>>Rana does not trust you and is afraid of you.<<else>>Rana is unsure what to make of you, but she is curious to learn more.<</if>></div> <<elseif $shorRanaRel is false>> <</if>>

Still, you look more like Mama than you do of Ahlf. You share Mama's complexion... [[...a deep brown, like the bronzed earth.|prlg11_1][$skin to "deep brown"]] [[...a honey brown, warm and rich.|prlg11_1][$skin to "honey brown"]] [[...an olive hue, glowing and tawny.|prlg11_1][$skin to "olive"]] [[...a warm ivory, bright and dewy.|prlg11_1][$skin to "warm ivory"]] [[...a pale porcelain, light and snowy.|prlg11_1][$skin to "pale porcelain"]]

<<audio "mainsong" loop play>> <div class="heading">Prologue</div><div class="borderstyle">p</div> <div class="timeline">Age of Aedes, Year 523, Spring</div> <center>[[Begin.]]</center> <center><<linkreplace "Trigger warnings." t8n>>Blood, abandonment, child neglect, religious discrimination.<</linkreplace>></center>

<div class="timeline">Age of Aedes, Year 523, Summer</div> <center>[[Next.|prlg10]]</center>

The boat rocks against the current and you sit up, peering over the edge. Beneath the sea, you notice the shimmer of silvery scales from the fish trapped in Ahlf's net. The net is tethered to the edge of his boat, a simple thing that he casts out every morning. At first, he did not know whether to bring you out with him to sea or not, but even he seemed to understand that leaving a child alone in a cottage was a poor decision. "Don't think of jumping in." You look up. Ahlf's voice is nothing like Mama's. His is a deep baritone, a stern sound that used to make you fear him. The relationship between you and your father could be described as complicated. Neither of you knew each other very well and without Mama, it was difficult to even speak to each other. [[Still, you tried to be as helpful as possible.|prlg12][$AhlfRel +=5, $passive +=5, $aggressive -=5]] [[He was your father, so you obeyed him dutifully.|prlg12][$AhlfRel +=5, $passive +=5, $aggressive -=5]] [[You wanted to get to know him better, as a father and not a stranger.|prlg12][$AhlfRel +=5, $passive +=5, $aggressive -=5]] [[He was a stranger and no amount of blood would change that.|prlg12][$AhlfRel -=5, $aggressive +=5, $passive -=5]] [[You disliked Ahlf greatly and disobeyed him constantly.|prlg12][$AhlfRel -=5, $aggressive +=5, $passive-=5]]

<div class="back"><<link "Return" $return>><</link>></div> <div class="menu">Codex:</div> <<if $codeAncientOne is true>> <div class="glossary">The Ancient Ones:</div> <div class="glossarytext">The Ancient Ones are a group of divine beings or deities worshipped by those in the region of Ishari. The Ancient Ones are said to have descended from the stars and immortal and powerful. Those who worship the Ancient Ones are often shunned and persecuted in the Kingdom of Cyre</div> <<else>><</if>> <<if $codeBloodGuard is true>> <div class="glossary">The Blood Guard:</div> <div class="glossarytext">An elite army created by King Erlan to seek out and destroy those who worship the Ancient Ones. The Blood Guard are ruthless and highly efficient in their duties. Their name is derived from the blood which stains their blades and armours.</div> <<else>><</if>> <<if $codeIshari is true>> <div class="glossary">Ishari:</div> <div class="glossarytext">Ishari is a sovereign territory, which was once part of the Kingdom of Cyre. After the Battle of the Bridge, Ishari broke away from Cyre and has remained as a state of sovereignty. The people of Ishari follow the ways of the Ancient Ones. Most of the population of Ishari practise divine sorcery.</div> <<else>><</if>> <<if $codeSBay is true>> <div class="glossary">Salt Bay:</div> <div class="glossarytext">Salt Bay is situated at the edge of a larger bay, surrounded by Gallandon Sea. It is the southern most hamlet of Cyre, sharing a deep, winding river with Ishari. The hamlet of Salt Bay itself looks humble. With its ash wood rooftops, stone walls and blue sea, Salt Bay's atmosphere can only be described as peaceful.</div> <<else>><</if>> <<if $codeVinia is true>> <div class="glossary">Vinia:</div> <div class="glossarytext">The Kingdom of Vinia is situated east of the Kingdom of Cyre. Vinia has remained a strong trade ally with Cyre, though still remains neutral in Cyre's condemnation of Ishari. Vinia boasts a multicultural nation which consists of diverse religious practices.</div> <<else>><</if>> <<if $codeAspal is true>> <div class="glossary">Aspal:</div> <div class="glossarytext">Aspal is the capital city of Vinia. The Great Palace of Vinia, home to the Vinian Royal Family sits in the centre of Aspal, overlooking the city in every direction. Aspal is also home to many temples dedicated to the different deities, including one of the oldest temples outside of Ishari, dedicated to the Ancient Ones.</div> <<else>><</if>> <<if $codeValeria is true>> <div class="glossary">Queen Valeria:</div> <div class="glossarytext">Queen Valeria is known as the //Warrior Queen// of Vinia. She ruled over the Kingdom of Vinia from years 467 to 509. Queen Valeria is most renowned for her role in defending Vinia from the nomad tribes that threatened the nation's borders. Her military prowess has led many to praise her for her decisive actions that protected the Kingdom of Vinia.</div> <<else>><</if>> <<if $codeNomad is true>> <div class="glossary">The Nomad Tribes:</div> <div class="glossarytext">The Nomad Tribes are a group of different tribes that roam the lands in search of a new home. There is no single leader of the tribes, though the tribes will often come together during times of war or when searching for new lands to call home. Each tribe is lead by a chief or chieftess, who will often communicate with other tribe leaders when making decisions regarding war or relocating.</div> <<else>><</if>> <<if $codeTirigan is true>> <div class="glossary">King Tirigan:</div> <div class="glossarytext">King Tirigan is the first ever recorded king in the Kingdom of Cyre. Most notable about King Tirigan is his Ishari heritage. King Tirigan ruled over Cyre through diplomacy and peace and his reign lasted from 2424 up until his death in 3000, Age of Osyn.</div> <<else>><</if>> <<if $codeRabiah is true>> <div class="glossary">Sovereign Rabiah:</div> <div class="glossarytext">Sovereign Rabiah is known for being the ruler who united the fractured Southern Islands, unifying them under a single leadership. Sovereign Rabiah did not focus solely on combat or diplomacy, but rather chose the best approach for each situation. Some say that Sovereign Rabiah united the Southern Islands through force, while other records note that she used peace to bring about the unification. Sovereign Rabiah reigned from years 382 to 478.</div> <<else>><</if>> <<if $codeSouthernIsland is true>> <div class="glossary">The Southern Islands:</div> <div class="glossarytext">The Southern Islands is a nation made up of smaller, individual islands that were unified under the rule of Sovereign Rabiah. The Southern Islands are known for their trade in ships and glass jewels, making it a wealthy nation. The Southern Islands lie south of the Kingdom of Vinia and worship of the Twelve is practised by the majority of the nation.</div> <<else>><</if>> <<if $codeJoran is true>> <div class="glossary">The City of Joran:</div> <div class="glossarytext">Joran is one of the major cities in the Kingdom of Vinia. Joran is a port city and one of the first points of access for trade with the neighbouring southern regions, including Ishari. Joran is currently led by Lord Redall Veranius, known for his sympathetic sentiments towards the Ishari people. Since Lord Redall Veranius took over, Joran has seen an increase in its military might.</div> <<else>><</if>> <<if $codeNylah is true>> <div class="glossary">The City of Nylah:</div> <div class="glossarytext">Nylah is a landlocked city in the Kingdom of Vinia. Situated in the colder region of the kingdom, Nylah is known for its strong governance and prevalence for upholding the rule of law. Led by Honourable Emnilda, Nylah is now the the judicial capital of Vinia.</div> <<else>><</if>> <<if $codeHadi is true>> <div class="glossary">The City of Hadi:</div> <div class="glossarytext">The city of Hadi is one of the oldest cities in the Kingdom of Vinia, known for its large trading outpost. Many merchants run stalls throughout Hadi, trading with the regions beyond the seas. It is no surprise then that its leader, Administrator Kazan, once started out as a merchant in the city. Hadi is renowned for being one of the wealthiest cities in Vinia and many go there to seek their fortune.</div> <<else>><</if>>

Ahlf is watching you. He sits on the other side of the boat, his brown hair rustling in the breeze. Unlike Mama, Ahlf is tall and broad. He does not talk much and when he does, it is always in the same, gruff tone. You sometimes wonder how Mama would have ever wanted to be with someone like Ahlf. "Are you listening to me, $name?" Ahlf asks. You blink, startled by his voice. <<set $Ahlfp12 to 0>> [["Y-Yes," you stammer, shy.|prlg12_1][$Ahlfp12 +=1]] [[You nod in agreement, your nerves rendering you mute.|prlg12_1][$Ahlfp12 +=2]] [["Yes, I'm listening," you answer confidently.|prlg12_1][$Ahlfp12 +=3]] [[You shrug, not bothering to reply.|prlg12_1][$Ahlfp12 +=4]] [["What's is to you?" you snarl.|prlg12_1][$Ahlfp12 +=5]]

<<if $Ahlfp12 is 1>> "Y-Yes," you stammer, shy. Ahlf's eyes peer into your face. A strange expression flashes through his face, one you're unused to. Ahlf looks out to sea, his fingers working through his hair. You wring your fingers together, your nerves causing your heartbeat to speed up. Ahlf's attention returns to you. "I... that's good," Ahlf says. His voice is softer now, as if coaxing out a scared animal from hiding. "The sea might look calm, but it will swallow you in if you're not careful." You manage a nod and Ahlf seems pleased. You think he's pleased. He isn't frowning and his eyebrows are not furrowed, so he must be happy. Ahlf gestures to the net. "Help me hoist the net. We must leave soon if we want to get home before dusk." <<elseif $Ahlfp12 is 2>> You nod in agreement, your nerves rendering you mute. Ahlf gazes at you, a frown tugging at his mouth. Your breathing quickens and you wonder if he is mad at you. Were you too busy daydreaming? Ahlf lets out a breath and you watch his features, waiting for his response. A moment passes and you begin to think that Ahlf will remain quiet, but then, he speaks so low that you have to strain to hear him over the breeze. "You do not have to fear me, $name," he breathes. "Still, it is good that you listen." You stare at Ahlf, his words a surprise to you. Has he always thought you feared him? Ahlf nods towards the net. "Help me hoist the net," he says. "We must leave soon if we want to get home before dusk." <<elseif $Ahlfp12 is 3>> "Yes, I'm listening," you answer confidently. Ahlf nods at you, satisfied by your response. Despite his gruff demeanour, Ahlf seems to appreciate directness above all. Perhaps it is the reason why Mama and he did not seem to like each other. Mama always preferred a softer approach. "That's good, $name," Ahlf says. "It's good of you to listen. The sea isn't a creature you want to battle, not on any day." You ponder on Ahlf's words, wondering if he ever had to battle the sea before. Mama always used to warn you about straying too far into the waters at home, but the sea at home was darker and stronger. Here, the sea seems nearly peaceful. "Help me hoist the net," Ahlf says. "We must leave soon if we want to get home before dusk." <<elseif $Ahlfp12 is 4>> You shrug, not bothering to reply. You learnt early on that speaking to Ahlf is a difficult affair. His words are always clipped and his voice hard. Even when you do speak, Ahlf seems not knowing how to respond to you. You imagine that he must not be accustomed to small children, but even so, he could barely carry on a conversation with you. Ahlf lets out a deep sigh, turning his face away from you. Sometimes you wonder what would have happened if he refused to keep you. Would Mama have taken you with her? "You need to use your voice, $name if you want to make anyone listen," Ahlf breathes. "I will not force you to speak, but think on my words." He goes quiet after that and reaches over to haul the net onto the boat. It is filled with slithering fish. "Time to head back," Ahlf sighs. "It's almost dusk." <<elseif $Ahlfp12 is 5>> "What's is to you?" you snarl. The anger in your tone causes Ahlf's eyes to widen. He seems not to have been expecting your caustic response, because for a long time, he just sits there in silence. The shock eventually wears off and Ahlf's mouth twists into an unflattering scowl. He doesn't answer your question, instead, he peers into the sea. You narrow your eyes at Ahlf. He is always talking at you, expecting you to simply listen and not speak. Mama always was gentle with you. She always asked you about what you thought and how you felt. "I only wanted to make sure you don't fall in," Ahlf grunts. "The sea is a dangerous beast." You huff. You do not need Ahlf to teach you about the dangers of the sea. You do not need him to do anything but leave you alone. Your bad mood must show, because Ahlf seems to grant your silent plea. He turns his attention to the net and hauls it into the boat. "Time to go back," Ahlf states. <</if>> [[Next.|prlg12_2]]

<div class="timeline">Age of Aedes, Year 531, Autumn</div> <center>[[Next.|prlg13_1]]</center>

<<set $year to "Aedes, 531">><div class="timeline">Salt Bay, Cyre</div> Autumn is particularly difficult this year. The storms are longer and the nets return emptier each day. It's been eight years since Mama left you with Ahlf. A lot has changed since then. Most notably, your hair. You... [[...shaved it all off.|prlg13_2][$hairlong to "bald"]] [[...let it grow past your ears.|prlg13_2][$hairlong to "short"]] [[...let it grow to your shoulders.|prlg13_2][$hairlong to "shoulder"]] [[...let it grow past your shoulders.|prlg13_2][$hairlong to "medium"]] [[...let it grow to your waist.|prlg13_2][$hairlong to "long"]]

Unlike Ahlf's hair, which is now peppered with strands of grey, you were born with hair that is naturally... <<if $hairlong is "bald">> [[...ebony, like Mama's hair.|prlg13_3][$hair to "no"]] [[...chestnut brown, much like Ahlf's used to be.|prlg13_3][$hair to "no"]] [[...golden, like the sunlight on wheat.|prlg13_3][$hair to "no"]] [[...auburn, a deep shade as vibrant as blood.|prlg13_3][$hair to "no"]] <<else>> [[...ebony, like Mama's hair.|prlg13_3][$hair to "ebony"]] [[...chestnut brown, much like Ahlf's used to be.|prlg13_3][$hair to "chestnut brown"]] [[...golden, like the sunlight on wheat.|prlg13_3][$hair to "golden"]] [[...auburn, a deep shade as vibrant as blood.|prlg13_3][$hair to "auburn"]] <</if>>

You've settled into your life here in Salt Bay, as much as you could. Ishari is harder to remember, the older you become and the thought of seeing Mama again has fast become a dwindling hope. Still, you are thirteen this year and unlike the other children in the hamlet, you are stuck inside the cottage. Ahlf makes you gut the fish, whether you want to or not, while he sails out to sea alone. Over the years, your relationship with Ahlf has grown... [[...stronger. You have fallen into an easy understanding with each other.|prlg13_4][$AhlfRel +=10]] [[...worse. You argue and bicker all the time.|prlg13_4][$AhlfRel -=10]] [[...complicated. Your relationship is not bad, but it could be better.|prlg13_4][$AhlfRel +=5]] [[...tense. You barely speak to each other.|prlg13_4][$AhlfRel -=5]]

<<set $codeSBay to true>> The journey back to Ahlf's cottage, your new //home// is uneventful. After Mama had left, you soon discovered that Ahlf lived in a small hamlet called Salt Bay. Salt Bay is nothing like Ishari. The hills are greener here and taller too. And all the houses are built with stone, like Ahlf's cottage. Ahlf hefts the net of fish onto his shoulder as he leads you through a small path towards the cottage. He is a fisherman and sells his catch in the local markets of Salt Bay. You still do not know how Ahlf met Mama or why you never met him until that night Mama left you. "Come," he calls to you. "We must ready the fish for tomorrow's market." [[Next.|prlg12_3]]

The cottage has two main rooms, one for eating and working and the other is where your beds are kept. At first, the stench of fish guts used to make you feel ill, but after a while, you became accustomed to the smell. You're certain that you still smell like fish, even after you bathe in the stream behind the cottage. Ahlf sets the fish down atop the table. The silvery bodies have long since stopped flopping about. Instead, the fish peer up at you with glassy gazes. <<set $squeamish to false>> [[Their stares make you feel guilty about their deaths.|prlg12_4][$squeamish to true]] [[The sight of their death makes you uncomfortable.|prlg12_4][$squeamish to true]] [[You do not mind the glassy stares of the fish.|prlg12_4]] [[Fish are food and you do not care how they look when dead.|prlg12_4]]

"Bring the knives, $name," Ahlf commands. Ahlf keeps knives for gutting and scaling the fish, stored in a wooden chest against the far wall. When you first discovered the chest, you had hoped for more clues as to Ahlf was. All you found were a few books and a pendant that resembled the one Mama wore around her neck. <<set $Aknife to 0>> [[You dutifully bring the knives as Ahlf asked.|prlg12_5][$Aknife +=1, $AhlfRel +=5]] [[You reluctantly bring the knives as Ahlf asked.|prlg12_5][$Aknife +=2, $AhlfRel +=3]] [[You ignore Ahlf's request, not wanting to obey him.|prlg12_5][$Aknife +=3, $AhlfRel -=5]]

<<if $Aknife is 1 and $squeamish is true>> You dutifully bring the knives as Ahlf asked. Despite not enjoying the sight of gutted fish, you know that this task must be done as part of Ahlf's work. You open the wooden chest and bring out the collection of knives that Ahlf uses for gutting the fish. Ahlf accepts the knives without sparing you much of a glance. He will be busy for the rest of the evening, which means that you have some time for yourself. <<elseif $Aknife is 1 and $squeamish is false>> You dutifully bring the knives as Ahlf asked. You do not mind the sight of the dead fish, let alone the sight of them being gutted so you do not mind bringing the knives to Ahlf. You open the wooden chest and bring out the collection of knives that Ahlf uses for gutting the fish. Ahlf accepts the knives without sparing you much of a glance. He will be busy for the rest of the evening, which means that you have some time for yourself. <<elseif $Aknife is 2 and $squeamish is true>> You reluctantly bring the knives as Ahlf asked. The sight of dead fish always makes you feel ill. Still, you force yourself towards the wooden chest and bring out the collection of knives that Ahlf uses to gut and clean the fish. Ahlf accepts the knives from you without sparing you much of a glance. He will be busy for the rest of the evening, which means that you have some time for yourself. <<elseif $Aknife is 2 and $squeamish is false>> You do not mind the sight of the dead fish, but you are still reluctant to bring Ahlf his knives. With dragging feet, you approach the wooden chest and bring out Ahlf's collection of knives which he uses to gut and clean fish. Ahlf accepts the knives from you without sparing you much of a glance. He will be busy for the rest of the evening, which means that you have some time for yourself. <<elseif $Aknife is 3 and $squeamish is true>> You ignore Ahlf's request, not wanting to obey him. The sight of the dead fish is not a pleasant one and the idea of having to watch them being gutted makes you feel ill. You refuse to budge, not wanting to bring Ahlf his collection of knives for gutting and cleaning the fish. When Ahlf realises that you are not moving, he grunts irritably and moves around you to get the knives himself. He will most likely be busy with the fish for the rest of the evening, so you have some time for yourself. <<elseif $Aknife is 3 and $squeamish is false>> You ignore Ahlf's request, not wanting to obey him. You do not have a problem with the sight of the dead fish, but you refuse to obey Ahlf. You stand stiffly, watching your father as he waits for you to follow his command. When it becomes clear that you will not, Ahlf grunts in irritation and moves around you to collect his knives from the wooden chest. He will most likely be busy with the fish for the rest of the evening, so you have some time for yourself. <</if>> [[Next.|prlg12_6]]

You quickly leave the cottage and Ahlf behind as you step outside. The air is warm at this time of the year and the summer has meant longer days to spend out at sea. It is rare for Ahlf to let you wander alone, but he has been busier with the daily hauls and you find that your father is reluctant to spend time with you that does not involve fishing at sea. <<if $Aknife is 1 and $squeamish is true>> In the cottage, you chose to help Ahlf, despite being squeamish. You did so because... [[...it was the right thing to do.|prlg12_7]] [[...you wanted to help Ahlf, because he is your father.|prlg12_7]] [[...the fish brings in coins to survive.|prlg12_7]] [[...you just felt like helping him in the moment.|prlg12_7]] [[...you wish you could change your mind about helping him.|prlg12_7]] <<elseif $Aknife is 1 and $squeamish is false>> In the cottage, you chose to help Ahlf. You aren't squeamish, but is there another reason for helping Ahlf? You did so because... [[...it was the right thing to do.|prlg12_7]] [[...you wanted to help Ahlf, because he is your father.|prlg12_7]] [[...the fish brings in coins to survive.|prlg12_7]] [[...you just felt like helping him in the moment.|prlg12_7]] [[...you wish you could change your mind about helping him.|prlg12_7]] <<elseif $Aknife is 2 and $squeamish is true>> In the cottage, you chose to help Ahlf, despite being squeamish. You did so because... [[...it was the right thing to do.|prlg12_7]] [[...you wanted to help Ahlf, because he is your father.|prlg12_7]] [[...the fish brings in coins to survive.|prlg12_7]] [[...you just felt like helping him in the moment.|prlg12_7]] [[...you wish you could change your mind about helping him.|prlg12_7]] <<elseif $Aknife is 2 and $squeamish is false>> In the cottage, you chose to help Ahlf. You aren't squeamish, but is there another reason for helping Ahlf? You did so because... [[...it was the right thing to do.|prlg12_7]] [[...you wanted to help Ahlf, because he is your father.|prlg12_7]] [[...the fish brings in coins to survive.|prlg12_7]] [[...you just felt like helping him in the moment.|prlg12_7]] [[...you wish you could go back and change your mind about helping him.|prlg12_7]] <<elseif $Aknife is 3 and $squeamish is true>> In the cottage, you refused to bring Ahlf the knives. You are squeamish at the sight of dead fish, but is that the only reason you refused? You refused because... [[...you did not want to help Ahlf.|prlg12_7]] [[...Ahlf treats you like a servant. You will never obey him.|prlg12_7]] [[...you wanted to annoy Ahlf by refusing him.|prlg12_7]] [[...you do not really know why you refused Ahlf.|prlg12_7]] [[...you wish you could go back and change your mind about refusing to help him.|prlg12_7]] <<elseif $Aknife is 3 and $squeamish is false>> In the cottage, you refused to bring Ahlf the knives. You are not squeamish at the sight of dead fish so it is not why you refused to help. You refused because... [[...you did not want to help Ahlf.|prlg12_7]] [[...Ahlf treats you like a servant. You will never obey him.|prlg12_7]] [[...you wanted to annoy Ahlf by refusing him.|prlg12_7]] [[...you do not really know why you refused Ahlf.|prlg12_7]] [[...you wish you could go back and change your mind about refusing to help him.|prlg12_7]] <</if>>

The hamlet of Salt Bay is not particularly large. Ahlf's cottage sits atop a high hill, so that you can see the rest of the homes below. Most of the other residents of Salt Bay have built their homes along the shore. In the centre of the hamlet, sits a small marketplace where Ahlf sells his fish. You've only been to the marketplace a few times, when Ahlf took you with him to sell his catch. The other residents stared at Ahlf and whispered when you passed them. You knew that they were talking about you. <<set $whispreact to 0>> [[Their whispers made you feel uneasy.|prlg12_8][$whispreact +=1]] [[Their whispers made you feel upset.|prlg12_8][$whispreact +=2]] [[Their whispers made you feel furious.|prlg12_8][$whispreact +=3]] [[You were indifferent to their whispers.|prlg12_8][$whispreact +=4]]

<<set $codeAncientOne to true>> Ahlf made you promise that you would never go to the marketplace alone. You did not protest against his order. After all, it was evident that neither you nor Ahlf were welcome in the hamlet. You were a stranger with features of the Ishari people, and it seemed that Ahlf had garnered the ire of Salt Bay when he allowed you into his cottage. Still, you stare down at the rest of the homes along the shore. There are other children in the hamlet, but none of them have ever spoken to you. They must be afraid of you. Most of Cyre fear the Ishari people. Mama once told you that the people of Cyre had forgotten all about the Ancient Ones and hated that the Ishari people hadn't. Mama tried to teach you about the Ancient Ones, but you can barely remember her teachings now. All you do know is that any mention of the Ancient Ones in Cyre could have you killed. [[Next.|.12_9]]

The sun is setting and you gaze as the fiery orb is swallowed by the sea. You often think about Mama in moments like this. You cannot help but... [[...miss Mama, deeply wishing she will return.|prlg12_10]] [[...wish Mama would return to take you away from Salt Bay.|prlg12_10]] [[...hate Mama for abandoning you here.|prlg12_10]] [[...want to run away to find Mama.|prlg12_10]] [[...feel numb about it all.|prlg12_10]] [[...feel hopeless about Mama being gone.|prlg12_10]] [[...grieve for Mama, knowing she will not return.|prlg12_10]]

As dusk begins to set, the sky darkening with the faint appearances of the stars, Ahlf steps out of the cottage. He is tall against the doorway, taller now that Mama isn't here to hold you in her arms. His gaze finds you, and he sighs. "Come inside," he calls. "It is late." The wind picks up and you shiver. Slowly, you trudge back inside the cottage. You cannot help but wonder if you will ever see Ishari and Mama again. [[Next.|prlg_12a]]

Regardless of your relationship with Ahlf, you have had little interaction with the other children in the hamlet. It seems that despite living in Salt Bay for eight years already, the people of the hamlet are loathe to forget your Ishari heritage. You are uncertain what makes your Ishari heritage evident. You do not look any different from any other citizen of Cyre, and over the years, your Ishari accent has softened so that you speak the Iltash dialect as fluently as a Cyre-born citizen. Still, the residents in Salt Bay seem adamant on treating you like an outsider. If it isn't the stares and whispers, it is the outright insults about Ishari culture. [[You hate that you're treated differently.|prlg13_5]] [[You understand why you are treated differently, but you do not like it.|prlg13_5]] [[You understand why you are treated differently, and you do not care.|prlg13_5]] [[You wish that you were not different, so that you can fit in.|prlg13_5]] [[You do not care about how you're treated.|prlg13_5]]

The air is chillier than normal and the sky is overcast. Autumn has not been kind to the fishermen of late. Ahlf loads a few crates of fish, smaller than normal, onto the table. The markets of Salt Bay have grown over the years, so that it's not only locals who come to sell their wares. Sometimes, merchants travelling from neighbouring cities or even kingdoms will stop to sell what's left of their goods before returning home. Today, you are helping Ahlf sell fish in the market. It is still early, barely past dawn and you are struggling not to shiver against the cold, autumn air. The crates stink of salt and the sea, a smell you've become familiar with from all the fish guts you see in the cottage. Ahlf seems not to mind the smell, though you suppose even he did mind, he would not show it. Your father is not an expressive man and you do not think you've ever heard him laugh. [[You wish you could be closer to Ahlf, as father and child.|prlg13_6]] [[You do not mind your relationship as it is.|prlg13_6]] [[You hate Ahlf, and wish you could escape from the cottage.|prlg13_6]]

Slowly, the marketplace begins to fill with throngs of merchants and patrons. The marketplace spans along the coastal shores, with most of the fishermen situated closer to the shore than the rest of the market stalls. A few customers stop to look over the fish that Ahlf set up on the table, but very few buy from your stall. You are not immune to the stares that some of the buyers shoot you when they approach the stall. As a small hamlet, most of the residents have heard about how you arrived in Salt Bay either through gossip or from asking Ahlf directly. It didn't matter that Ahlf is your father or that you were part Cyrene yourself. They only saw you as an outsider and someone who worshipped the Ancient Ones. The stares gradually become worse as the morning progresses and by mid-morning, Ahlf has only managed to sell a few measely fish. He sighs and his $eye eyes shift onto you. Even now, you are reminded of how similar they are to your own. It is a stark reminder that despite everything, this man is your father. "Take a break," Ahlf says. "Go see the rest of the market." You stare at him with wide eyes. Ahlf hardly ever leaves you on your own in the hamlet, let alone the marketplace. Not wanting to test your luck, you wipe your hands clean of fish scales, though the smell of fish still lingers and slip away from your father's stall. [[Next.|prlg13_7]]

As you walk away from the stall, you become aware that perhaps Ahlf was trying to get rid of you. It is not hard to notice that your mere presence was a deterrent in making any sales. Ahlf didn't say anything to people who stared at you or whispered. It made you feel... [[...hurt. You wish he would defend you.|prlg13_8]] [[...furious. He is your father and should defend you from others.|prlg13_8]] [[...disheartened. You understood why he didn't defend you, but it still hurt.|prlg13_8]] [[...numb. You feel nothing about your father's lack of response.|prlg13_8]] [[...irritated. It annoys you that he does not defend you, but you understand why he doesn't.|prlg13_8]]

The farther away from your father you walk, the more stalls you see. Scents of honey and spices waft around you. There are stalls selling freshly baked buns and stalls that boast roasted meats, stewed in gravy. Cyre was rich in diverse foods, despite its hostile attitude towards other nations and often boasted spiced lamb and rice dishes, a common Isharian meal. As you weave through the narrow pathways, you notice a stall not quite the others. A lithe man with dark skin sits behind a wagon. You notice that the wagon is given a wide berth, with most people actively avoiding the wagon altogether. Your eyes scan the the man's wagon and find your eyes widening. Rich silks, scarlets and turquoise are folded neatly at the base of the wagon. But it is not the material that grips your attention. No, it is the small, clay figurines which sit atop the silks. Your feet move towards the stall, and without thinking, you reach out for one of the clay figurines. [[Next.|prlg13_9]]

The figurine is tall, with a human enough appearance that it is not so hard to comprehend. There are two arms and a feminine face, surrounded by an array of swirling patterns that remind you of Mama. It fits neatly into your palm, small and detailed. "You are Ishari." You look up, dropping the figurine as you turn towards the voice. The man who sits behind the wagon watches you with a grin. He is nothing like the other merchants. He wears brightly coloured robes, intricately woven with golden thread. <<set $isharimerch to 0>> [["H-How did you know?" you ask.|prlg13_10][$isharimerch +=1, $passive +=5]] [["I am," you respond.|prlg13_10][$isharimerch +=2, $passive +=5]] [["What if I am?" you scoff.|prlg13_10][$isharimerch +=3, $aggressive +=5]] [["You're mistaken, I am Cyrene," you lie.|prlg13_10][$isharimerch +=4, $aggressive +=5]]

<<if $isharimerch is 1>> "H-How did you know?" you ask. The man smiles at you, his front teeth crooked. Leaning forwards, he picks up the clay figurine you dropped. "This is Ehulla, Goddess of the Earth," he replies instead. "You'll want her if you're looking for luck with fertility and a bountiful harvest." You stare at the figurine, this goddess. She stares at you with large, slanted eyes. Interwined into the carving of her hair, you notice leaves and rays in the shape of the sun. This is an Isharian deity, a figurine that should never have been allowed into Cyre. You look back at the man and find that his gaze is already on you. "It's your eyes," he remarks. You frown. "What?" "Your eyes," he repeats, tapping his own. "That's how I knew you were Ishari." Your eyes? But your eyes are exactly like your father's and there is nothing Ishari about Ahlf. "You have a glow about them, like the Ancient Ones," he explains. <<elseif $isharimerch is 2>> "I am," you respond. The man smiles at you, as if pleased by your response. You notice that his front teeth are crooked. Leaning forwards, the man picks up the figurine that you dropped. "This is Ehulla, Goddess of the Earth," he explains. "You'll want her if you're looking for luck with fertility and a bountiful harvest." You stare at the figurine, this goddess. She stares back at you with large, slanted eyes. Interwined into the carving of her hair, you notice leaves and rays in the shape of the sun. This is an Isharian deity, a figurine that should never have been allowed into Cyre. You look back at the man and find that his gaze is already on you. "It's rare to find another Isharian in Cyre," the man says. "Especially one so young. Tell me, have your eyes always shone like the Ancient Ones?" <<elseif $isharimerch is 3>> "What if I am?" you scoff. The man's eyes crinkle in the corners as he smiles at you. His front teeth are crooked as he leans forward, picking up the figurine that you dropped. "There is no need to be so hostile, young one," the man laughs. "We are all friends here." He nods towards the figurine in his hand. You stare at the figurine, this goddess. She stares back at you with large, slanted eyes. Interwined into the carving of her hair, you notice leaves and rays in the shape of the sun. This is an Isharian deity, a figurine that should never have been allowed into Cyre. You look back at the man and find that his gaze is already on you. "This is Ehulla, Goddess of the Earth," he explains. "You'll want her if you're looking for luck with fertility and a bountiful harvest." He pauses before looking at you again. "Cyre is not kind to us, but do not let that dim the glow in your eyes. The Ancient Ones have blessed you." <<elseif $isharimerch is 4>> "You're mistaken, I am Cyrene," you lie. The man nods at you, his eyes falling to the figurine that you dropped. Your heart thuds in your chest. Does he know that you're lying? After all, everyone in Salt Bay seems to know about your heritage. Perhaps this man has heard of it too? Instead of answering you, the man picks up the figurine. "This is Ehulla, Goddess of the Earth," he explains. "You'll want her if you're looking for luck with fertility and a bountiful harvest." You stare at the figurine, this goddess. She stares back at you with large, slanted eyes. Interwined into the carving of her hair, you notice leaves and rays in the shape of the sun. This is an Isharian deity, a figurine that should never have been allowed into Cyre. You look back at the man and find that his gaze is already on you. "There is no need to hide your heritage," the man says. "Ishari is nothing to be ashamed of." "That's-" you start, but he interrupts you. "The glow in your eyes will cease to exist if you forget the Ancient Ones completely," he explains. <</if>> [[Next.|prlg14]]

<<set $codeAncientOne to true>><<notify>>New Codex Entry<</notify>> //The Ancient Ones.// Mama would talk about them when you were younger. You have vague memories of praying at a temple, but anything more than that becomes a blur. You stare at this strange man from Ishari and wonder what he means about your eyes? Is that why everyone knew you were from Ishari? The man notices your confusion and smiles at you. "It is never too late to worship the Ancient Ones," he says. "What say you? Do you want to learn more?" <<set $ishariIdol to false>> [["Yes, I want to learn more."|prlg14_1][$ishariIdol to true]] [["No, I do not want to learn more."|prlg14_1]]

<<if $ishariIdol is true>> "Yes, I want to learn more." The man nods, before he draws up three other figurines. Each are different from Ehulla, distinguishing them as different gods. You examine each figurine. One is depicted as a tall man with a long beard. Wings sprout out from his back and he holds a coiled serpent in his hands. Another is depicted as round, bulbous form. There are two arms and legs and the expression resembles something twisted. There are dogs drawn into the being's long staff, which it wields firmly in one hand. The third and last of the figurines is the most human-looking. He is depicted with a tall body and a halo which stems from the base of his neck. Along his collar, you notice engravings of stars and swirls. <<set $imteus to false>> <<set $gabus to false>> <<set $atses to false>> [[Ask about the figurine with wings and holding a serpent.|prlg14_1_2][$imteus to true]] [[Ask about the bulbous figurine with a staff.|prlg14_1_2][$gabus to true]] [[Ask about the figurine with the halo and engraved stars.|prlg14_1_2][$atses to true]] <<elseif $ishariIdol is false>> "No, I do not want to learn more." The man sighs, but he does not protest at your choice. "That is fine," he says. "Not all are fond of the Ancient Ones. I will not force you to learn. You nod, not wishing to learn about the Ancient Ones or the figurines in the man's wagon. You bid the man goodbye before you depart from his wagon. [[Next.|prlg14_1_1]] <</if>>

<<if $imteus is true>> "Imteus is the God of Water and Life," the man explains. "He is responsible for creating life on earth and the advancement of our society." You stare at the figurine and nod. "Imteus is said to have given our people knowledge of the other gods, which is how Ishari was created. He acts as a guide to those who seek peace and wisdom. You decide to... [[...ask about the bulbous figurine with a staff.|prlg14_gabus][$gabus to true]] [[...ask about the figurine with the halo and engraved stars.|prlg14_atses][$atses to true]] [[...stop questioning him about the Ancient Ones.|prlg14_1_2_2]] <<elseif $gabus is true>> "Gabus is the Goddess of the Underworld and Death," he explains. "Without Gabus, there cannot be life or rebirth. She destroys all that must end, so that new beginnings may grow from the old." You examine the figurine and nod in understanding. "Gabus is said to be responsible for the afterlife, when we depart this realm, we enter Gabus' realm where she presides over us until our next life," the man explains. "Gabus is sought out by warriors and those who wield weapons." You decide to... [[...ask about the figurine with wings and holding a serpent.|prlg14_imteus][$imteus to true]] [[...ask about the figurine with the halo and engraved stars.|prlg14_atses][$atses to true]] [[...stop questioning him about the Ancient Ones.|prlg14_1_2_2]] <<elseif $atses is true>> "Atses is the God of the Skies and Stars. He is the ruler of the Ancient Ones and one of the first to descend from the skies. Atses is powerful and wields the power to govern all of the cosmos." You gaze at the figurine and nod your head in thought. "Those who worship Atses are said to be blessed with leadership and the ability to command others. Many rulers prayed to Atses for guidance," the man explains. You decide to... [[...ask about the figurine with wings and holding a serpent.|prlg14_imteus][$imteus to true]] [[...ask about the bulbous figurine with a staff.|prlg14_gabus][$gabus to true]] [[...stop questioning him about the Ancient Ones.|prlg14_1_2_2]] <</if>>

You chose not to learn about the Ancient Ones from the man in the market. You did so because... [[...you do not believe in the Ancient Ones, or any other god for that matter.|prlg14a][$spiritual_ancient -=50, $spiritual_solus -=50]] [[...you did not want to draw attention to yourself, though you do believe in the Ancient Ones.|prlg14a][$spiritual_ancient +=15]] [[...you did not want to draw attention to yourself, though you worship the Ancient Ones to be closer to Mama.|prlg14a][$spiritual_ancient +=15]] [[...you did not want to draw attention to yourself, though you do believe in the Ancient Ones and the Cyrene deity of Solus.|prlg14a][$spiritual_ancient +=15, $spiritual_solus +=15]] [[...you did not want to draw attention to yourself, though you do not believe in the Ancient Ones. You follow the Cyrene deity of Solus.|prlg14a][$spiritual_ancient -=50, $spiritual_solus +=15]] [[...you do not believe in the Ancient Ones. Instead, you follow the Cyrene deity of Solus.|prlg14a][$spiritual_ancient -=50, $spiritual_solus +=15]] [[...you do not know how to feel about the Ancient Ones or any other god for that matter.|prlg14a]]

<div class="timeline">Age of Aedes, Year 535, Winter</div> <center>[[Next.|prlg15]]</center>

The man looks up at you and smiles. The three idols stare up at you and you regard them with a newfound knowledge. Now that you know more about the Ancient Ones, how do you feel about them? [[You feel connected to the Ancient Ones and believe in their existence.|prlg14_1_2_2_1][$spiritual_ancient +=15]] [[You feel connected to the Ancient Ones and worship them as Mama did.|prlg14_1_2_2_1][$spiritual_ancient +=15]] [[You feel connected to the Ancient Ones and believe in their existence, however, you also believe in the Cyrene deity of Solus.|prlg14_1_2_2_1][$spiritual_ancient +=15, $spiritual_solus +=15]] [[You do not believe in the Ancient Ones, nor do you believe in any other god.|prlg14_1_2_2_1][$spiritual_ancient -=50, $spiritual_solus -=50]] [[You do not believe in the Ancient Ones, though you do believe in the Cyrene deity of Solus.|prlg14_1_2_2_1][$spiritual_ancient -=50, $spiritual_solus +=15]] [[You do not know how to feel about the Ancient Ones or any other god for that matter.|prlg14_1_2_2_1]]

"Gabus is the Goddess of the Underworld and Death," he explains. "Without Gabus, there cannot be life or rebirth. She destroys all that must end, so that new beginnings may grow from the old." You examine the figurine and nod in understanding. "Gabus is said to be responsible for the afterlife, when we depart this realm, we enter Gabus' realm where she presides over us until our next life," the man explains. "Gabus is sought out by warriors and those who wield weapons." You decide to... <<if $gabus is true and $imteus is true>> [[...ask about the figurine with the halo and engraved stars.|prlg14_atses_2][$atses to true]] [[...stop questioning him about the Ancient Ones.|prlg14_1_2_2]] <<elseif $gabus is true and $atses is true>> [[...ask about the figurine with wings and holding a serpent.|prlg14_imteus_2][$imteus to true]] [[...stop questioning him about the Ancient Ones.|prlg14_1_2_2]] <</if>>

"Atses is the God of the Skies and Stars. He is the ruler of the Ancient Ones and one of the first to descend from the skies. Atses is powerful and wields the power to govern all of the cosmos." You gaze at the figurine and nod your head in thought. "Those who worship Atses are said to be blessed with leadership and the ability to command others. Many rulers prayed to Atses for guidance," the man explains. You decide to... <<if $atses is true and $imteus is true>> [[...ask about the bulbous figurine with a staff.|prlg14_gabus_2][$gabus to true]] [[...stop questioning him about the Ancient Ones.|prlg14_1_2_2]] <<elseif $atses is true and $gabus is true>> [[...ask about the figurine with wings and holding a serpent.|prlg14_imteus_2][$imteus to true]] [[...stop questioning him about the Ancient Ones.|prlg14_1_2_2]] <</if>>

"Imteus is the God of Water and Life," the man explains. "He is responsible for creating life on earth and the advancement of our society." You stare at the figurine and nod. "Imteus is said to have given our people knowledge of the other gods, which is how Ishari was created. He acts as a guide to those who seek peace and wisdom. You decide to... <<if $imteus is true and $gabus is true>> [[...ask about the figurine with the halo and engraved stars.|prlg14_atses_2][$atses to true]] [[...stop questioning him about the Ancient Ones.|prlg14_1_2_2]] <<elseif $imteus is true and $atses is true>> [[...ask about the bulbous figurine with a staff.|prlg14_gabus_2][$gabus to true]] [[...stop questioning him about the Ancient Ones.|prlg14_1_2_2]] <</if>>

<<set $imteusidol to false>><<set $gabusidol to false>><<set $atsesidol to false>><<set $noIdol to 0>> "You can have one of the idols," the man says. "The idols are said to protect and guide those who carry them." You eyes the idols. Worship of the Ancient Ones is forbidden in Cyre, even being caught with one of these figurines could have you killed. Not even Ishari could escape the Blood Guard. You choose to... [[...take an idol, the figure of Imteus.|prlg1412][$imteusidol to true]] [[...take an idol, the figure of Gabus.|prlg1412][$gabusidol to true]] [[...take an idol, the figure of Atses.|prlg1412][$atsesidol to true]] [[...refuse to take an idol, it is too dangerous.|prlg1412][$noIdol +=1]] [[...refuse to take an idol. You do not worship the Ancient Ones.|prlg1412][$noIdol +=2]]

<<if $imteusidol is true>> You pick up the idol of Imteus and peer at his expression. There is no doubt that the Ishari believed that the figurines of the deities would guide and protect those who carried them. Perhaps Imteus will guide you too? "You have good instincts," the man replies. "Imteus will guide you in many avenues in the future. Perhaps even in the realm of politics?" You nod in understanding. A few of the locals cast you suspicious looks, as if you have committed a great sin for talking to the man with the Ancient Ones' figurines. Realising that you should not linger longer, you bid the man goodbye and depart with the clay idol of Imteus hidden in your pocket. <<elseif $gabusidol is true>> You pick up the idol of Gabus and peer at their expression. There is no doubt that the Ishari believed that the figurines of the deities would guide and protect those who carried them. Perhaps Gabus will guide you too? "You have good instincts," the man replies. "Gabus will guide you in many avenues in the future. Perhaps even in the realm of warfare?" You nod in understanding. A few of the locals cast you suspicious looks, as if you have committed a great sin for talking to the man with the Ancient Ones' figurines. Realising that you should not linger longer, you bid the man goodbye and depart with the clay idol of Gabus hidden in your pocket. <<elseif $atsesidol is true>> You pick up the idol of Atses and peer at his expression. There is no doubt that the Ishari believed that the figurines of the deities would guide and protect those who carried them. Perhaps Atses will guide you too? "You have good instincts," the man replies. "Atses will guide you in many avenues in the future. Perhaps even in the realm of leadership?" You nod in understanding. A few of the locals cast you suspicious looks, as if you have committed a great sin for talking to the man with the Ancient Ones' figurines. Realising that you should not linger longer, you bid the man goodbye and depart with the clay idol of Atses hidden in your pocket. <<elseif $noIdol is 1>> You choose not to take a figurine. It is far too dangerous to be caught with a figurine of an Ancient One, especially in Cyre. Mama had brought you here for your own safety. It is clear that you will be killed if the Blood Guard discovered the idol in your possession. "I cannot," you reply. "It will be too dangerous." The man nods sadly. "Yes, it may as well be. Still, know that the Ancient Ones are always there, regardless." You nod in understanding. A few of the locals cast you suspicious looks, as if you have committed a great sin for talking to the man with the Ancient Ones' figurines. Realising that you should not linger longer, you bid the man goodbye and depart. <<elseif $noIdol is 2>> You choose not to take a figurine. You do not believe in the magic of the Ancient Ones, nor do you worship them. You do not see a reason to take the figurine. "I cannot," you reply. "I do not believe in the Ancient Ones." The man sighs. "Yes, of course." A few of the locals cast you suspicious looks, as if you have committed a great sin for talking to the man with the Ancient Ones' figurines. Realising that you should not linger longer, you bid the man goodbye and depart. <</if>> [[Next.|prlg14a]]

<<set $year to "Aedes, 535">> <div class="timeline">Salt Bay, Cyre</div> This winter, you're no longer considered a child. At seventeen, you've grown... [[...much taller than the others in Salt Bay.|prlg15_1][$height to "tall"]] [[...a little taller. You're considered an average height in Salt Bay.|prlg15_1][$height to "average"]] [[...not much taller. You're still considered quite short in Salt Bay.|prlg15_1][$height to "short"]]

<<set $charactercreate to true>> The winter has brought with it less crops, though, fishermen like Ahlf have welcomed the colder waters for they bring seasonal fish only caught in the cool, winter seas. This morning, Ahlf is far out at sea and you have been left behind in the cottage. It is quiet and the rest of the hamlet have holed up indoors, to keep from shivering in the cold. The interior of the cottage keeps most of the cold out and the fireplace roars with hearty flames. You are busy searching the tall wardrobe. It is an old piece of furniture where Ahlf keeps most of his books and ledgers for the markets. You are searching for your favourite book on... [[...politics and treaties.|prlg15_2][$politics +=5]] [[...leadership and reigns.|prlg15_2][$leadership +=5]] [[...warfare and ancient battles.|prlg15_2][$blades +=5]]

But instead of finding the worn book, you find a closed box, buried deep under piles of scrolls and papers. It is not a box you've seen before and certainly not one that you've seen Ahlf take out. Curious, you reach out and pull the box out of the wardrobe. The box is unusually fine, carved with intricate patterns of a deep jade colour. In all the years you have lived in the cottage with Ahlf, never have you seen such luxury. All your clothes have been sewn from rough material and the furniture has withered with age. Carefully, you bring the box to your seat beside the fireplace. It is sealed with a golden clasp, one which you flick open with a soft click. Opening it does not reveal any type of gold or jewels. Instead, you find neatly folded papers, some faded with time and others, crisper and neater. You've never known Ahlf to receive letters, nor have you ever witnessed him writing to anyone. Perhaps these are family letters before your arrival? Without thinking, you reach out for the first folded, page. [[Next.|prlg15_3]]

//Cerura, 514 'General Ahlf I am pleased to hear of your progress. The Ishari have caused us far too much trouble. Already, there are whispers of returning to the Ancient Ones by the courtiers. I fear that if the threat of the Ishari continues, it will undoubtedly lead to the demise of the Cyrene way of life. Do what you must to ensure the Blood Guard succeeds. The kingdom is counting on your success. -E.'// Your eyes scan the contents of the parchment. This is a letter, addressed to Ahlf, your father. You have never seen this letter before. Why does it mention the Blood Guard, the guard responsible for the destruction of Ishari? More importantly, why is the letter addressed to Ahlf? [[You are surprised by this revelation.|prlg15_4]] [[You are hurt that your father kept secrets from you.|prlg15_4]] [[You are furious that your father kept secrets from you.|prlg15_4]] [[You are shocked, but always suspected your father of hiding secrets from you.|prlg15_4]] [[You are angry, but always suspected your father of hiding secrets from you.|prlg15_4]] [[You are upset, but always suspected your father of hiding secrets from you.|prlg15_4]] [[You always suspected that your father was hiding secrets from you.|prlg15_4]]

With the discovery of this one letter, you realise that the jade box was kept hidden for a very particular reason. You are still alone in the cottage and you know that you have a little time before Ahlf returns. Knowing more about Ahlf seems too good to pass up, and without thinking, you reach for the other letters. [[Next|prlg15_4_1]]

There are various different letters in the box, too many to read before Ahlf returns from fishing. Still, there are a few letters that stand out to you. You decide to read... <<set $letterParents to false>><<set $letterArmy to false>><<set $letterBetray to false>> [[...the neatly rolled page, tied with a scarlet ribbon.|prlg15_411][$letterParents to true]] [[...the thickly folded page, yellowing with age.|prlg15_412][$letterArmy to true]] [[...wrinkled page, tattered and tearing.|prlg15_413][$letterBetray to true]]

You choose to read the letter, rolled and tied with a scarlet ribbon. Untying the ribbon, you unfurl the page. As you do, the paper emits a faint perfumed scent. Neatly written letters greet you, as if the sender had taken time to craft something beautiful. You begin to read the letter, hoping to unearth its secrets. //'Afih, 517 My heart's gleam. It has been many moons since I have last laid eyes upon you. I hope that you are faring well. After the battle, many of my people have fled across the seas in search of a safer home. My Ama urged me to follow her to a land free from the Blood Guard, but I refused. I will not let our child grow without knowing you. Without interference from Cyre, the remainder of our people have started rebuilding what was destroyed. You may think it is odd that the bridge still stands, even after the fires which rained upon it like the wrath of the sun, but my people know that it is the work of the Ancient Ones. They will protect us, as much as I pray they will protect our child and you from harm. Forever yours, Salyra.'// [[Your breath catches in your throat, at the sight of your mother's letter.|prlg15_4112]] [[Your eyes prickle with unshed tears, at the sight of your mother's letter.|prlg15_4112]] [[You feel numb at the sight of your mother's letter.|prlg15_4112]] [[You tremble with fury to discover your mother's letter, locked away.|prlg15_4112]] [[You frown in confusion to discover your mother's letter, locked away.|prlg15_4112]]

You decide to read the thickly folded page, yellowing with age. As you unfold the page, you become aware that the paper seems to be finely made, as if it came from a wealthy sender. You begin to read the letter, hoping to uncover its secrets. //'Grydin, 516. Ahlf, what madness has befallen you? I have heard the most worrying rumours that you consort with one of the Ishari women. You cannot fall prey to the wiles of the Ishari. They will use any means to lower your defences, even if you foolishly believe it to be love. You are a general and you are duty-bound to the men who you lead. I entrusted you because I knew your loyalty could not sway, not in the face of the Ishari or their Ancient Ones. You must see reason, even if you do not want to. The Ishari threat is growing and we cannot allow them to go on as they are, not after spitting at our offers of trade. Do not let the Ishari woman corrupt you. Return to your duties, and I will forget your misdeeds. -E.'// [[You are confused by the revelations of your father's past.|prlg15_4122]] [[You are angry by the revelations of your father's past.|prlg15_4122]] [[You are upset by the revelations of your father's past.|prlg15_4122]] [[You are horrified by the revelations of your father's past.|prlg15_4122]] [[You feel numb at the revelations of your father's past.|prlg15_4122]]

You pick the wrinkled page from the box and gently smooth it open. The writing is smudged, as if the ink had been washed away by raindrops. Torn at the edges, the page seems to be in a far worse condition than the other letters. Hoping to uncover its secrets, you begin to read. //'Rihuln, 517. I will not forgive you. Not this time, Ahlf. You have betrayed Cyre. You have betrayed our friendship. Do not think that you can beg for my aid, not any longer. You are released from your duties as general. The Blood Guard will no longer follow you into madness. You fooled me into believing your lies. What a treacherous bastard you are! To think that I allowed you to see Irus, to hold him as if you were family. I cannot stand aside any longer, not while you throw yourself to the corrupt Ishari. I hope that the Ishari woman was worth your sacrifice. Pray that you never see me again, or it will be your blood that is spilt. -E.'// [[Your hands shake in shock as you read the letter.|prlg15_4133]] [[Your vision blurs with unshed tears as you read the letter.|prlg15_4133]] [[Your throat tightens and you struggle to breathe, as you read the letter.|prlg15_4133]] [[You are numb, rendered motionless as you read the letter.|prlg15_4133]] [[Your fingers tighten in fury as you read the letter.|prlg15_4133]]

The door to the cottage opens. You are startled by the sound, so absorbed in reading the letter in your hands. Looking up, you find Ahlf standing in the doorway. His eyes find you and in your moment of confusion, you realise that the jade box is lying open in your lap. The change is instant in Ahlf's expression. It is frightening, reminding you very much of the night you first met him. "What are you doing?" he roars. He storms towards you, snatching the jade box from your lap. You stare up at Ahlf, your father as he glowers so fiercely that you are certain a lesser man would have fled. "Give me the letter," he demands. "It does not belong to you." You stare at your mother's letter, her neat handwriting that was meant for Ahlf. She called him her 'heart's gleam'. She loved him once. <<set $Motherletterresponse to 0>> [[You demand answers from Ahlf.|prlg15_41122]] [[You apologise to Ahlf and hand him back the letter.|prlg15_41121][$Motherletterresponse +=1]] [[You hand the letter back in silent fury.|prlg15_41121][$Motherletterresponse +=2]] [[You hand the letter back in quiet numbness.|prlg15_41121][$Motherletterresponse +=3]]

The door to the cottage opens. You are startled by the sound, so absorbed in reading the letter in your hands. Looking up, you find Ahlf standing in the doorway. His eyes find you and in your moment of confusion, you realise that the jade box is lying open in your lap. The change is instant in Ahlf's expression. It is frightening, reminding you very much of the night you first met him. "What are you doing?" he roars. He storms towards you, snatching the jade box from your lap. You stare up at Ahlf, your father as he glowers so fiercely that you are certain a lesser man would have fled. "Give me the letter," he demands. "It does not belong to you." You stare at the letter addressed to your father. It seems that whoever he was in the past, he was far more important than a simple fisherman. <<set $erlanletter to 0>> [[You demand answers from Ahlf.|prlg15_erlan1]] [[You apologise to Ahlf and hand him back the letter.|prlg15_erlan1_1][$erlanletter +=1]] [[You hand the letter back in silent fury.|prlg15_erlan1_1][$erlanletter +=2]] [[You hand the letter back in quiet numbness.|prlg15_erlan1_1][$erlanletter +=3]]

The door to the cottage opens. You are startled by the sound, so absorbed in reading the letter in your hands. Looking up, you find Ahlf standing in the doorway. His eyes find you and in your moment of confusion, you realise that the jade box is lying open in your lap. The change is instant in Ahlf's expression. It is frightening, reminding you very much of the night you first met him. "What are you doing?" he roars. He storms towards you, snatching the jade box from your lap. You stare up at Ahlf, your father as he glowers so fiercely that you are certain a lesser man would have fled. "Give me the letter," he demands. "It does not belong to you." You stare at the letter addressed to your father. It seems that your father was embroiled in more than a simple fishing business in the past. <<set $erlanletter to 0>> [[You demand answers from Ahlf.|prlg_erlan3]] [[You apologise to Ahlf and hand him back the letter.|prlg_erlan_3][$erlanletter +=1]] [[You hand the letter back in silent fury.|prlg_erlan_3][$erlanletter +=2]] [[You hand the letter back in quiet numbness.|prlg_erlan_3][$erlanletter +=3]]

You decide to question Ahlf about your mother's letter. <<linkreplace "You question Ahlf as to why he has the letter." t8n>>"Why do you have the letter?" you ask. Ahlf scowls at your question. There is a dark expression on his face, as if you have insulted him greatly. You do not waver, nor do you fold at his expression. You want answers. After a moment, Ahlf turns away. His voice is gruff when he speaks. "Your mother sent me the letter," is all he says.<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You ask him why the letter was hidden." t8n>>"Why were you hiding it from me?" you question. "It was not hidden," Ahlf replies. His eyes narrow. "I had it kept away with the rest of my important papers. Papers that you had no right rifling through."<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You question him about your mother." t8n>>"How did you know my mother? Why were you here in Cyre while she was in Ishari?" you demand. Ahlf's eyes flicker with an emotion you're not sure you understand. A moment passes before he speaks. "It is complicated, $name," he answers. "It is all you need to know." "No," you reply. "Tell me how you knew my mother." A grunt of irritation escapes Ahlf and he fixes you with a piercing stare. "I met your mother when I was in charge of leading the Blood Guard to Ishari," he replies. "We met while I was in Ishari. We fell in love and then we fell out of love. Are you satisfied?" he growls.<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You accuse him of destroying Ishari." t8n>>"You were part of the Blood Guard? Then you're responsible for attacking my home all those years ago," you hiss. Ahlf's eyes narrow and his voice thunders when he speaks, "I was not responsible for what happened to Ishari. By then, I was no longer part of the Blood Guard. I had no thirst for blood, $name."<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You accuse him of knowing about you while he lived in Cyre." t8n>>"So you knew I existed?" you question. "I knew, yes," Ahlf answers. "I didn't know who you were until Mama brought me to you," you respond. "Why didn't you visit us or-" "Your mother and I decided it would be better for the both of us if we did not communicate," Ahlf interrupts. "Especially not about you."<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You question Ahlf about how he feels about you and your mother." t8n>>"Did you even love Mama? Did you care that she was pregnant with your child - with me?" you ask. "At the time, I truly loved your mother," Ahlf murmurs. "But not even love can overcome the burden of your past. When I found out your mother was pregnant, many things were happening. I had lost the faith of the Blood Guard and I had been condemned for my relationship with an Ishari woman." "So what? You abandoned Mama and me?" you ask. Ahlf looks pained, as if even answering you caused him great turmoil. "I did what I had to," Ahlf replied. "To maintain my life in Cyre, I had to give up your mother and you. Your mother agreed with me. It was better this way, $name."<</linkreplace>> [[End your conversation.|prlg_15end_motherconvo]]

<<if $Motherletterresponse is 1>> "I am sorry," you murmur, in apology. Ahlf takes the letter from your hand, his eyes firmly on the letter in his hand. He does not speak, nor does he face you. Still, you have questions burning in your mind. <<elseif $Motherletterresponse is 2>> You hand the letter back to Ahlf, rage filling the silence you share with Ahlf. He smoothes the letter with careful hands, as if suspecting you of tarnishing the page. Despite the silence, your mind is filled with unasked questions. <<elseif $Motherletterresponse is 3>> You do not speak when you hand the letter to Ahlf. You are numb, rendered silent with everything you have learnt about your mother and Ahlf. Still, there are a thousand questions racing through your mind. Questions that only Ahlf can answer. <</if>> [[Question Ahlf about the letter.|prlg15_41122]]

// Audio List <<cacheaudio "mainsong" "music/ancient_wind.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "partone" "music/prophet_story.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "chp2" "music/arabian.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "scary" "music/scary.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "chp3" "music/ceremony.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "banquet" "music/sufi_dance.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "banquet_end" "music/fear.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "part2" "music/muslim.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "chp5" "music/desert_voices.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "chp5_end" "music/goodbye.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "chp6" "music/sahara_sunrise.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "chp6_end" "music/desert_storm.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "chp7" "music/prince_walk.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "chp8" "music/desert_tale.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "chp8_island" "music/the_sorrow.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "chp8_feast" "music/game_setting.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "chp8_romance" "music/calm_mind.mp3">> // MC Stats <<set $name = "Unknown">> <<set $gender = "Unknown">> <<set $MChim = "unknown">> <<set $MChe = "unknown">> <<set $MChis = "unknown">> <<set $heir = "Unknown">> <<set $gender = "unknown">> <<set $eye = "Unknown">> <<set $height = "Unknown">> <<set $hair = "Unknown">> <<set $hairlong = "Unknown">> <<set $skin = "Unknown">> //MC body <<set $chest = false>> <<set $breast = false>> <<set $folds = false>> <<set $length = false>> // Time and place <<set $year = "Unknown">> <<set $location = "Unknown">> // Glossary <<set $codeIshari = false>> <<set $codeBloodGuard = false>> <<set $codeSBay = false>> <<set $codeAncientOne = false>> <<set $codeValeria = false>> <<set $codeNomad = false>> <<set $codeTirigan = false>> <<set $codeRabiah = false>> <<set $codeSouthernIsland = false>> <<set $codeJoran = false>> <<set $codeNylah = false>> <<set $codeHadi = false>> // Father - relationship <<set $AhlfRel = 50>> <<set $showAhlfRel = false>> // Passive and Aggressive <<set $aggressive = 50>> <<set $passive = 50>> // Religion <<set $showspiritAncient = true>> <<set $spiritual_ancient = 50>> <<set $showSolus = true>> <<set $spiritual_solus = 50>> <<set $spiritual_twelve = 50>> // Basic stats <<set $showpolitics = true>> <<set $politics = 50>> <<set $showlead = true>> <<set $leadership = 50>> <<set $showblades = true>> <<set $blades = 50>> <<set $divinity = 50>> <<set $showdivinity = false>> // Character portraits <<set $irus_portrait = false>> <<set $elora_portrait = false>> <<set $oren_portrait = false>> <<set $anu_portrait = false>> <<set $erlan_portrait = false>> <<set $virion_portrait = false>> <<set $anu_portrait = false>> // MC ROMANCE <<set $flirt_bold = 0>> <<set $flirt_shy = 0>> //OREN <<set $bold_oren = 0>> <<set $shy_oren = 0>> //ELORA <<set $bold_elora = 0>> <<set $shy_elora = 0>> //ANU <<set $bold_anu = 0>> <<set $shy_anu = 0>> //LOCK IN ROMANCE <<set $irus_lock = false>> <<set $elora_lock = false>> <<set $oren_lock = false>> <<set $anu_lock = false>> <<set $relationship = false>> //KISS <<set $first_kiss = false>> // Romance stats - IRUS <<set $irusRel = 50>> <<set $irusRom = 0>> <<set $showIrusRel = false>> // OREN <<set $orenRel = 50>> <<set $orenRom = 0>> <<set $showOrenRel = false>> //ELORA <<set $eloraRel = 50>> <<set $eloraRom = 0>> <<set $showEloraRel = false>> //ANU <<set $anuRel = 50>> <<set $anuRom = 0>> <<set $showAnuRel = false>> //OTHER RELS <<set $nerenaRel = 50>> <<set $showNerenaRel = false>> <<set $zikarRel = 50>> <<set $showZikarRel = false>> <<set $ameraRel = 50>> //DENA// <<set $Dhe = "he">> <<set $Dhim = "him">> <<set $Dhis = "his">> <<set $Dgender = "man">> <<set $salyraRel = 50>> <<set $showSalyraRel = false>> <<set $ranaRel = 50>> <<set $showRanaRel = false>> <<set $danzorRel = 50>> <<set $showDanzorRel = false>> //LEADERSHIP - IRUS <<set $irus_lead_style = 50>> //ALLIES <<set $lena_trust = 30>> <<set $lena_free = false>> <<set $nomad_faction = 30>> <<set $south_faction = 50>> <<set $lamahu_sup = 30>>

<<if $Motherletterresponse is 0>> Sensing that you no longer have any questions for him, Ahlf snatches your mother's letter from your hand. You watch as he rolls the paper neatly once more, before he fastens it with the ribbon. There is a meticulous care in the way that he places the letter back into the jade box and pushes it back into the cupboard. <<else>> Sensing that you no longer have any questions for him, Ahlf rolls the letter neatly once more, before he fastens it with the ribbon. There is a meticulous care in the way that he places the letter back into the jade box and pushes it back into the cupboard. <</if>> Despite his answers to your questions, you find your mind fixed on the thought that your father knew about you. He left Ishari, and your mother to pursue a life here in Cyre. A life, where all he does is fish and bark orders at you. You stand to your full height, facing Ahlf as he turns to look at you. [[Next.|prlg_15endconvo1]]

All the years of stoic silence from your father and not once has he ever spoken to you about your mother, about his past or hers. Now, after reading the letter, you know far more than you ever did. Staring up at Ahlf, your father, you realise that you... [[...loathe him, for abandoning you and your mother.|prlg_15endconvo1_1]] [[...pity him, for living a life without knowing his child.|prlg_15endconvo1_1]] [[...understand him, for his decision to leave was not an easy one.|prlg_15endconvo1_1]] [[...do not care about him, much like he stopped caring about Mama and you.|prlg_15endconvo1_1]]

With Ahlf staring at you, you know that whatever you say now will impact your relationship with him for years to come. <<set $fatheremote to 0>> [["I hate you," you spit. "I wish I never came to Salt Bay. I wish I never met you."|prlg_15convoend1][$AhlfRel -=10, $fatheremote +=1]] [["I feel sorry for you," you state. "All these years, you could have been with Mama and me but you chose to be alone in Cyre."|prlg_15convoend1][$AhlfRel -=5, $fatheremote +=2]] [["I understand why you left us. I am only sorry that you did leave so early," you murmur.|prlg_15convoend1][$AhlfRel +=5, $fatheremote +=3]] [["I forgive you for leaving Mama and me," you say. "I only hope that our relationship can grow from now."|prlg_15convoend1][$AhlfRel +=10, $fatheremote +=4]]

Ahlf does not respond to your words, instead, you see his reaction in the subtle change of his expression. <<if $fatheremote is 1>> His eyes darken and his eyebrows furrow. Beside his sides, his hands ball into fists, as if he's readying himself for a fight. Letting out a fierce growl, Ahlf turns away from you and exits the cottage. The door slams shut, once he's left. All that remains is the terse silence and the weight of your past. <<elseif $fatheremote is 2>> Ahlf's mouth twists into a scowl, his eyes narrowing at you. His expression is twisted, as if he's refraining from yelling at you. Letting out a grunt of annoyance, Ahlf turns away from you and exits the cottage. The door slams shut once he's left. All that remains is the silence and the weight of your past. <<elseif $fatheremote is 3>> A flicker of sadness, passes through Ahlf's gaze. It is so rare that for a second, you think that you must have imagined it. But then, Ahlf's lips pull into a frown and his expression, always so dour is now softened with regret. He nods to you and heads out of the cottage, perhaps seeking solace in his thoughts. The door closes behind Ahlf, leaving you alone with the quiet stillness and the weight of your past. <<elseif $fatheremote is 4>> Ahlf's eyes seem to glisten and for a moment, you think he might cry. But then, he blinks and the sheen that was there is gone. Instead, Ahlf offers you a soft smile, one so rare and so genuine that it takes you by surprise. Reaching out, he pats your shoulder before he turns and heads out of the cottage. You watch as he leaves, the door closing behind him. You are left alone, in the quiet of the cottage and the weight of your past. <</if>> [[Next.|Part_One]]

<<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "partone" loop play>> <div class="heading">Part One</div><div class="borderstyle">p</div> <div class="timeline">'Follow the path you are on and you will reach your destination. Divert and you may reach your destiny.' - Ishari Proverb</div> <center>[[Next.|chapter_one]]</center>

You decide to question Ahlf about the letter addressed to him. <<linkreplace "You question Ahlf as to why he has the letter." t8n>>"Why do you have such a letter?" you ask. Ahlf scowls at your question. There is a dark expression on his face, as if you have insulted him greatly. You do not waver, nor do you fold at his expression. You want answers. After a moment, Ahlf turns away. His voice is gruff when he speaks. "It was sent to me," is all he says.<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You ask him why the letter was hidden." t8n>>"Why was the letter hidden?" you question. "It was not hidden," Ahlf replies. His eyes narrow. "I had it kept away with the rest of my important papers. Papers that you had no right rifling through."<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You question him about the writer of the letter." t8n>>"Who is E?" you demand. "Why did E send you a letter like this?" Ahlf's eyes flicker with an emotion you're not sure you understand. A moment passes before he speaks. "It is complicated, $name," he answers. "It is all you need to know." "No," you reply. "Tell me how who E is." A flash of anger spreads through his $eye eyes. For a moment, you fear that he might lash out and yell at you. But then, he speaks in a low tone that causes the hairs on the back of your neck to rise. "You should not be meddling with that letter. It is better that you do not become involved in matters of my past," Ahlf growls<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You question Ahlf about his involvement with the Blood Guard." t8n>>"You were part of the Blood Guard?" you ask. Ahlf lets out a long sigh. It is a weary sound that causes his shoulders to sag, as if he bore the weight of all his burdens at once. For the first time, your father seems exhausted. "I was," he admits. "For a long time, I led the Blood Guard"<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You accuse Ahlf of being part of the people who destroyed Ishari." t8n>>"You were part of the people who destroyed my home. You're the reason why Mama and I had to flee," you breathe. "No," Ahlf protests. "No. That is not true. I... left the Guard by then. I had no role in the attack. No role in what happened that night all those years ago." You stare at him, pensive.<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You ask him if he regrets leaving the Blood Guard." t8n>>"Do you regret it?" you question. "Do you regret leaving?" "Leaving?" Ahlf scoffs. "There was no choice, $name. I had to leave. Whatever happened between your mother and I, it could not continue. The Blood Guard became something else, something that I no longer wanted to be a part of. I did what was best for everyone. I left." "Do you regret it?" you ask again. Ahlf looks pained, as if even answering you caused him great turmoil. "No," Ahlf sighs. "Maybe once, but not anymore."<</linkreplace>> [[End your conversation.|prlg_15_erlan]]

<<if $erlanletter is 1>> "I am sorry," you murmur, in apology. Ahlf takes the letter from your hand, his eyes firmly on the letter in his hand. He does not speak, nor does he face you. Still, you have questions burning in your mind. <<elseif $erlanletter is 2>> You hand the letter back to Ahlf, rage filling the silence you share with Ahlf. He smoothes the letter with careful hands, as if suspecting you of tarnishing the page. Despite the silence, your mind is filled with unasked questions. <<elseif $erlanletter is 3>> You do not speak when you hand the letter to Ahlf. You are numb, rendered silent with everything you have learnt about your mother and Ahlf. Still, there are a thousand questions racing through your mind. Questions that only Ahlf can answer. <</if>> [[Question Ahlf about the letter.|prlg15_erlan1]]

<<if $erlanletter is 0>> Sensing that you no longer have any questions for him, Ahlf snatches the letter from your hand. You watch as he folds the paper neatly once more. There is a reverent way in the manner that he places the letter back into the jade box and pushes it back into the cupboard. <<else>> Sensing that you no longer have any questions for him, Ahlf folds the letter neatly once more. There is a reverent way in the manner that he places the letter back into the jade box and pushes it back into the cupboard. <</if>> Despite his answers to your questions, you find your mind fixed on the thought that your father was part of the Blood Guard. He was part of the very same group that caused your mother to flee with you all those years ago. You stand to your full height, facing Ahlf as he turns to look at you. [[Next.|prlg_15_erlan2]]

All the years of stoic silence from your father and not once has he ever spoken to you about his history, about his past as part of the Blood Guard. Now, after reading the letter, you know far more than you ever did. Staring up at Ahlf, your father, you realise that you... [[...loathe him, for being part of the Blood Guard.|prlg_15erlanend]] [[...pity him, for ever being part of such a cruel group.|prlg_15erlanend]] [[...understand him, for his decision to leave could not have been an easy one.|prlg_15erlanend]] [[...do not care about his choices.|prlg_15erlanend]]

With Ahlf staring at you, you know that whatever you say now will impact your relationship with him for years to come. <<set $fatheremote1 to 0>> [["I hate you," you spit. "I wish I never came to Salt Bay. I wish I never met you."|prlg15_erlan3][$AhlfRel -=10, $fatheremote1 +=1]] [["I feel sorry for you," you state. "All these years, you were part of the Blood Guard, ruining people just because of their beliefs."|prlg15_erlan3][$AhlfRel -=5, $fatheremote1 +=2]] [["I do not care that you were part of the Blood Guard, only that you left them," you murmur.|prlg15_erlan3][$AhlfRel +=5, $fatheremote1 +=3]] [["I forgive you for being part of the Blood Guard," you breathe. "I only hope that our relationship will move past this."|prlg15_erlan3][$AhlfRel +=10, $fatheremote1 +=4]]

Ahlf does not respond to your words, instead, you see his reaction in the subtle change of his expression. <<if $fatheremote1 is 1>> His eyes darken and his eyebrows furrow. Beside his sides, his hands ball into fists, as if he's readying himself for a fight. Letting out a fierce growl, Ahlf turns away from you and exits the cottage. The door slams shut, once he's left. All that remains is the terse silence and the weight of your past. <<elseif $fatheremote1 is 2>> Ahlf's mouth twists into a scowl, his eyes narrowing at you. His expression is twisted, as if he's refraining from yelling at you. Letting out a grunt of annoyance, Ahlf turns away from you and exits the cottage. The door slams shut once he's left. All that remains is the silence and the weight of your past. <<elseif $fatheremote1 is 3>> A flicker of sadness, passes through Ahlf's gaze. It is so rare that for a second, you think that you must have imagined it. But then, Ahlf's lips pull into a frown and his expression, always so dour is now softened with regret. He nods to you and heads out of the cottage, perhaps seeking solace in his thoughts. The door closes behind Ahlf, leaving you alone with the quiet stillness and the weight of your past. <<elseif $fatheremote1 is 4>> Ahlf's eyes seem to glisten and for a moment, you think he might cry. But then, he blinks and the sheen that was there is gone. Instead, Ahlf offers you a soft smile, one so rare and so genuine that it takes you by surprise. Reaching out, he pats your shoulder before he turns and heads out of the cottage. You watch as he leaves, the door closing behind him. You are left alone, in the quiet of the cottage and the weight of your past. <</if>> [[Next.|Part_One]]

You decide to question Ahlf about the letter addressed to him. <<linkreplace "You question Ahlf as to why he has the letter." t8n>>"Why do you have such a letter?" you ask. Ahlf scowls at your question. There is a dark expression on his face, as if you have insulted him greatly. You do not waver, nor do you fold at his expression. You want answers. After a moment, Ahlf turns away. His voice is gruff when he speaks. "It was sent to me," is all he says.<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You ask him why the letter was hidden." t8n>>"Why was the letter hidden?" you question. "It was not hidden," Ahlf replies. His eyes narrow. "I had it kept away with the rest of my important papers. Papers that you had no right rifling through."<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You question him about the writer of the letter." t8n>>"Who is E?" you demand. "Why did E send you a letter like this?" Ahlf's eyes flicker with an emotion you're not sure you understand. A moment passes before he speaks. "It is complicated, $name," he answers. "It is all you need to know." "No," you reply. "Tell me how who E is." A flash of anger spreads through his $eye eyes. For a moment, you fear that he might lash out and yell at you. But then, he speaks in a low tone that causes the hairs on the back of your neck to rise. "You should not be meddling with that letter. It is better that you do not become involved in matters of my past," Ahlf growls<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You ask Ahlf who Irus is." t8n>>"Who is Irus? Is this letter about your family?" you question. "Family?" Ahlf barks out, his eyes narrowing in anger. "I have no family, $name. Irus is none of your concern. Do not go poking into things that you are better off not knowing."<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You question Ahlf about his supposed betrayal." t8n>>"Why are you being accused of betraying Cyre?" you ask. "Because I did betray Cyre," Ahlf mutters. "I betrayed everyone and everything I stood for, when I met your mother. When we decided to follow our hearts instead of our duties." You stare at him, frowing.<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You ask him if he ever loved your mother." t8n>>"Did you love Mama?" you ask. "Love?" Ahlf asks. He huffs, a breathy sound that is both irritated and tired. "I was young and a fool, $name. What did I know about love back then?" "But did you love her?" you repeat. "I did," Ahlf sighs. "We both thought our love could withstand everything else. It was a foolish notion. One that has destroyed more than you will ever know."<</linkreplace>> [[End your conversation.|prlg_15_erlan3]]

<<if $erlanletter is 0>> Sensing that you no longer have any questions for him, Ahlf snatches the letter from your hand. You watch as he hastily folds the paper, uncaring if it tears. There is a rough way as he shoves the letter back into the jade box and pushes it back into the cupboard. <<else>> Sensing that you no longer have any questions for him, Ahlf snatches the letter from your hand. You watch as he hastily folds the paper, uncaring if it tears. There is a rough way as he shoves the letter back into the jade box and pushes it back into the cupboard. <</if>> Despite his answers to your questions, you find your mind fixed on the thought that your father was part of something far greater in his past. He was part of the very same group that caused your mother to flee with you all those years ago. You stand to your full height, facing Ahlf as he turns to look at you. [[Next.|prlg_15_erlan_3]]

All the years of stoic silence from your father and not once has he ever spoken to you about his history, about his past as part of the Blood Guard. Now, after reading the letter, you know far more than you ever did. Staring up at Ahlf, your father, you realise that you... [[...loathe him, for being part of the Blood Guard.|prlg_15erlanend3]] [[...pity him, for ever being part of such a cruel group.|prlg_15erlanend3]] [[...understand him, for his decision to leave behind his past.|prlg_15erlanend3]] [[...do not care about his choices.|prlg_15erlanend3]]

With Ahlf staring at you, you know that whatever you say now will impact your relationship with him for years to come. <<set $fatheremote2 to 0>> [["I hate you," you spit. "I wish I never came to Salt Bay. I wish I never met you."|prlg15_erlanend3][$AhlfRel -=10, $fatheremote2 +=1]] [["I feel sorry for you," you state. "All these years, you were part of the Blood Guard, ruining people just because of their beliefs."|prlg15_erlanend3][$AhlfRel -=5, $fatheremote2 +=2]] [["I do not care that you were part of the Blood Guard, only that you left them," you murmur.|prlg15_erlanend3][$AhlfRel +=5, $fatheremote2 +=3]] [["I forgive you for being part of the Blood Guard," you breathe. "I only hope that our relationship will move past this."|prlg15_erlanend3][$AhlfRel +=10, $fatheremote2 +=4]]

Ahlf does not respond to your words, instead, you see his reaction in the subtle change of his expression. <<if $fatheremote2 is 1>> His eyes darken and his eyebrows furrow. Beside his sides, his hands ball into fists, as if he's readying himself for a fight. Letting out a fierce growl, Ahlf turns away from you and exits the cottage. The door slams shut, once he's left. All that remains is the terse silence and the weight of your past. <<elseif $fatheremote2 is 2>> Ahlf's mouth twists into a scowl, his eyes narrowing at you. His expression is twisted, as if he's refraining from yelling at you. Letting out a grunt of annoyance, Ahlf turns away from you and exits the cottage. The door slams shut once he's left. All that remains is the silence and the weight of your past. <<elseif $fatheremote2 is 3>> A flicker of sadness, passes through Ahlf's gaze. It is so rare that for a second, you think that you must have imagined it. But then, Ahlf's lips pull into a frown and his expression, always so dour is now softened with regret. He nods to you and heads out of the cottage, perhaps seeking solace in his thoughts. The door closes behind Ahlf, leaving you alone with the quiet stillness and the weight of your past. <<elseif $fatheremote2 is 4>> Ahlf's eyes seem to glisten and for a moment, you think he might cry. But then, he blinks and the sheen that was there is gone. Instead, Ahlf offers you a soft smile, one so rare and so genuine that it takes you by surprise. Reaching out, he pats your shoulder before he turns and heads out of the cottage. You watch as he leaves, the door closing behind him. You are left alone, in the quiet of the cottage and the weight of your past. <</if>> [[Next.|Part_One]]

<div class="back"><<link "Return" $return>><</link>></div> <div class="menu">Characters:</div> <div class="back">To learn more about each character, click on the portraits below.</div> <<if $irus_portrait is true>> <center><<link [img[images/profile_irus.png]]>> <<set Dialog.setup("Prince Irus")>> <<set Dialog.wiki("Prince Irus is the exiled prince from the Kingdom of Cyre. He seeks to reclaim his throne from his uncle, Virion. Prince Irus is King Erlan's illegitimate son, shared with a low born noblewoman.")>> <<set Dialog.open()>><</link>></center> <<else>><</if>> <<if $elora_portrait is true>> <center><<link [img[images/profile_elora.png]]>> <<set Dialog.setup("Queen Elora")>> <<set Dialog.wiki("Queen Elora is the young queen of the Kingdom of Vinia. Queen Elora currently seeks to make new alliances with neighbouring kingdoms, ending Vinia's long tradition of neutrality.")>> <<set Dialog.open()>><</link>></center> <<else>><</if>> <<if $oren_portrait is true>> <center><<link [img[images/profile_oren.png]]>> <<set Dialog.setup("Sir Oren")>> <<set Dialog.wiki("Sir Oren is the Captain of the Vinian Royal Guard. He is skilled in weaponry and will fight to defend his nation.")>> <<set Dialog.open()>><</link>></center> <<else>><</if>> <<if $erlan_portrait is true>> <center><<link [img[images/profile_erlan.png]]>> <<set Dialog.setup("King Erlan")>> <<set Dialog.wiki("King Erlan is the former king of the Kingdom of Cyre. King Erlan fathered a bastard son, Prince Irus who was meant to take control of Cyre upon his death.")>> <<set Dialog.open()>><</link>></center> <<else>><</if>> <<if $virion_portrait is true>> <center><<link [img[images/profile_virion.png]]>> <<set Dialog.setup("King Virion")>> <<set Dialog.wiki("Virion is the younger brother of King Erlan and the new king of the Kingdom of Cyre. Virion was enraged to learn of Prince Irus being named successor to the throne. He gathered his supporters and exiled the young prince, naming himself as the new ruler of Cyre.")>> <<set Dialog.open()>><</link>></center> <<else>><</if>> <<if $anu_portrait is true>> <center><<link [img[images/profile_anu.png]]>> <<set Dialog.setup("Anu")>> <<set Dialog.wiki("Anu is a Priestess of Ehulla. Orphaned at a young age, she was taken in by her foster father, Sargon, and vowed to end the war between Ishari and Cyre using any means possible.")>> <<set Dialog.open()>><</link>></center> <<else>><</if>>

<div class="heading">Chapter One</div><div class="borderstyle">p</div> <div class="timeline">Age of Aedes, Year 544, Spring</div> <<set $year to "Aedes, 544">> <center>[[Begin.|chp1_start]]</center> <center><<linkreplace "Trigger warnings." t8n>>Blood, death, fire, suffocation, choking, violence, vulgar language, religious discrimination and mentions of parental death.<</linkreplace>></center>

<div class="timeline">Salt Bay, Cyre</div> King Erlan is dead and the Kingdom of Cyre is in mourning. There is something morbid about the way death binds the kingdom together. You notice it the moment news of King Erlan's death reaches Salt Bay. Instead of the harvest celebrations, you watch as ribbons and banners are replaced by flags of Cyre, a golden sun surrounded by rays of gold. In Salt Bay, it is easy to forget about rulers and nobles. Yet, now, it is hard to remember why King Erlan was ever forgotten. All around you, the stalls of foods and exotic wares have been stripped bare. Now all that remains is the sombre silence which follows quietly after death. You do not remember a time that Salt Bay was ever this //silent//. [[Next.|chp1][$erlan_portrait to true]]

Beyond the cottage, the residents have gathered in the middle of the hamlet in mourning. Ahlf only scowled when he noticed the rest of Salt Bay, bowed together in prayer for the dead king. He forbade you from joining the rest of the mourners, regardless of how you felt about it. Since learning of King Erlan's death, Ahlf has been in a foul mood. He barely spoke to you, before he stormed out of the cottage hours ago. It is not unusual for your father's moods to be so dour, but his restlessness left you feeling confused. Now, as you remain alone in the cottage, weathered with age, your gaze returns to the mourners from afar. A raised dias, made of wood sits before the mourners. You watch as residents weep and place flower garlands atop the dias, in honour of King Erlan. You... <<set $mourn to 0>> [[...are saddened by King Erlan's death and mourn him from your cottage.|chp1_1][$mourn +=1]] [[...are glad that King Erlan is dead, for he is the reason that the Blood Guard exists.|chp1_1][$mourn +=2]] [[...are angered that King Erlan is being mourned by so many as if he was a hero.|chp1_1][$mourn +=3]] [[...are unbothered by the mourning of King Erlan, not really caring.|chp1_1][$mourn +=4]]

<<if $mourn is 1>> You are saddened by King Erlan's death and mourn him from your cottage. While you are not a part of the rest of the mourners, you are still able to hear the prayers and weeping from the centre of Salt Bay. Regardless of who King Erlan was in life, in death, he is as equal as anyone else. The weight of sombre mood pulls down at your shoulders and your head lowers with grief for King Erlan. His passing has brought the rest of the kingdom to a halt, and you too, feel his death fully. <<elseif $mourn is 2>> You are glad that King Erlan is dead, for he is the reason that the Blood Guard exists. For years, King Erlan has ordered for the destruction of Ishari. He is the reason why Mama fled with you all those years ago. Now, watching as others mourn his death, it is difficult to feel the same sorrow as the other residents of Salt Bay. Instead, you watch with satisfaction, knowing that King Erlan is gone and will no longer be able to order the Blood Guards against Ishari. While his death may be felt deeply by others, you are glad that he is dead. <<elseif $mourn is 3>> You are angered that King Erlan is being mourned by so many as if he was a hero. King Erlan is the reason of the deaths of many Ishari people. He is the very reason that you and Mama fled all those years ago. To watch him being mourned by the residents of Salt Bay leaves you feeling enraged. Fury fills you, like coils of vipers. You wish to yell out at the mourners that the man they cry over is a monster, undeserving of their devotion. <<elseif $mourn is 4>> You are unbothered by the mourning of King Erlan, not really caring. It is difficult to feel anything for King Erlan's death, as you watch the rest of the mourners. He was the King of Cyre, but you did not know him. The sadness which grips the rest of the mourning residents evades you, as though you were cursed. King Erlan's death may bring tears to some, but all you can do is watch, unbothered by the sight of the mourners. <</if>> [[Next.|chp1_2]]

Despite your own feelings about King Erlan's death, the rest of the residents do not falter in their mourning. Word of the King's illness spreads quickly as the crowd grows and from the cottage, you listen to the hushed whispers between passing residents. //'He was ill.' 'He was poisoned.' 'Who would kill the King?' 'They say he sired a bastard child.' 'I heard it was his brother.'// "What are you doing outside?" You jump in surprise, startled by the gruff voice. It belongs to Ahlf. He stands behind you, his $eye eyes dark and narrowed. His irritation from before seems to have worsened in the time that he was gone. You must have taken too long to respond, because Ahlf's lips pull into a scowl. "Get inside the cottage," Ahlf barks. "Now." [[Next.|chp1_3]]

You follow your father into the cottage, noting the way his fingers curl and uncurl at his sides. There is a silent tension in his shoulders, curling around him thickly. The years have aged Ahlf considerably. His hair is more grey than brown and wrinkles dot the corners of his eyes. Yet, as you gaze up at him, you realise that he is no less frightening than he had been when you first met him. "I told you not to participate in the mourning," Ahlf grunts. <<set $chp1_3response to 0>> [["I am sorry," you apologise. "I was just curious."|chp1_4][$chp1_3response +=1]] [["I was only watching from afar," you reply softly.|chp1_4][$chp1_3response +=2]] [["I was just watching from the cottage," you snap in anger.|chp1_4][$chp1_3response +=3]] [["I don't have to obey your every command," you hiss.|chp1_4][$chp1_3response +=4]]

<<if $chp1_3response is 1 and $AhlfRel gte 60>> "I am sorry," you apologise. "I was just curious." Ahlf sighs, before rubbing his brow. There is a weariness about his posture, an unseen force weighing him down. A moment passes and Ahlf turns to look at you fully. The anger that stained his features earlier has eased. He almost appears regretful for the way he spoke to you. "I know that you are curious by the mourning," Ahlf replies. "But please, $name, it is better that you are not a part of it." <<elseif $chp1_3response is 1 and $AhlfRel lte 59>> "I am sorry," you apologise. "I was just curious." Ahlf frowns, running his hand through his hair in irritation. You are used to his outbursts by now. But it seems your apology has placated him somewhat, because when he turns to face you, his anger has eased into mild irritation. "Do not let your curiosity lead you back," Ahlf states. "It is better that you are not a part of it." <<elseif $chp1_3response is 2 and $AhlfRel gte 60>> "I was only watching from afar," you reply softly. Ahlf lets out a breath, casting you a long look. His features soften, until the anger that had plagued him only moments before, eases. Whatever emotion plagues him, it is unknown to you, but your father seems at least apologetic for the way that he spoke to you. "I am sorry," Ahlf replies. "But watching can be as dangerous as joining in." <<elseif $chp1_3response is 2 and $AhlfRel lte 59>> "I was only watching from afar," you reply softly. Ahlf lets out a grunt of irritation, before turning to face you fully. His eyes are hard, but he does not seem as angry as before. Perhaps your contrite tone eased the sour mood which plagued him. You are used to Ahlf's outburst by now, but it seems that he makes an effort to restrain his emotions. "Watching is as bad as participating," Ahlf mutters. "Stay away from it all." <<elseif $chp1_3response is 3 and $AhlfRel gte 60>> "I was just watching from the cottage," you snap in anger. Ahlf is taken aback by your harsh response. Instantly, his eyebrows lower and the look his gaze becomes hard. Your relationship is not always this strained, but it appears that your response has only made things worse. Your father's voice is barely above a low growl when he speaks. "You will not watch the mourning," he spits. "You will stay far away from it." <<elseif $chp1_3response is 3 and $AhlfRel lte 59>> "I was just watching from the cottage," you snap in anger. Ahlf is taken aback by the vehemence in your tone, but the surprise soon gives way to his fury. His outbursts are not all that uncommon. Your relationship with Ahlf has not become any better over the years. Ahlf's lips pull down into a menacing scowl and the look he gives you is so cold that you feel it deep in your bones. "Do not watch the mourning," Ahlf growls. "Do not go anywhere near it." <<elseif $chp1_3response is 4 and $AhlfRel gte 60>> "I don't have to obey your every command," you hiss. Your response elicits a growl from Ahlf. He turns to face you fully, his expression one filled with thunderous rage. Moments pass, and you imagine that Ahlf must be considering whether to throw you out to sea or to kill you himself, before he looks way. His shoulders sag and when he speaks again, his voice is muffled with restraint. "You will obey me for your own safety, foolish $heir," he mutters. <<elseif $chp1_3response is 4 and $AhlfRel lte 59>> "I don't have to obey your every command," you hiss. The room grows eerily quiet and you almost think that Ahlf must not have heard you, when he turns to face you. His expression is dark, a cruel thing that makes him appear more monstrous than he is. You nearly cower under his glower, so intense in its fury that you feel it deep in your bones. He reaches out, gripping your shoulders tightly. "You will obey me, $name," he spits. "Lest you want to die." He releases you then, shoving you away as if the sight of you alone makes him sick. <</if>> [[Next.|chp1_5]]

A quietness fills the room, and your father turns away from your stare. It is evident that King Erlan's death has affected him more than he will ever admit. You wonder if it has anything to do with his role in the Blood Guard all those years ago. <<set $chp1_5 to 0>> [["Why have you forbidden me from participating in the mourning?" you ask.|chp1_6][$chp1_5 +=1]] [["Why does King Erlan's death affect you this much?" you question.|chp1_6][$chp1_5 +=2]] [["Everyone else is mourning the King, why aren't we?" you demand.|chp1_6][$chp1_5 +=3]]

<<if $chp1_5 is 1>> "Why have you forbidden me from participating in the mourning?" you ask. Ahlf frowns, his eyebrows furrowing. "That man deserves no mourning, $name. I thought you understood that." "But why are you so against the mourning?" you ask. Your father turns his glare onto you, it is dark and penetrating. "It is just better this way. Trust me on this," he answers. <<elseif $chp1_5 is 2>> "Why does King Erlan's death affect you this much?" you question. "Affect me?" Ahlf scoffs. "It does not affect me as much as it affects those fools outside, who devote their time to our dead King Erlan." "But it affects you still," you respond. Your father frowns, "His death affects us all. That is all you need to know." <<elseif $chp1_5 is 3>> "Everyone else is mourning the King, why aren't we?" you demand. Ahlf shoots you a look of disbelief. "And if the rest of the fools outside decided to drown themselves, would you want us to join in?" You frown at your father's response. "That is not what I meant. Why are we the only ones not mourning the King with the others?" "I will not explain my decisions to you, $name," Ahlf mutters. "Just know that I am doing what I must to keep us safe." <</if>> Your father turns away, moving into the other room of the cottage. Left without any concrete answers, you can only stew on your father's odd response. [[Next.|chp1_7]]

As evening swallows the remnants of daylight, you watch as the mourning residents slowly retire to their own homes. This year, there will be no harvest feasts or week-long celebrations to honour the Cyrene deity, Solus. Whatever merriment was planned has hastily become a way to mourn King Erlan. The long weeks of fishing has meant that the cottage reeks of fish, drying from the rafters of the ceiling. Without a harvest feast, most of Ahlf's catch will have to be sold to travelling merchants. As you prepare yourself for bed, your thoughts tug your mind to the memories of your mother. You have not seen her in over a decade. Many mourn the death of the King, and as you close your eyes, you... <<set $motherdeath to false>><<set $mother_unsure to false>> [[...mourn the loss of your mother, knowing that she cannot be alive.|chp1_8][$motherdeath to true]] [[...mourn the absence of your mother, but hope that she is still out there.|chp1_8]] [[...loathe the loss of your mother, knowing her to be dead.|chp1_8][$motherdeath to true]] [[...are numb to the absence of your mother, unsure if she is alive or not.|chp1_8][$mother_unsure to true]]

It is after midnight, when you awaken. You must have dozed off in your cot, but now, you are alert. Your skin prickles and your heart hammers in your chest. Something is wrong. It is an innate feeling. One that is familiar to the night that you and Mama fled from Ishari. You swing your legs over the bed and stand. Heat permeates the air and lines your skin with sweat. Your night shirt sticks to your back. When you emerge from your room, you notice that the front door of the cottage is open. Your chest constricts and you realise with horror that the air is thick and dark. //Smoke.// [[You run outside.|chp1_9]] [[You cry out and hurry outside.|chp1_9]] [[You cover your mouth and head outside.|chp1_9]]

As soon as you emerge outside, you are greeted by flames. It scorches your skin and you instinctively step back. A scream tears through the air, too horrific to be one of other than that of agony. Your eyes scan the hamlet. Salt Bay is on fire and there is no one to save it. Beyond the cottage, you watch as men, donned in red armour march the streets. //The Blood Guard.// Memories of fleeing with Mama return to you, like a cruel nightmare. The men, the Blood Guard are vicious. A woman cries out nearby, as one of the guards runs his sword through her stomach. Blood spews out of her mouth and all too soon, the woman is motionless. <<set $BGreac to 0>> [[You tremble in horror.|chp1_10][$BGreac +=1]] [[You feel unshed tears gather in your eyes at the sight.|chp1_10][$BGreac +=2]] [[You weep openly at the death and destruction around you.|chp1_10][$BGreac +=3]] [[You are numb to the sight, too shocked to react.|chp1_10][$BGreac +=4]] [[You feel rage fill you at the sight of the Blood Guard's ruthlessness.|chp1_10][$BGreac +=5]]

<<if $BGreac is 1>> You tremble in horror. There is carnage all around you, a suffocating hold of blood and misery. You can barely breathe, for the smoke that chokes you and the death around you. The hamlet you grew up in is being destroyed before your very eyes. You quake, unable to contain your horror at the chaos. Buckling beneath you, your knees struggle to keep you standing upright. You do not know what to do to stop yourself from trembling this much. Further down from your cottage, a Blood Guardsman charges towards a figure too small to be more than a child. Your eyes widen as the child's head is decapitated, rolling towards where you stand. You recoil from the sight, quivering as the Blood Guardsman finally notices you. <<elseif $BGreac is 2>> You feel unshed tears gather in your eyes at the sight. There is carnage all around you, a suffocating hold of blood and misery. You can barely breathe, for the smoke that chokes you and the death around you. The hamlet you grew up in is being destroyed before your very eyes. Your eyes sting as you blink away unshed tears. There is blood all around you. You watch as the residents of Salt Bay are slaughtered before your very eyes. Further down from your cottage, a Blood Guardsman charges towards a figure too small to be more than a child. Your eyes widen as the child's head is decapitated, rolling towards where you stand. You recoil from the sight, whimpering as the Blood Guardsman finally notices you. <<elseif $BGreac is 3>> You weep openly at the death and destruction around you. There is carnage all around you, a suffocating hold of blood and misery. You can barely breathe, for the smoke that chokes you and the death around you. The hamlet you grew up in is being destroyed before your very eyes. Tears stream down your face at the sight of the destruction of Salt Bay. It is a bloody sight, the stench of death heavy in the air. You cover your mouth as another sob escapes you. Further down from your cottage, a Blood Guardsman charges towards a figure too small to be more than a child. Your eyes widen as the child's head is decapitated, rolling towards where you stand. You recoil from the sight, weeping as the Blood Guardsman finally notices you. <<elseif $BGreac is 4>> You are numb to the sight, too shocked to react. There is carnage all around you, a suffocating hold of blood and misery. You can barely breathe, for the smoke that chokes you and the death around you. The hamlet you grew up in is being destroyed before your very eyes. Yet, you are numb to it all. Perhaps it is the shock or perhaps, you have become accustomed to the horror of the Blood Guard after you fled Ishari with Mama. There is a hollowness inside you, one that is indifferent to the sight before you. Further down from your cottage, a Blood Guardsman charges towards a figure too small to be more than a child. Your eyes watch as the child's head is decapitated, rolling towards where you stand. You recoil from the sight, an instinctive move as the Blood Guardsman finally notices you. <<elseif $BGreac is 5>> You feel rage fill you at the sight of the Blood Guard's ruthlessness. There is carnage all around you, a suffocating hold of blood and misery. You can barely breathe, for the smoke that chokes you and the death around you. The hamlet you grew up in is being destroyed before your very eyes. You clench your jaw and feel fury grip at your chest. The Blood Guard are ruthless in their savage destruction. They do not care about the careless slaughter of the lives and homes around you, much like they didn't care when Ishari was attacked all those years ago. You ball your hands into fists, feeling your nails dig into your palms. Further down from your cottage, a Blood Guardsman charges towards a figure too small to be more than a child. Your eyes watch as the child's head is decapitated, rolling towards where you stand. You recoil from the sight, glowering as the Blood Guardsman finally notices you. <</if>> [[Next.|chp1_11]]

The Guardsman wastes no time as he leaps towards you, sword raised high and stained with the blood of the dead child. You scramble backwards just in time as you hear the swoosh of the blade swinging down. It strikes the spot where you had been standing only seconds before. You are cornered against the cottage. Blood rushes through your ears. It is hard to breathe. The Guardsman yanks his blade from the ground and grins at you. His expression is ferocious. You realise that he means to kill you. [[You plead with him to spare your life.|chp1_12][$passive +=5, $aggressive -=5]] [[You turn to flee from his blade.|chp1_12][$passive +=5, $aggressive -=5]] [[You throw sand in his eyes, hoping to blind him as you dodge his attack.|chp1_12][$aggressive +=5, $passive -=5]] [[You ready yourself for a fight.|chp1_12][$passive +=5, $aggressive +=5]]

Before you can do anything, the Guardsman is shoved to the ground. You stare in surprise as your father brings a blade down against the Guardsman's neck. There is a sickening sound of blood gushing out as your father pulls his blade out. Blood coats Ahlf's hand, but he seems unconcerned. He turns to you, eyes wide and frantic. "$name," he breathes. "Are you hurt?" You shake your head, unable to look away from the bloodied dagger in your father's grip. He notices your stare and sighs, wiping the blade clean against his tunic. "There are still more of them," Ahlf mutters. "Come, it is not safe to remain out here." You do not protest as your father leads you away from the cottage and the dead Guardsman. [[Next.|chp1_13]]

The path you take is one you know well. It is the path your father uses when he goes out to sea. It is quieter here, but the smoke still permeates the air. Were it not for the moon, you would barely be able to see the winding path which leads down to the secluded seashore. You are still unsure of what is happening. But it is clear that your father does. <<linkreplace "You ask your father what is happening." t8n>>"What's happening? Why are the Blood Guard here, attacking us?" you ask. Ahlf barely looks back as he leads you towards the shore. When he speaks, his voice is gruff. "They are after someone," he answers.<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You ask him who they are after." t8n>>"Who are they looking for?" you question, nearly tripping over a stone. "Prince Irus," your father responds. <<if $letterBetray is true>> Irus, the name is familiar. You wrack your memories for where you have come across it and suddenly, you remember. The letter in the jade box all those years ago. You remember it now. It cannot simply be a coincidence that your father is talking about another Irus. <<else>> The name is unfamiliar you to you, but you know that he must be royalty. Still, no one knew much about King Erlan or his supposed heir. Yet, it seems as if your father knows more than he's letting on. <</if>><</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You question your father as to why they are here in Salt Bay." t8n>>"Why are they here? Salt Bay is barely a village worth visiting," you breathe. "Prince Irus is here, $name. He is fleeing from those who would see his head roll," your father responds, coughing. Your father stops, wheezing slightly as he struggles to breathe. For the first time since you started following him, you notice that Ahlf's stride is slower than normal.<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You ask Ahlf where you are going." t8n>>"Where are you taking us?" you ask. "Won't the Blood Guard follow?" Ahlf turns to look at you, his $eye eyes dark in the smoky air of the night. "We're going to Prince Irus." You open your mouth to question him further, but your father turns away and marches on, before you can speak.<</linkreplace>> [[Next.|chp1_14][$showIrusRel to true, $irus_portrait to true]]

You follow Ahlf, emerging into an open clearing. The shore, where the boat Ahlf keeps tethered, bobs along the sea. The sounds of screams and flames sound distant here, too far away to hurt you. But you know better. Once the Blood Guard set their sights on a target, they will not stop until they taste blood. "Over here," Ahlf calls. You hurry after your father, as he leads you away from the boat and the shore. Approaching the thick foliage, you notice movement and stop. Your heart thuds in your chest and for a second, you fear that you have been found. Your father gestures you to follow, and when you do not, he sighs. "It is only Prince Irus," he explains. Turning towards the foliage, your father speaks softly. "You can come out, $name is my $heir." You stare as the leaves are parted and out steps a young man. <<if $height is "tall">> He is tall, in similar height to you and to Ahlf. <<elseif $height is "average">> He is tall, taller than you but similar to Ahlf in height. <<elseif $height is "short">> He is tall, far taller than you, though quite similar in height to Ahlf. <</if>> He wears a finely made cloak, and beneath it, a leather padding, bearing the sigil of Cyre. There is no doubt in your mind that this man is a noble. But why is he here, with your father? [[Next.|chp1_15][$irus_portrait to true, $showIrusRel to true]]

The man, Prince Irus, frowns at you. There is something like disdain in his cobalt gaze when he looks at you. You become aware of the sweat that sticks to your skin and the ragged night shirt you wear. To him, you realise that you must look like a beggar. <<set $chp1_15 to 0>> [[You look away, embarrassed.|chp1_16][$chp1_15 +=1]] [[You frown in response, despite your pang of shame.|chp1_16][$chp1_15 +=2]] [[You are unfazed by the Prince's judgment of you.|chp1_16][$chp1_15 +=3]] [[You glower at the Prince, feeling annoyed by his haughty look.|chp1_16][$chp1_15 +=4]] [[You raise an eyebrow at the Prince, challenging him to say something about your appearance.|chp1_16][$chp1_15 +=5]]

<<if $chp1_15 is 1>> You look away, embarrassed. Compared to this Prince Irus, you are dressed in a stained night shirt and your appearance leaves little to be desired. Embarrassment crawls up your spine and your eyes fall to the ground. You do not want to witness the judgment in the Prince's gaze any longer. <<elseif $chp1_15 is 2>> You frown in response, despite your pang of shame. Compared to Prince Irus, you are dressed in a stained night shirt and your appearance leaves little to be desired. Still, you have had to bear witness to the carnage and destruction of your home and the people of Salt Bay. There was no time to stop for a quick change of clothes. <<elseif $chp1_15 is 3>> You are unfazed by the Prince's judgment of you. Compared to this Prince Irus, you are dressed in a stained night shirt and your appearance leaves little to be desired. Still, you are a fisherman's $heir and have witnessed the destruction and death of the people of your hamlet. So what if Prince Irus judges you? It is nothing compared to what you have been through. <<elseif $chp1_15 is 4>> You glower at the Prince, feeling annoyed by his haughty look. Compared to this Prince Irus, you are dressed in a stained night shirt and your appearance leaves little to be desired. The way he stares at you makes your jaw clench. Who does he think he is, to look down on you? You have just witnessed the death and destruction of the people in Salt Bay. If anything, this haughty Prince should be looking away in shame for flaunting such wealth in a time of chaos. <<elseif $chp1_15 is 5>> You raise an eyebrow at the Prince, challenging him to say something about your appearance. Compared to this Prince Irus, you are dressed in a stained night shirt and your appearance leaves little to be desired. Still, you dare the Prince to speak badly about you. It is clear that he has not seen the death and destruction surrounding Salt Bay, or his haughty look would not be so prominent. <</if>> "Here," Ahlf speaks, before Prince Irus can say anything. You look to your father and find that he is holding out a pack. Opening it reveals a set of clothes and a thick, woollen cloak. You frown, your eyes finding your father's. "I don't understand," you say. "Why are you giving me this?" you ask. [[Next.|chp1_17]]

Ahlf turns, looking at you fully. Over the years, you have become accustomed to your father's eyes, so similar to your own. But now, there is an unfamiliar emotion in them, one that almost seems like sorrow. "$name, I thought there would be more time, but I was wrong. The King is dead and now, Prince Irus is in exile," Ahlf sighs. You glance at Prince Irus, this man your father speaks about as if he knows him so well. But how can this be possible? You know that your father has had a past with the Blood Guard, but all these years, he has lived a life of a simple fisherman. How does he know Prince Irus? Why is is he even hiding the Prince? "I don't understand," you hiss. "Why is he here? Why have you packed me clothes?" "Salt Bay is not safe anymore," Ahlf replies. "The Blood Guard are after Prince Irus. They are under the orders of Virion. They-" His voice is cut off, as the sound of heavy footsteps breaks through the silence of the shore. Your eyes search the path that your father had guided you down and to your horror, you notice the flickering glows of lanterns. "There is no time," Ahlf barks. "Go with Prince Irus, you will need each other if you wish to survive." "I've found the Prince!" comes a yell. [[Next.|chp1_18]]

"Go," your father yells, shoving you towards Prince Irus. You stumble, barely managing to keep your footing as the first Blood Guardsman steps into the sight. Prince Irus grunts, before he reaches out and grips your shoulder, pulling you away from your father. The first Blood Guardsman spots your father and then, notices as Prince Irus tries to pull you further into the foliage. "Traitorous bastard," the Guardsman spits at Ahlf. "You will pay for this." Your father does not protest. Realisation dawns on you. He means to sacrifice himself for you and Prince Irus to escape. <<set $fatherHelp to false>> [[You push away Prince Irus' hold on you and run to your father's aid.|chp1_19][$fatherHelp to true, $passive -+5, $aggressive +=5]] [[You turn away, accepting your father's sacrifice for your escape.|chp1_19][$passive +=5, $aggressive -=5]]

<<if $fatherHelp is true>> You push away Prince Irus' hold on you and run to your father's aid. Your heart thunders beneath your chest and you race to where your father stands. The Blood Guardsman notices you first, and grins widely when he sees you. There is a deep scar along the bridge of his nose and his eyes are filled with callousness. "Is this the Ishari child you hid all those years ago?" the Guardsman mocks. "Good, you will watch $MChim die first." "You will not touch $MChim, Morden" Ahlf growls. Your father's defiance seems to take the Guardsman, Morden by surprise. But instead of charging at you, Morden laughs. It is a low sound, full of mirth. "How foolish," Morden taunts. "You threw your life away for an Ishari bitch and now you're going to lose it for her $heir." Ahlf steps closer to you, his gaze never wavering from Morden. "You're wrong, $MChe is my $heir too." Morden's expression darkens instantly. He raises his sword and charges towards Ahlf. It happens faster than you can understand. Your father pushes you away, not caring that he turns his back to Morden. Not caring that you will watch him die. You reach out for your father, just as a strong grip yanks you back. You gasp as Prince Irus drags you out of reach from your father. His hold is firm, his fingers digging into your arm as he hoists you up. Belatedly, you realise that you are on a horse. When did Prince Irus get a horse? Prince Irus digs his heels into the horse's flank. The beast lets out a whinny before charging away just as Morden's blade stabs through your father's heart. Ahlf's eyes find yours, the light in them extinguished in seconds. [["I am sorry Papa," you whisper.|chp1_20]] [["I am sorry Ahlf," you breathe.|chp1_20]] [["I am sorry for not saving you," you murmur.|chp1_20]] [["Curse you for your foolishness," you hiss, biting back your emotions.|chp1_20]] [["Your sacrifice will not be in vain," you state in determination.|chp1_20]] [[You say nothing, your eyes focussed on the man that was your father.|chp1_20]] <<elseif $fatherHelp is false>> You turn away, accepting your father's sacrifice for your escape. It must be done, you know it. Prince Irus pulls you deeper into the foliage where he had been hidden earlier. Prince Irus clicks his tongue and you watch in astonishment as a magnificent steed steps out from behind the leaves. The beast is large, clearly bred with long journeys in mind. Prince Irus grabs your pack from your hands and secures it to his horse. A sudden voice, low and menacing draws your attention to where your father still stands. A Blood Guardsman, bearing a thick scar across his nose rounds in on your father. You do not have time to watch further, when Prince Irus pull you back. You let out a sharp breath as he hoists you onto the horse, before swinging onto the same saddle, behind you. He flicks the reigns and without warning, the steed thunders through the shore. You turn, craning your next to catch a glimpse of your father. Perhaps it is the cruelty of your fate, for it is the very moment you watch the Blood Guardsman stab your father through his chest. Your father slumps down. He is dead. Your father is dead, all to save you and Prince Irus. The scarred Guardsman responsible for your father's death looks up then. He notices your gaze and he grins. You turn away, your heart thudding loudly. [["I am sorry Papa," you whisper.|chp1_20]] [["I am sorry Ahlf," you breathe.|chp1_20]] [["I am sorry for not saving you," you murmur.|chp1_20]] [["Curse you for your foolishness," you hiss, biting back your emotions.|chp1_20]] [["Your sacrifice will not be in vain," you state in determination.|chp1_20]] [[You say nothing, your eyes focussed on the man that was your father.|chp1_20]] <</if>>

<<set $location to "Somewhere in Cyre.">> <div class="timeline">Somewhere in Cyre</div> You have been riding for hours. The stars slowly blink out of existence as dawn claims the night. Everything hurts. Your thighs are chafing in the saddle you share with Prince Irus. It is too small to fit two people comfortably, but without another horse, you are forced to travel like this. The ride has been endless, with no destination in sight. You are too exhausted to speak and the wind which slaps your face, also steals your voice in its grasp. Your mind is plagued by your father's death. He is dead. Gone, like Mama. Now, you are truly alone. Alone, with an exiled prince. [[Next.|chp1_21]]

Prince Irus does not talk to you, while you ride. He is seated behind you, his fingers gripping the reigns in both hands. You have both travelled through the night. The Blood Guard tried to follow you, but you soon discovered that Prince Irus' steed could outrun any horse the Blood Guard owned. The journey has been ardous and long. You are uncertain of your destination, though you know that you cannot return to Salt Bay. If you did, the Blood Guard would surely have you killed, just like your father. As you ride, the shores give way to dense thickets. The familiar scent of the salty sea is gone now, a distant memory of a life that no longer belongs to you. The realisation comes suddenly. The life you had will never be the same again. [[It fills you with trepidation, for fear of your future.|chp1_22]] [[It fills you with nervous excitement, looking forward to your future in spite of everything.|chp1_22]] [[You look forward to what comes with eagerness.|chp1_22]] [[You dread your future and all that may come.|chp1_22]] [[You feel nothing, numb to what may come your way.|chp1_22]]

Despite how you feel about your new life, one thing is clear. You are stuck with Prince Irus until you can come up with a plan of your own. [[Next.|chp1_23]]

It takes you a moment to realise that your ride across the ground has come to a slowing halt. You blink. Fatigue tugs at your limbs and your head feels heavy on your shoulders. Prince Irus nudges his steed towards the thicket. A small stream flows nearby. With the cover of the trees, it will be hard for anyone who is after you to see you easily. Prince Irus swings down from the saddle. He moves with effortless grace, one that comes from years of riding. In the early light of dawn, you can make out his features far better. His hair is a mess of blond curls, sitting just below his ears. A light stubble lines his jawline, making him look less princely and more rugged. He is //handsome//, there is no doubt about it. <<set $IrusLooks to 0>> [[You think that he is attractive, and you are equally taken aback by his appearance.|chp1_24][$IrusLooks +=1]] [[You think he is attractive, but it does not affect you.|chp1_24][$IrusLooks +=2]] [[You think he looks haughty, not attractive.|chp1_24][$IrusLooks +=3]] [[You think that he looks haughty, though a shiver runs through you.|chp1_24][$IrusLooks +=4]] [[You do not care for his appearance.|chp1_24][$IrusLooks +=5]]

<<if $IrusLooks is 1>> You think that he is attractive, and you are equally taken aback by his appearance. He is magnificent to look at, all broad-shouldered and tall. Perhaps it is his upbringing as a prince that must have given him smooth skin and enough grace to make every passer-by swoon. You feel your breath leave you as you examine Prince Irus. He is handsome and you are very much affected by his looks. <<elseif $IrusLooks is 2>> You think he is attractive, but it does not affect you. Prince Irus is a fine man to look at, with broad shoulders and enough height that it would command attention in a crowded room. Perhaps his upbringing as a prince gave him the luxuruy of having smooth skin and grace, but it does not leave you swooning over him like a lovesick passer-by. <<elseif $IrusLooks is 3>> You think he looks haughty, not attractive. He is tall and broad-shouldered, but the smooth skin and grace that he wields only makes him appear haughty in the way only nobles can be. There is nothing attractive about a spoilt prince and it certainly has no affect on you. <<elseif $IrusLooks is 4>> You think that he looks haughty, though a shiver runs through you. He is tall enough that you would notice him anywhere in a crowded room and the broad shoulders certainly makes him look strong. But, the smooth skin and grace he wields makes him appear haughty, the way only nobles can be. He is undoubtedly a spoilt prince. Even so, a shiver of something unfamiliar runs down your spine as you examine him. <<elseif $IrusLooks is 5>> You do not care for his appearance. Prince Irus may be attractive by the standards of most, with his broad shoulders and impressive height. However, it does not affect you. His looks mean nothing to you, and you turn away from examining him any further. <</if>> Prince Irus watches you, a look of scrutiny in his gaze. Without speaking, he raises a hand to you. You stare at his gloved hand. He is offering to help you down from the saddle. <<set $chp1_saddle to false>> [[You accept his proffered hand.|chp1_25][$chp1_saddle to true]] [[You do not accept his proffered hand and slide from the saddle on your own.|chp1_25]]

<<if $chp1_saddle is true>> You grip his gloved hand as you slide off from the saddle. Prince Irus' grip is tight, a secure hold that you know will not waver. Despite the leather glove that protects his skin, you feel the warmth seep from his palm. He keeps hold of your hand until you find your footing, nodding when you are steady once more. <<else>> You ignore Prince Irus' outstretched palm. When he realises that you will not accept his aid, he sighs and lets his hand drop to his side. You swing your leg over the saddle and step onto the ground. For a moment, you are unsteady on your feet. Prince Irus watches you with a raised eyebrow, almost as if expecting you to fall. When you don't, he merely shrugs. <</if>> "We should rest here," Prince Irus says after a while. His voice is deep, a jarring sound against the silence of your surroundings. You have no time to respond, as Prince Irus moves towards the saddlebags and begins rummaging through them. You sigh. The weariness from your ride has left you aching and tired. You are still wearing your night shirt, barely appropriate attire for such a journey. Your questions for Irus can wait. You gather the pack your father handed to you last night and make your way to the stream. [[Next.|chp1_26]]

The stream gurgles as it trickles across the rocks. You dip your hands into the cool water and bring it to your face. Washing away the grime and sweat that has gathered across your skin, you know that you will have to put off a proper wash until later. Once you have cleaned off as much of the dirt you can, you turn your attention to the pack your father gave you. The memory of your father's death is still fresh in your mind. During the ride, you have not had much time to process everything that has happened. Now, with only the stream to witness your feelings, you... <<set $grief_chp1 to 0>> [[...weep, grieving your father's death and sacrifice.|chp1_27][$grief_chp1 +=1]] [[...cry out in anger, hating that your father was slain.|chp1_27][$grief_chp1 +=2]] [[...remain silent, not knowing how to truly feel about your father's passing.|chp1_27][$grief_chp1 +=3]] [[...feel relieved, for your father was not a good one.|chp1_27][$grief_chp1 +=4]]

<<if $grief_chp1 is 1>> You weep, grieving your father's death and sacrifice. He was killed in front of you, a cruel fate to have suffered to save you and Prince Irus from the Blood Guard. Tears sting your eyes and your vision grows blurry as you mourn your father's death. The trickling stream masks the sound of your sobs. Your throat constricts and your lips taste salty, with tears. Your father is dead. He died to save you. It is a cruel fate, to be without a mother and now, without a father. <<elseif $grief_chp1 is 2>> You cry out in anger, hating that your father was slain. Frustration builds and you find your teeth grinding in fury. The Blood Guard had no mercy when they slew your father. He had only wanted to protect you, to save you from the same fate. And now, he is dead. The trickling stream barely masks your shout of anger, the rage and wild emotions spilling out from your lips. It is unfair that your mother is gone and now, your father is dead. <<elseif $grief_chp1 is 3>> You remain silent, not knowing how to truly feel about your father's passing. The silence is only broken by the trickling stream that flows past you. Your relationship with your father was complicated. And yet, he still sacrificed himself to save you. It is a sad twist of fate that your mother left, and now, your father is dead. The emotions render you unsure of how to deal with your father's death. <<elseif $grief_chp1 is 4>> You dip your fingers in the stream, feeling the water brush against your skin. It is cool and seems to clear your mind. Your father was not the kindest man, nor was he the most considerate. At times, his presence had been stifling and other moments had left you wanting more than just his gruff exterior. How do you mourn a parent that was never truly your parent? Perhaps you should feel guilty, for feeling relief instead of sadness about your father's death, but you cannot help but feel as if a weight has been lifted off of your chest. <</if>> [[Next.|chp1_28]]

Knowing that you cannot spend any longer thinking over your father's death, you splash your face once more and begin to search the pack your father gave you. You pull out a fresh set of clothes, woollen and sturdy. Hastily, you remove your night shirt and quickly dress. While your clothes are not the finest, they do leave you feeling more alive than when you fled Salt Bay. Rummaging through the pack, your fingers grasp something hard. You frown, before pulling at the object. A wooden box, jade and chipped, slips out from the pack. You stare at it. It is the same box you found hidden all those years ago. The box filled with secret letters. Now, it is in your hands. You remember the anger your father had when he found you reading the hidden letters, the way he snatched the box from you as if you had discovered something you never should have known. Yet, the box was packed away by the very same man. You unlatch the box, opening it. Within the box, there are numerous letters. But, the only one that garners your attention is a neatly pressed paper, with long, scrawling writing. Your eyes find your name atop the page and you realise that it is addressed to you. [[Next.|chp1_29]]

//Osk, 544. $name, I am sorry for not explaining everything to you sooner. I foolishly thought that keeping you away from the madness that has befallen Cyre would protect you from the Blood Guard. Your mother made me promise to keep you safe and I fear that I have failed her terribly. King Erlan was a friend once, he entrusted me with protecting his only child, Prince Irus. When the King discovered my treachery, my relationship with your mother, he all but had me killed. Perhaps it was an act of mercy when he stripped me of all that I possessed and cast me off as traitor. For a time, after your mother left you with me, I thought that I could be a father to you. But it was hard, $name. You are more your mother's $heir than you ever were mine. Watching you grow, knowing that one day, you might have to face the Blood Guard was a worrying thought. The blood in you belongs to the Ishari people, your mother made certain of that. It is why you must leave. Prince Irus is not safe. King Erlan died before news of Prince Irus could reach the rest of the kingdom. Virion, King Erlan's brother will seek to destroy Prince Irus. Already, Cyre is fractured by the absence of the King. Erlan was a fool, but I will make things right. Keep Prince Irus safe, for I fear he will be the only one to guide Cyre to a better future. Do not trust anyone else. -Ahlf.// [[Next.|chp1_30]]

Your fingers tighten around the edges of the letter. All these years, your father has kept many things from you. His past, his connection to King Erlan and now, he wants you to keep Prince Irus safe? You, a fisherman's $heir, must safeguard a man you barely know? [[You swallow thickly, for your father entrusted you with this duty.|chp1_31]] [[Your breathing hitches, knowing that your father died so that you could continue on, protecting Prince Irus.|chp1_31]] [[You tremble with rage, loathing the burden your father placed on you.|chp1_31]] [[You tighten your grip, determined to fufil your father's task.|chp1_31]]

You fold the letter and stuff it back into the jade box. Your father's intent was clear. //Protect Prince Irus.// Your gaze returns to the Prince. He is brushing down his steed, his expression guarded. You know nearly nothing about this man, you're meant to be keeping safe. If he is King Erlan's son, why is he fleeing? The only way to get answers is to ask the Prince directly. With your mind made up, you approach Prince Irus. [[Next.|chp1_32]]

Prince Irus barely looks up from where he brushes his horse when you approach him. His eyes are hard, you note and there is a tense silence about him. He is remarkably closed off, for someone you have travelled with for hours. "We need to talk," you say, breaking the silence. Prince Irus looks up, lazily glancing at you. "Must we?" he asks. There is irritation in his tone, perhaps from fatigue or perhaps from disdain. Regardless of where it stems from, it is evident that he has no qualms at directing his frustration at you. "If we are meant to travel together then we need to be able to discuss what's to happen next," you reply. Prince Irus sighs, before he fixes you with a frown. "Very well, you want to speak, so speak," he mutters. [[Next.|chp1_33]]

There are a thousand questions that you want to ask, but you know that you must remain focussed. Your father wanted you to protect Prince Irus and you need to know why. <<linkreplace "You question Prince Irus about his heritage." t8n>>"You're King Erlan's son?" you ask. Prince Irus scowls, turning away from you gaze. When he responds, his voice is hard. "Yes. For all the good it did me." "Why didn't anyone know about you?" you ask. Prince Irus turns to glare at you, as if you've offended him greatly. "Perhaps because my father did not want to risk my life by letting every fool know of my existence," he retorts. You frown at his tone. There is clearly more to it than Prince Irus is willing to share.<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You ask him why he is fleeing." t8n>>"Why are you fleeing?" you ask. Prince Irus shoulders sag. There is a vulnerability in his gaze that reminds you of the time when you fled Ishari. A look of sorrow and and loneliness. "It is not safe for me in Cyre," he answers. "My uncle, Virion has exiled me from the kingdom. He gave me seven days after my father's death to leave." Prince Irus' jaw clenches. "He did not honour the deal, and now the Blood Guard are out to bring back my head."<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You ask him why he is exiled." t8n>>"Why have you been exiled?" you question. Prince Irus lets out a huff, anger filling his eyes. "Virion is a coward," Prince Irus spits. "My father was going to make me the next king. I was going to take over the throne. Virion could not stand the idea, so after my father's death, he gathered his supporters and made himself the next leader." "But why exile you?" you ask. "Despite what Virion had hoped for, not everyone wants him as king," Prince Irus grunts. He scowls, looking away.<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You ask Prince Irus why he came to your father." t8n>>"Why did you come to Salt Bay? Why seek out Ahlf?" you demand. "Ahlf was a good man," Prince Irus replies. "When my father lay on his deathbed, he told to me to seek out your father if something went wrong." You think back to the letter your father addressed to you. Ahlf admitted that he was friends with King Erlan once. Was that the reason why Prince Irus was told to seek him out? "I don't understand," you say. "How did you know my father?" Prince Irus looks as you as if you're a fool. "Your father was my appointed guardian when I was younger. He kept the title, even after he left the Blood Guard."<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You ask him where you're supposed to go next." t8n>>"What now? We're on the run, where are we supposed to go next?" you ask. Prince Irus runs a hand through his hair. There is a tiredness in his expression, one that seems to go down into his bones. When he looks up at you, his blue gaze is weary. "We need to go to the Kingdom of Vinia," he replies. "It is the only place that my uncle cannot send the Blood Guard after me."<</linkreplace>> [[End your questions.|chp1_34][$virion_portrait to true]]

With your most plaguing questions answered, you watch as Prince Irus returns to brushing his steed. It is a large stallion, with powerful muscles. Prince Irus casts you a look, noticing your examination of the dark horse. "His name is Crown," Prince Irus explains, almost sheepishly. You make a face. It isn't the most imaginative name and by the way Prince Irus looks away from your pointed stare, he thinks so too. "I was a child when I named him," he huffs. "Besides, it's a fitting name for a prince's steed." <<set $horseName_chp1 to 0>> [["I didn't say it wasn't," you say, genuinely.|chp1_35][$horseName_chp1 +=1, $irusRel +=2]] [["I didn't say it wasn't," you tease lightly.|chp1_35][$horseName_chp1 +=2, $irusRel +=2]] [["I didn't say it wasn't," you respond, indifferent to the horse's name.|chp1_35][$horseName_chp1 +=3, $irusRel +=2]] [["It's an awful name," you mutter, rolling your eyes.|chp1_35][$horseName_chp1 +=4, $irusRel -=2]] [["It's a bad name," you reply. "But like you said, you were a child."|chp1_35][$horseName_chp1 +=5, $irusRel +=2]]

<<if $horseName_chp1 is 1>> "I didn't say it wasn't," you say, genuinely. Prince Irus looks surprised by your reply and for a second, the corners of his lips tug into a smile. The reaction is strange. Did he expect you to belittle him for the name of his horse? Not for the first time, you wonder who Prince Irus is and what his past entailed. "Thanks," Prince Irus responds, avoiding your gaze. "He's been a loyal friend for a long time." There is warmth in Prince Irus' voice when he speaks, his eyes on Crown. The stallion snorts, a hot exhale of air. Prince Irus' smile widens and he reaches out to stroke Crown's mane. You have never owned a horse before, but even you can admit that there is a bond between the steed and the Prince. <<elseif $horseName_chp1 is 2>> "I didn't say it wasn't," you tease lightly. An unbidden sound which sounds almost like a laugh escapes Prince Irus. He strokes Crown's mane, his gloved fingers gentle. As you watch Prince Irus's expression soften, his guarded defences dropping, you wonder if he expected you to belittle him? Not for the first time, you wonder who Prince Irus is and what his past entailed. "I'll admit, there are far better names for him," Prince Irus replies. "Still, he's stuck with me as a loyal friend." There is warmth in Prince Irus' voice when he speaks, his eyes on Crown. The stallion snorts, a hot exhale of air. Prince Irus' smile widens and he reaches out to stroke Crown's mane. You have never owned a horse before, but even you can admit that there is a bond between the steed and the Prince. <<elseif $horseName_chp1 is 3>> "I didn't say it wasn't," you respond, indifferent to the horse's name. Prince Irus stares at you, as if undecided if you are speaking the truth or not. When you say nothing more, Prince Irus lets out a breath as his shoulders sag. Had he expected you to belittle the name of his horse? Not for the first time, you wonder who exactly Prince Irus is and what his past entailed. "Most people aren't as understanding as you," he says, gazing at Crown. "He's been my loyal friend for a long time, regardless of his name." There is warmth in Prince Irus' voice when he speaks, his eyes on Crown. The stallion snorts, a hot exhale of air. Prince Irus' smile widens and he reaches out to stroke Crown's mane. You have never owned a horse before, but even you can admit that there is a bond between the steed and the Prince. <<elseif $horseName_chp1 is 4>> "It's an awful name," you mutter, rolling your eyes. Prince Irus' lips pull into a scowl at your response. When you look at him, you find that his shoulders are tense and his guarded expression has returned. What did he expect? The name is awful, even if he did name the steed when he was a child. Prince Irus' clenches his jaw, his hands reaching for Crown as if searching for comfort. You wonder if others have belittled him before? "It doesn't matter what you think," Prince Irus snaps. "Crown has been my loyal friend for years." There is a hardness in Prince Irus' voice when he speaks, his eyes on you. The stallion snorts, a hot exhale of air. It draws Prince Irus' attention and he reaches out to stroke Crown's mane. You have never owned a horse before, but even you can admit that there is a bond between the steed and the Prince. <<elseif $horseName_chp1 is 5>> "It's a bad name," you reply. "But like you said, you were a child. Prince Irus lets out a breath, before he nods. The guarded look in his gaze falls and his shoulders relax, slightly. Did he expect you to belittle him for what he named his horse as a child? Not for the first time, you wonder who Prince Irus is and exactly what his past entailed. "Yes, I was a child," Prince Irus replies. "And Crown has been my loyal friend since then." There is warmth in Prince Irus' voice when he speaks, his eyes on Crown. The stallion snorts, a hot exhale of air. Prince Irus' smile widens and he reaches out to stroke Crown's mane. You have never owned a horse before, but even you can admit that there is a bond between the steed and the Prince. <</if>> [[Next.|chp1_36]]

Prince Irus turns to look at you once more. His expression is almost regretful, and you understand why when he speaks. "I am sorry about your father," he breathes. "He didn't deserve what happened." <<if $grief_chp1 is 1>> The tears you spilt earlier at the stream, come flooding back and you are left feeling breathless. Blinking, you turn away from Prince Irus, hoping that he did not see the unshed tears in your eyes. "Thank you," is all you manage. <<elseif $grief_chp1 is 2>> The frustration of your father's death comes flooding back and all you want to do is scream at the injustice. Your hands curl into fists at your sides, your nails digging hard into your palm. "No, he didn't deserve it," you manage through gritted teeth. <<elseif $grief_chp1 is 3>> You grow stiff, your uncertainty about how to feel catching up to you. Looking away from Prince Irus' you stare at the trees, the stream, anything but Prince Irus. How do you respond when you barely know how to feel yourself? You manage a stiff nod, hoping that Prince Irus understands. <</if>> But you are not the only one to have lost a father. Your eyes return to Prince Irus, and you note the sorrow in his gaze. King Erlan was his father, and no matter the relationship between them, you know that it must affect the Prince. <<set $chp1_36_death to 0>> [["I am sorry too," you murmur. "You also lost a father."|chp1_37][$chp1_36_death +=1, $irusRel +=2]] [["You are grieving too," you note.|chp1_37][$chp1_36_death +=2, $irusRel +=2]] [["At least your father wasn't slain in front of you," you mutter.|chp1_37][$chp1_36_death +=3, $irusRel -=2]]

<<if $chp1_36_death is 1>> "I am sorry too," you murmur. "You also lost a father." Prince Irus nods, his eyes shifting back onto Crown. Silence weighs down heavily between the both of you. You begin to think that perhaps, Prince Irus will not respond when he turns to look at you fully. His eyes are clouded and there is raw grief in his gaze. "It is difficult to believe that he is really gone," Prince Irus mumbles. "Sometimes, I think that I am going to wake up and discover that it was all just a nightmare." You know what he means. Losing Ahlf, no matter how complicated, seems as if it is a distant memory. You've been fleeing for hours and the only moment you've had to process his loss lasted only a few minutes. Maybe Prince Irus is right and when you awaken tomorrow, it will all have just been a nightmare. <<elseif $chp1_36_death is 2>> "You are grieving too," you note. Prince Irus hums in agreement, not meeting your eyes. He brushes Crown's mane, his eyes focussed on the task at hand. A quiet silence weighs down on you both and you begin to think that Prince Irus will not respond, when he proves you wrong and looks at you. "I know that the entire kingdom grieves for my father," Prince Irus sighs, "yet, it feels like a lie. He was my father. It is difficult to think that anyone else could understand his loss better than his own family." You understand what he means. King Erlan was mourned by many, even in Salt Bay. None of you knew the King, perhaps with your father being the exception. But it is Prince Irus who has lost more than just a king. He has lost his father, much like yourself. <<elseif $chp1_36_death is 3>> "At least your father wasn't slain in front of you," you mutter. Prince Irus frowns, his eyebrows furrowing at your words. You expect him to lash out at you, to tell you that you are wrong and that losing a king is a far greater loss than losing Ahlf. But, Prince Irus remains quiet. A tense silence falls between the both of you and just when you're beginning to think that Prince Irus won't reply, he proves you wrong. "My father was not slain," he hisses, "but I watched him die, just like you watched Ahlf die. It doesn't matter how the death happens, because the end result is the same. My father is gone, just like yours." His voice is hoarse, as if he's holding back a yell. He is right, there is no competition in death. The consequence is the same. Yet, your father was killed while trying to save you and Prince Irus. There is no competition in death, but not all men die equal. <</if>> [[Next.|chp1_38]]

As you think about your father's demise, you think back to the Blood Guardsman who slew him. <<if $fatherHelp is true>> Your father called him //Morden//. He seemed to know about you, about your father's relationship with your mother. Who was he and why did he kill your father? All your life, you have been kept away from the Blood Guard, for fear that they will kill you for your Ishari heritage. You do not know who Morden is, but perhaps Prince Irus does? "Who is Morden?" you ask. "I watched him kill my father." Prince Irus stiffens, the first signs of fear lining his features. "Morden was appointed General of the Blood Guard by my uncle," he replies. "He is a ruthless man, $name. He will cut down innocents in the name of his duty. My uncle tasked him with killing me." "He knows me," you breathe. Prince Irus looks at you with a look of worry. "Morden is like a bloodhound. Let us hope that he does not find us." <<elseif $fatherHelp is false>> The man who killed your father so brutally had a scarred face. He looked up at you and smiled, a chilling expression for a monstrous man like him. You do not know who the man is or why he slew your father the way that he did, only that he now knows your face. All your life, you have been kept away from the Blood Guard, for fear that they will kill you for your Ishari heritage. You do not know who the scarred man is, but perhaps Prince Irus does? "Who is the scarred Blood Guardsman?" you ask. "The one who killed my father." Prince Irus stiffens, the first signs of fear lining his features. "His name is Morden. He was appointed General of the Blood Guard by my uncle," he replies. "He is a ruthless man, $name. He will cut down innocents in the name of his duty. My uncle tasked him with killing me." "He looked up at me," you breathe. "He looked right at me and smiled when he killed my father." Prince Irus looks at you with a look of worry. "Morden is like a bloodhound. Let us hope that he does not find us." <</if>> [[Next.|chp1_39]]

With that sobering thought, the both of you continue on in silence. Prince Irus goes through his own packs and pulls out rations of dried dates and hard bread. He glances at you before offering you the meagre meal. You eat in silence, your eyes scanning your surroundings. If Prince Irus spoke the truth then it means that Morden will be tracking you as you rest. The idea that the Blood Guardsman will find you sooner rather than later, leaves you feeling restless and paranoid. Perhaps it is your hypervigilance that eventually alerts you that neither you nor Prince Irus is alone. It is a feeling on the back of your neck, one that leaves you staring at the thicket of trees behind Prince Irus even while the Prince seems undaunted. //There.// A gleam of metal. You see the dagger, before you see the hand to which it belongs. It comes, streaking out of the trees and you realise that it is aimed at Prince Irus. The Prince who chews his dates and stares at Crown as if there is nothing amiss. <<set $chp1_39 to 0>><<set $IrusInjury_chp1 to false>><<set $MCInjury_chp1 to false>> [[You call out a warning to Prince Irus.|chp1_40][$chp1_39 +=1, $passive +=5, $aggressive -=5]] [[You tackle Prince Irus to the ground, to protect him.|chp1_40][$chp1_39 +=2, $passive -=5, $aggressive +=5]] [[You jump in between Prince Irus and the dagger.|chp1_40][$chp1_39 +=3, $MCInjury_chp1 to true, $passive -=5, $aggressive +=5]] [[You duck down, protecting yourself.|chp1_40][$chp1_39 +=4, $IrusInjury_chp1 to true, $passive +=5, $aggressive -=5]]

<<if $chp1_39 is 1>> "Behind you," you shout. Prince Irus startles, his eyes widening at your voice. //He's not going to make it.// The blade is fast and your warning was too slow. You stare up at Prince Irus, your heart hammering in your chest. The world around you slows. It is just you and your sharp breaths. The blade glimmers in the sunlight. It is enough to kill a man. Yet, Prince Irus notices it too. Just when you think he'll be stabbed, Prince Irus twists away from the blade. It narrowly misses his neck, falling somewhere on the ground. <<elseif $chp1_39 is 2>> There is no time to explain what is happening. The dagger is aimed at his neck and you know that in a matter of seconds, Prince Irus will be dead. Your heart thuds loudly in your chest as you leap towards Prince Irus. "What are-" Prince Irus' voice is swallowed by a grunt, followed by your fall against the ground. Above you, the air whistles as the dagger soars uselessly in the air, missing Prince Irus' neck. It falls, landing somewhere on the ground. <<elseif $chp1_39 is 3>> The dagger is moving too fast. You know that you must protect Prince Irus, or he'll die. Without thinking, you shove Prince Irus behind you. He lets out a shout, but you do not listen. The blade, intended for Prince Irus' neck, now comes sailing towards you. You let out a pained grunt as the blade grazes against your arm. It has drawn blood, but the wound is not deep. You clutch at your arm, as the dagger falls uselessly onto the ground. The blade is now stained with your blood. <<elseif $chp1_39 is 4>> You move instinctively. You do not think. With your breathing ragged and your heart hammering under your chest, you duck low to the ground. Prince Irus frowns at you, and you see the blade glimmering in the sunlight. It streaks towards his neck. //He's going to die.// Perhaps it is luck or your act of self-preservation, but Prince Irus seems to sense the blade. He twists out of the way. The blade misses its target. But Prince Irus is not fast enough to escape harm, as the blade cuts into his shoulder. Prince Irus lets out a grunt, pulling the blade free and throwing it to the ground. It is stained with his blood. <</if>> [[Next.|chp1_41]]

Without the element of surprise, the wielder of the dagger steps out of the thickets. It's a man, perhaps no older than twenty but any sign of youth is marred by the cruelty in his gaze. He wears a heavy cape, obscuring his armour beneath. But you've seen enough. He is a Blood Guardsman, and where there is one, there will be many to follow. You scan the thicket, but see no other movement. The Blood Guardsman is alone, for now. "King Virion sends his regards," the Guardsman spits, as he pulls out another dagger from beneath his cape. You and Prince Irus are effectively weaponless. Crown whinnies, tugging at the tree where he is tethered. There is not enough time to get to your packs, not enough time to think clearly. Blood rushes past your ears and your palms grow clammy. Then, your eyes fall onto the dagger on the ground. <<set $chp1_dagger to false>> [[You grab the dagger and raise it up in defence.|chp1_42][$chp1_dagger to true]] [[You grab the dagger and toss it to Prince Irus.|chp1_42]]

<<if $chp1_dagger is true>> You grab the dagger, feeling its weight in your grip. The blade is no bigger than the knives your father used to gut fish. Yet, you know that is much sharper. You hold it up, against the Blood Guardsman. Your nerves makes it hard to focus on anything but the enemy who stands before you. <<if $MCInjury_chp1 is true>> Your arm still hurts from earlier and blood stains your sleeve. <</if>> Without any formal training, you only hope that you will be able to protect yourself. The Blood Guardsman stares at you, before he lets out a bark of laugh. "So this is who is protecting you, Prince Irus?" the Blood Guardsman taunts. "A half-breed Ishari? How far you have fallen. I will relish in killing you both." Prince Irus glowers and when he speaks, his voice is thunderous. "You overestimate your skills," Prince Irus spits. "There are two of us and only one of you." "Enough talking," the Guardsman growls. It is all the warning you get before he comes charging towards you, his dagger raised. [[Next.|chp1_42a]] <<else>> You pick the dagger, before tossing it towards Prince Irus. He catches the blade easily, and wraps his fingers around the wooden handle. Testing the weight in his hand, Prince Irus nods, satisfied. It is clear that the Prince has had some formal training with weapons and you're hopeful that it will be enough to protect you both. <<if $IrusInjury_chp1 is true>> Despite the wound to his shoulder, Prince Irus' grip does not waver, even with a dark stain growing against his shirt. <</if>> "So this is who travels with you, Prince Irus?" the Blood Guardsman taunts. "A half-breed Ishari? How far you have fallen. I will relish in killing you both." Prince Irus glowers and when he speaks, his voice is thunderous. "You overestimate your skills," Prince Irus spits. "There are two of us and only one of you." "Enough talking," the Guardsman growls. It is all the warning you get before he comes charging towards Prince Irus, his dagger raised. [[Next.|chp1_42b]] <</if>>

There is a frenetic look in the Guardsman's eyes. He charges towards you. moving faster than you can comprehend. The dagger feels heavy in your hold. Your breaths come out in sharp pants. The Guardsman aims his dagger at your face. <<set $chp1_42reac to 0>> [[You jump back.|chp1_42a1][$chp1_42reac +=1]] [[You duck down and slash at his legs.|chp1_42a1][$chp1_42reac +=2]] [[You dodge the attack and swing your dagger towards the Guardsman's neck.|chp1_42a1][$chp1_42reac +=3]]

There is a frenetic look in the Guardsman's eyes. He charges towards Prince Irus, moving faster than you can comprehend. Prince Irus does not cower in the face of the Guardsman. Instead, he shifts in front of you, effectively keeping you out of sight from the Blood Guardsman. Prince Irus and the Guardsman lunge at each other, nothing but a blur of steel. There is a viciousness in the way that the Guardsman moves, his thrusts are sharp and quick. Prince Irus lets out a grunt, stepping back just at the Guardsman's dagger misses Prince Irus' thigh. The Guardsman follows after Prince Irus, like a hound following the scent of death. Prince Irus is panting. His hair clings to his forehead. He is tired.<<if $IrusInjury_chp1 is true>>And the wound in his shoulder is not helping.<</if>> The Guardsman kicks at Prince Irus' knees, causing the him to falter. The Prince falls, stumbling to the ground. Leering, the Guardsman approaches Prince Irus with his dagger poised to strike. There is no time to think. You need to do something. <<set $chp1_42b to 0>> [[You grab a handful of sand and throw it at the Guardsman's eyes.|chp1_42b1][$chp1_42b +=1]] [[You swing a fist towards the Guardsman's face.|chp1_42b1][$chp1_42b +=2]] [[You lunge towards the Guardsman's back, hoping to tackle him.|chp1_42b1][$chp1_42b +=3]]

<<if $chp1_42reac is 1>> You jump back. The dagger swings by your face and you see the reflection of your eyes in the blade. The Guardsman growls and returns his focus on you. He is fast, faster than you are and by the way he wields his dagger, he is far more skilled. He launches another attack, bringing the dagger to your legs. You dodge in time, but barely. You grip your own dagger tightly, your eyes trained on the Blood Guardsman. He's smiling at you, a wicked gleam in his eyes. He's enjoying this, you realise. Another strike, and you bring up your dagger, deflecting the blow. It takes all of your strength not to collapse. You are tired and your body is running low. Winning this fight is nearly impossible and the longer you spend defending yourself, the higher the chances of the rest of the Blood Guard find you. You glance at Prince Irus. While you defended yourself against the Blood Guardsman, the Prince has moved to your left. Prince Irus' gaze finds yours, before he looks pointedly to the Blood Guardsman. You frown, not understanding him. The distraction is enough. The Guardsman yells, kicking at your feet. You let out a cry, falling onto your back. You raise your daggger to stab at the Guardsman. <<if $MCInjury_chp1 is true>> The Guardsman reaches out for your wounded arm and digs his fingers into the cut. A blinding pain shoots through your arm and you struggle to wrench your arm free. While you struggle, the Guardsman twists your hand, forcing you to drop your dagger. <<elseif $MCInjury_chp1 is false>> The Guardsman reaches out for your hand, gripped around the dagger. He twists at your wrist and a blinding pain shoots up your fingers. Your grip on the dagger loosens, forcing you to drop your dagger. <</if>> Weaponless, you stare up at the Blood Guardsman. He leers at you, a manic expression on his face. You squeeze your eyes shut as he brings the dagger down. The pain does not come. You hear a grunt and when you open your eyes, you are greeted by the unconcsious Guardsman. And he's falling directly towards you. The Guardsman lands on top of you in a heap, his weight crushing. You let out a gasp and struggle to move out from under him. You are rescued when Prince Irus yanks at the Guardsman, rolling him off of you. <<elseif $chp1_42reac is 2>> You duck down and slash at his legs. The Guardsman's dagger swings uselessly above your head, while you aim for his legs. It is not an easy move to accomplish, not when the Guardsman is faster than you. You thrust your hand forward, managing to snag your blade in the Guardsman's cape. All it does is make the Guardsman angrier. You wrench your dagger free from his cape and barely dodge another lunge from him. Your heart races and your breaths come out in ragged pants. It is hard to keep track of the Guardsman's movements, when his skills certainly surpass your own. Another strike, and you bring up your dagger, deflecting the blow. It takes all of your strength not to collapse. You are tired and your body is running low. Winning this fight is nearly impossible and the longer you spend defending yourself, the higher the chances of the rest of the Blood Guard find you. You glance at Prince Irus. While you defended yourself against the Blood Guardsman, the Prince has moved to your left. Prince Irus' gaze finds yours, before he looks pointedly to the Blood Guardsman. You frown, not understanding him. The distraction is enough. The Guardsman lunges at you, bringing his dagger towards your face. You hear it cut through the air, as you barely manage to dodge the strike. Sweat gathers around your brows and the beginnings of exhaustion starts to pull at your limbs. But the Guardsman does not tire. He throws his dagger at you. Your eyes widen and you struggle to move out of the way. The Guardsman does not wait, as he follows the dagger with his raised fists. <<if $MCInjury_chp1 is true>> The Guardsman reaches out for your wounded arm and digs his fingers into the cut. A blinding pain shoots through your arm and you struggle to wrench your arm free. While you struggle, the Guardsman twists your hand, forcing you to drop your dagger. <<elseif $MCInjury_chp1 is false>> The Guardsman strikes your shoulder, before he reaches for your hand, gripped around the dagger. He twists at your wrist and a blinding pain shoots up your fingers. Your grip on the dagger loosens, forcing you to drop it. <</if>> Now, weaponless, you find yourself face-to-face with the manic Blood Guardsman. There is raw hatred in his eyes as he stares at you. His fingers find your neck, squeezing. You struggle to breathe, gasping. It hurts and your chest begins to burn. Dark spots start to mar your vision. There is a dull thud. And then, the Guardsman's grip loosens. You splutter as you can suddenly breathe again. When you look up, you find the Guardsman slumped onto the ground. Prince Irus stands behind him, gripping the Guardsman's fallen dagger. <<elseif $chp1_42reac is 3>> You dodge the attack and swing your dagger towards the Guardsman's neck. It is clear by the way the Guardsman's eyes widen that he was not expecting your attack. He dances out of your reach, and you find yourself standing face-to-face with the Guardsman. By the way he holds his dagger, it is clear that he is far more skilled than you are. The Guardsman catches your gaze and smirks. He's enjoying this, you realise. He lets out a grunt, swinging his dagger at you once more. You spin away, just at the blade brushes uselessly at your sleeve. He nearly got you that time. Another strike and you manage to hit his wrist with the pommel of your dagger. It is enough to elicit a yell from the Guardsman and he draws his hand back. Sweat gathers at the back of your neck and your breathing sounds harsh against your ears. You do not know how much longer you can defend yourself against the Guardsman. You glance at Prince Irus. While you defended yourself against the Blood Guardsman, the Prince has moved to your left. Prince Irus' gaze finds yours, before he looks pointedly to the Blood Guardsman. You frown, not understanding him. The distraction is enough. The Guardsman lunges for you. His dagger comes close to your face, and you see your wide-eyed reflection in the blade. You stumble back, struggling to keep yourself from getting killed. The Guardsman is relentless. He charges after you, his blade gleaming in the sunlight. <<if $MCInjury_chp1 is true>> The Guardsman strikes at your wounded arm and the blade digs into the cut. A blinding pain shoots through your arm and you struggle to wrench free. While you struggle, the Guardsman twists your hand, forcing you to drop your dagger. <<elseif $MCInjury_chp1 is false>> The Guardsman strikes at your arm, before he reaches for your hand, gripped around the dagger. He twists at your wrist and a blinding pain shoots up your fingers. Your grip on the dagger loosens, forcing you to drop it. <</if>> The Guardsman grins at you, his expression wild and deranged. "Not even your Ancient Ones can-" His words are cut off and the Guardsman slumps forward. He hits the ground with a dull thud. You stare at him, confused. When you look up, Prince Irus is standing behind the fallen Guardsman, your fallen dagger in his hand. <</if>> [[Next.|chp1_42a2]]

Prince Irus glances at you, his eyebrows furrowed. "Are you alright?" he asks. [[You nod, too overwhelmed to speak.|chp1_42a3]] [["I am," you mumble.|chp1_42a3]] [[You shrug, unsure how you feel.|chp1_42a3]] [["No I'm not," you reply, trembling.|chp1_42a3]] [["I'm not," you grunt, frustrated.|chp1_42a3]]

Prince Irus glances at the Guardsman. For a moment, you think that he is dead. Then, the Guardsman's chest rises and a low grown escapes his mouth. He is alive. Prince Irus wastes no time as he untethers Crown and climbs into the saddle. You still stare at the Guardsman. The man tried to kill you. <<set $death_choice to 0>> [[You are glad that Prince Irus did not kill him.|chp1_42a4][$death_choice +=1]] [[You wish that Prince Irus killed him.|chp1_42a4][$death_choice +=2]] [[You wish that you had killed him.|chp1_42a4][$death_choice +=3]] [[You do not care about what happens to the Guardsman.|chp1_42a4][$death_choice +=4]]

Your focus on the Guardsman is broken when you hear a low rumble in the distance. Looking up, you scan the horizon. Dark dots line the distance, growing larger with each second. It takes you a moment to realise that it must be the rest of the Blood Guard. Prince Irus yells at you. You look up just as he reaches out and hoists you onto the saddle. You land roughly and let out a breath. Once again, you're seated in front of Prince Irus, sharing a saddle. <<set $chp1_42a_saddle to false>> [[You complain about having to sit in the front.|chp1_42a5][$chp1_42a_saddle to true]] [[You do not mind sitting in the front.|chp1_42a5]]

As you grip the front of the saddle, Prince Irus kicks at Crown's side, urging the steed to move faster. The saddle bumps painfully at your hips and you struggle to hold on. You're certain that if it weren't for Prince Irus' grip on the reigns on either side of you, you certainly would have fallen to your death. <<if $chp1_42a_saddle is true>> "Why do I have to sit in the front?" you shout, over the wind. Prince Irus scoffs, or maybe he is as winded as you. "My apologies," he yells over the sound of Crown's hooves. "Next time, when we're fleeing, remind me to stop and ask what you prefer." <<else>> Seated in the front, you can see the thicket in front of you. The branches and twigs pull at the side of packs, fastened onto Crown. Wind whips at your face, stinging your eyes and making it hard to breathe. <</if>> Prince Irus mutters a curse, as you hear the rumble of the Blood Guard in pursuit of you. [[Next.|chp1_43]]

Your body aches with exhaustion, and your fingers feel numb where they hold onto the saddle. How much longer can you flee, before you're both caught? The ground begins to slope upwards and as it does, the thicket spreads out, leaving you out in the open. Prince Irus mutters a curse under his breath. You can hear shouts behind you and you realise they are gaining upon you. You twist in your seat, straining to catch a glimpse of the Blood Guard. There are at least ten of them on horseback. You shudder. You and Prince Irus could barely take down one of the Guardsmen. If you are caught now, you'll both be dead within minutes. You return your gaze onto the greenery in front of you. Crown gallops, his breaths coming out fast, but you know that even the Prince's steed cannot keep up his pace forever. "Duck," Prince Irus hisses. <<set $chp1_44 to false>> [[You duck down.|chp1_44][$chp1_44 to true]] [[You look for the source of Prince Irus' panic.|chp1_44]]

<<if $chp1_42b is 1>> Reaching down, you grab a handful of loose sand and hurl it towards the Guardsman's eyes. The sand finds its mark, causing the Guardsman to cry out. He clutches at his eyes, struggling to keep his vision in tact. He waves his dagger in front of him and you dart back, in time to avoid being stabbed. Prince Irus uses the distraction to stand. His breathing is hard and ragged. But he pursues the Guardsman, his own dagger clutched tightly in his grip. This time, it is the Blood Guardsman who stumble and tires. Prince Irus thrusts his dagger, in a flash of metal and you watch as the blade pierces through the Guardsman's armour. A pained groan escapes the Guardsman's mouth. He stumbles back, grabbing the blade buried deeply into his flesh. Prince Irus scowls at the Guardsman, before he strikes at the man's temple. The Guardsman collapses to his knees. Prince Irus leans down, gripping the Guardsman by his hair. There is a dark look in the Prince's gaze. "Tell my uncle that he is no king," Prince Irus spits. He shoves the Guardsman away, as he stands. <<elseif $chp1_42b is 2>> You ball your hand into a tight fist, swinging for his head. Sensing your approach, the Guardsman turns to block your punch. But it is not fast enough. Your fist makes contact with the Guardsman's nose. There is a sickening crunch. When you pull your hand away, you notice blood, running down from the Guardsman's marred nose. The Guardsman growls, a murderous glint in his eyes. He lunges for you, grabbing you by the collar of your shirt. You let out a breath, your fingers trying to pry the Guardsman's grip from you. But his rage has made him strong. The Guardsman winds his own hand back and you prepare yourself for the blow you know will hurt. But the blow does not come. Prince Irus shouts and in a glint of metal, you see him thrust his blade into the Guardsman's shoulder. The dagger pierces through the Guardsman's armour, cutting through flesh. A pained yelp escapes the Guardsman and you are suddenly forgotten as he stumbles to his knees. Prince Irus leans down, gripping the Guardsman by his hair. There is a dark look in the Prince's gaze. "Tell my uncle that he is no king," Prince Irus spits. He shoves the Guardsman away, as he stands. <<elseif $chp1_42b is 3>> You lunge towards the Guardsman's back, hoping to tackle him. Arms outstretched, you land onto the Guardsman's back with a painful thud. His armour beneath his cape means that your tackle barely hurt him. Instead, the Guardsman reaches out for you with both of his hands and swings you over his head. You land in a pile, breathless and on the ground. The Guardsman growls at you, forgetting Prince Irus as he moves towards you. There is a manic look in his eyes, and you know that all he sees is your Ishari heritage. You struggle to sit up, but it hurts to move and your back throbs painfully. The Guardsman leans over you, pressing his knee onto your chest. You gasp, the sudden pressure against your lungs making it hard to breathe. Leering at you, the Guardsman presses harder, pushing his weight onto your ribs. You splutter, trying to shove him off of you. But it is hard to swallow a breath and your lungs feel like they are about to burst. As the pressure becomes painfully unbearable, it disappears. You shift to your side, heaving and choking as you swallow mouthfuls of air. When your eyes move towards the Guardsman, you find Prince Irus gripping the hilt of his dagger, buried deeply into the Guardsman's shoulder. He kicks at the Guardsman, who groans in pain. Blood soaks into his cape and drips down his armour. Prince Irus leans down, gripping the Guardsman by his hair. There is a dark look in the Prince's gaze. "Tell my uncle that he is no king," Prince Irus spits. He shoves the Guardsman away, as he stands. <</if>> [[Next.|chp1_42a2]]

<<if $chp1_44 is true>> You duck down just as you feel an arrow whizz past your face. A breath escapes you. The arrow missed your head by only a fraction. There are archers with them, you realise. If the Blood Guard do not catch up to you, they will surely shoot you down. <<else>> You crane your neck and your eyes widen. One of the Guardsman holds up a bow, an arrow directed at you and Prince Irus. He lets go and the arrow comes soaring towards you. Your heart thuds loudly in your chest. It misses your face, by only a fraction. If the Blood Guard do not catch up to you, they will surely shoot you down. <</if>> The Blood Guards are relentless and cruel in pursuit of their goal, and as such there is no escaping them. Even if you did, you could not hide from the inevitable fate that would await you on the other end. You can hear the sound of galloping hooves echoing across the terrain, growing louder and closer with each passing moment. It is hard to breathe. Your lungs squeeze painfully in your chest. Another arrow comes flying down. This time, Crown whinnies in response. Your heart hammers frantically against your ribcage as panic begins to rise within your chest. They will soon catch up to you. No matter where you run or try to hide, it’s futile. "Hold on," Prince Irus yells. [["What do you mean hold on?" you shout.|chp1_45]] [[You hold on tightly to the saddle.|chp1_45]] [["What are you doing?" you yell.|chp1_45]] [["I'm going to die," you cry.|chp1_45]]

Prince Irus says nothing further, suddenly urging Crown to the right. Your breath is swallowed by the wind as you speed towards a dense forest. As you turn, you find the Blood Guard drawing closer, their horses catching up to you. As you reach the dense forest, an arrow lodges itself into the bark above your head. But Prince Irus is undeterred. He flicks the reigns, and Crown carries you both into the forest. Leaves brush against your face and branches cut at your arms. The trees above cast deep shadows over you. Behind you, you hear the Blood Guard's shouts. They too, are struggling to navigate the dense forest. The farther you go, the denser the forest becomes. Crown seems agitated, but Prince Irus does not stop. Behind you, you hear an anguished cry. You turn, finding one of the Blood Guard, thrown off from his saddle. His horse will go no more. Soon, you are far enough that you can no longer hear the pursuit of the Blood Guard. It seems that they have given up on tracking you into the forest. [[Next.|chp1_46]]

Even though you have evaded the Blood Guard for now, Prince Irus does not slow down Crown. He continues to urge Crown at full speed and despite a valiant effort from the steed, even you can tell that Crown is tiring. By the way Prince Irus grips the reigns, you know that he does not intend to stop. <<set $chp1_46_tired to 0>> [["We cannot go on like this," you sigh. "We need to stop and rest."|chp1_47][$chp1_46_tired +=1]] [["You're going to exhaust Crown," you snap. "We need to stop."|chp1_47][$chp1_46_tired +=2]] [["We must stop," you breathe, exhausted.|chp1_47][$chp1_46_tired +=3]]

<<if $chp1_46_tired is 1>> "We cannot go on like this," you sigh. "We need to stop and rest." Prince Irus tightens his grip on the reigns, but makes no move to stop. You frown, wondering if he heard you or not when he speaks. "We will not stop," he breathes, ragged. "We cannot stop. Didn't you hear? My uncle is now king. He will send the Blood Guard after us until I am dead." "We will die first from exhaustion if we continue on," you retort. Prince Irus lets out a scoff. "Better exhaustion than the Blood Guard. No, we will continue on and that is final." <<elseif $chp1_46_tired is 2>> "You're going to exhaust Crown," you snap. "We need to stop." Prince Irus tightens his grip on the reigns, but makes no move to stop. You frown, wondering if he heard you or not when he speaks. "Crown is fine," Prince Irus mutters. "He's a destrier, bred for war." You scoff, "Even I can tell that Crown is exhausted. We need to stop." Prince Irus grunts in frustration. "We cannot stop. Didn't you hear? My uncle is now king. He will send the Blood Guard after us until I am dead." "We will die first from exhaustion if we continue on," you retort. Prince Irus lets out a scoff. "Better exhaustion than the Blood Guard. No, we will continue on and that is final." <<elseif $chp1_46_tired is 3>> "We must stop," you breathe, exhausted. Prince Irus tightens his grip on the reigns, but makes no move to stop. You frown, wondering if he heard you or not when he speaks. "No, we will not stop," he replies. You frown, feeling the throbbing in your bones and the heaviness of your limbs. Prince Irus seems unconcerned that you both have been fleeing, with barely a moment's rest. "We cannot go on like this," you retort. "We have to stop and rest, or we will collapse from exhaustion." "We will not stop," he breathes, ragged. "We cannot stop. Didn't you hear? My uncle is now king. He will send the Blood Guard after us until I am dead." "We will die first from exhaustion if we continue on," you retort. Prince Irus lets out a scoff. "Better exhaustion than the Blood Guard. No, we will continue on and that is final." <</if>> [[Next.|chp1_48]]

You have been riding for hours. Everything hurts. Your lips are chapped. You are certain that your thighs will be raw from sitting in the saddle for so long. It is dark and the air is cold. The forest is far behind you, and now, you travel along a rocky coastline. Prince Irus only muttered something incoherent about travelling to Vinia faster, but you barely paid him any attention. Fatigue pulls at your eyelids and you blink, struggling to keep awake. Beneath you, Crown trots slowly. It is a soothing sound, listening to his hooves clack against the rocks. A yawn escapes you. You shiver as a breeze blows across your face. How far will you travel before exhaustion claims you and you fall from Crown? The thought keeps you awake for some time, as your fatigued mind begins conjuring up your death in various ways. But even the horror of your own death cannot keep you from sleep. Your head grows heavy, your grip on the saddle loosening. You will rest your eyes, only for a second or two. <<set $sleepytime_irus to false>> [[You slump onto Crown's neck.|chp1_49]] [[You slump backwards, onto Prince Irus.|chp1_49][$sleepytime_irus to true]]

<<if $sleepytime_irus is false>> You lean down, your face pressing into Crown's dark mane. The beast is warm under your skin, and his mane acts as a soft cushion to your weary body. Crown lets out a snort, but the horse seems not to mind your new place at his neck. He is warm and his slow trots, gentle against your hold. It is enough to draw another yawn from your mouth. Resting against a horse's neck is not the most ideal, but in your sleep addled state, you cannot bring yourself to care. Behind you, you think you hear Prince Irus scoff, but you are too tired to pay him any heed. Besides... [[...Crown is an excellent companion to sleep upon.|chp1_50]] [[...you would rather not take such liberties with Prince Irus, as it would be improper.|chp1_50]] [[you would rather not take such liberties with Prince Irus, even though you would like to.|chp1_50]] [[...you would rather not take such liberties with Prince Irus, though your heartbeat races at the prospect.|chp1_50]] [[...you would rather not take such liberties with Prince Irus, as you dislike him immensely.|chp1_50]] [[...you do not care about where you sleep, so long as it's comfortable.|chp1_50]] <<elseif $sleepytime_irus is true>> Exhausted, you lean back. Behind you, Prince Irus stiffens at your movement. His arms still grip the reigns on either side of your shared saddle. The Prince does not speak, nor does he move when another yawn escapes your mouth. You imagine that he might tell you to move, but when he does not, you settle comfortably against his hard chest. There is a solidness about Prince Irus, as you ride across the terrain. He is warm and broad, but it is comforting after having to flee. Your head rests against Prince Irus' shoulder, your eyes opening as you glance at his face from the corner of your vision. There is a furrow in his eyebrows, and though he must sense your stare, he does not meet your gaze. Still, the Prince does not complain at your new position against his chest. You... [[...are grateful, for his companionship has been an unexpected blessing.|chp1_50]] [[...are grateful for his understanding, though your cheeks warm at the thought of being enclosed in his arms.|chp1_50]] [[...are grateful by his hold, pleased that his arms are around you.|chp1_50]] [[...are only doing it to annoy him, for making you travel while exhausted.|chp1_50]] [[...do not care where you rest, so long as it is comfortable.|chp1_50]] [[...did not want to tire Crown any further.|chp1_50]] <</if>>

You do not know how long you travel, only that at some point you must have dozed off against<<if $sleepytime_irus is true>> Prince Irus.<<else>> Crown.<</if>> When you awaken, it is night, your mouth is dry and your head feels heavy. <<if $sleepytime_irus is true>> You are still leaning against Prince Irus, his chest warm under your back. As if sensing that you are no longer sleeping, Prince Irus loosens his hold around you. You realise that he must have been keeping you from sliding off from the saddle while you travelled. <<else>> You are still holding onto Crown's neck, the steed's mane pressed against your face. Sitting up, you blink blearily at your surroundings. Crown whinnies softly as you loosen your hold around his neck. You pat his mane absentmindedly in a wordless gesture of gratitude. <</if>> "You're awake," Prince Irus speaks. His voice draws you to alertness. For the first time since waking, you notice that Crown is not moving. The rocky coastline is no longer visible, but you hear the distance crash of waves along the shore. Scanning the trees and foliage around you, you spot a gleaming white domed roof, in the distance. <<set $chp1_50 to 0>> [["Where are we?" you ask.|chp1_51][$chp1_50 +=1]] [["Where are we going?" you ask.|chp1_51][$chp1_50 +=2]] [["Why have we stopped?" you ask.|chp1_51][$chp1_50 +=3]]

<<if $chp1_50 is 1>> "Where are we?" you ask. "We're close to the border of Vinia," Prince Irus replies. His voice is laced with weariness. The trees around you are not as dense as they had been. Sparser and greener, they permit the moon above to cast down a dull glow. Once more, your eyes are drawn to the dome in the distance. It peeks out from above the treeline. Prince Irus nudges Crown forward, and the horse begins trotting towards the dome. You are unsure if you are closer to Vinia, but without the Blood Guard anywhere near, you do not care. <<elseif $chp1_50 is 2>> "Where are we going?" you ask. Prince Irus points towards the dome, peeking out from the treeline. "See that?" he says. "We're going to stop there for the night." You gaze at the dome, rounded and white under the moonlight. It is tall, tall enough that not even the highest branches of the trees around you can reach its very top. You are relieved, grateful that you will finally be able to rest properly without the Blood Guard on your trail. <<elseif $chp1_50 is 3>> "Why have we stopped?" you ask. Prince Irus lets out a tired sigh. You realise that he must be as weary as you had been, though while you dozed, he remained awake. "You are right, $name," he mumbles. "We cannot travel indefinitely. See that dome over there?" Your eyes follow where Prince Irus points up to the white dome. It peeks high above the treeline, lit up but the moon. "It should offer us shelter for the night," he explains, nudging Crown forward. <</if>> [[Next.|chp1_52]]

As you approach, the trees give way to an old pathway that is now littered with dried leaves and twigs. There are no signs of any footprints. It appears that the pathway has long been forgotten. As you emerge from the pathway, your eyes settle upon a tall, stone building. The building is massive, taller than the tree tops above you. Long, cylindrical towers make up most of the building, the walls which was once white, now weathered away with age and disuse. As you gaze upon the architecture of the building, a nagging sense of familiarity tugs at your memories. //Mama and the endless chants of worship, the smell of burning wicks drenched in oil as Mama sings softly while she prays.// The memory comes back with such clarity that you're left wondering how you had ever forgotten it. This building is familiar because you have seen many like them, back when you were still in Ishari. It is a temple, dedicated to the Ancient Ones. Prince Irus slides down from the saddle. All too soon, you're reminded of the Blood Guard and King Erlan. Worship of the Ancient Ones are forbidden in Cyre. A temple like this should have been destroyed, but somehow, it seems to have survived after all these years. Prince Irus catches you staring at him and he frowns. Does he not realise where he has brought you? [[Next.|chp1_53]]

You join Prince Irus on the ground, your eyes scanning the expanse of the temple. The stone has been chipped away, possibly for the gold that once lined the walls, leaving behind remnants of the precious metal. "We'll rest here," Prince Irus explains. <<set $chp1_53 to 0>> [["But this is a temple for the Ancient Ones," you reply, in disbelief.|chp1_54][$chp1_53 +=1]] [["This place shouldn't even exist," you say, scowling.|chp1_54][$chp1_53 +=2]] [["Are you sure?" you ask, "This is a temple for the Ancient Ones."|chp1_54][$chp1_53 +=3]]

<<if $chp1_53 is 1>> "But this is a temple for the Ancient Ones," you reply, in disbelief. Prince Irus glances at you with a frown. Does he not understand the implications of the temple being allowed to stand? As if sensing your unease, Prince Irus runs a hand through his hair and sighs. "It's just a building," he answers. "Trust me, there are no gods here." <<elseif $chp1_53 is 2>> "This place shouldn't even exist," you say, scowling. Prince Irus lets out a breath. Is he accustomed to such sentiments? Growing up as the son of King Erlan, you would not be surprised if Prince Irus shared the same views of the Ishari people and their worship of the Ancient Ones. "It's just a building," he answers. "Trust me, there are no gods here." <<elseif $chp1_53 is 3>> "Are you sure?" you ask, "This is a temple for the Ancient Ones." Prince Irus gazes at the temple, but there is no sign of concern in his eyes. Does he not care that the temple exists or that the Blood Guard would certainly kill you if you were caught inside? You doubt that Prince Irus has any favourable views of the Ancient Ones, but even so, resting in a temple like this is dangerous. "It's just a building," he answers. "Trust me, there are no gods here." <</if>><<set $chp1_54 to 0>> [["That's not true," you protest.|chp1_55][$chp1_54 +=1]] [["That may be so," you reply, "but, we should still be cautious."|chp1_55][$chp1_54 +=2]] [["You're right. There are no gods here," you mutter.|chp1_55][$chp1_54 +=3]]

<<if $chp1_54 is 1 and $spiritual_ancient gte 51>> "That's not true," you protest. Your belief in the Ancient Ones comes through in the tone of your voice. Prince Irus blinks, startled by your words. You fear that he might berate you, or worse still, leave you for the Blood Guard to find, but Prince Irus only frowns deeper. "Believe what you want," Prince Irus mutters. "There is no one here but us." <<elseif $chp1_54 is 1 and $spiritual_ancient is 50>> "That's not true," you protest. You are still uncertain on whether or not you believe in the Ancient Ones, but even still, the idea of denying their existence entirely leaves you feeling uneasy. "Believe what you want," Prince Irus mutters. "There is no one here but us." <<elseif $chp1_54 is 1 and $spiritual_ancient lte 0>> "That's not true," you protest. You do not believe in the Ancient Ones and your protest sounds feeble, even to your ears. Prince Irus sighs, shaking his head at your words. Does he see through your false words or will he condemn you for them? "Believe what you want," Prince Irus mutters. "There is no one here but us." <<elseif $chp1_54 is 2 and $spiritual_ancient gte 51>> "That may be so," you reply, "but, we should still be cautious." You believe in the Ancient Ones, but the idea of sharing your beliefs freely leaves you feeling uneasy. All your life, you have learnt to keep away from the Blood Guard and that any sign of worship to the Ancient Ones would get you killed. Prince Irus lets out a breath and you wonder if he sees through your words. Does he know that you believe in the Ancient Ones? "Believe what you want," Prince Irus mutters. "There is no one here but us." <<elseif $chp1_54 is 2 and $spiritual_ancient is 50>> "That may be so," you reply, "but, we should still be cautious." You are still uncertain about the existence of the Ancient Ones, regardless of your Ishari heritage. Still, the idea of denying them entirely leaves you feeling uneasy. All your life, you have learnt that worship of the Ancient Ones would only lead to your death at the hands of the Blood Guard. Still, whether or not you believe in the Ancient Ones, even you know to remain cautious when approaching a temple like this. "Believe what you want," Prince Irus mutters. "There is no one here but us." <<elseif $chp1_54 is 2 and $spiritual_ancient lte 0>> "That may be so," you reply, "but, we should still be cautious." You do not believe in the Ancient Ones and the thought of even being caught in the temple leaves you feeling uneasy. The Blood Guard have been known to kill people on sight for even mentioning the Ancient Ones and the thought does not sit well with you. Still, the idea of ignoring the implications of being in a temple dedicated to the Ancient Ones is a daunting thought. "Believe what you want, but trust me," Prince Irus mutters. "There is no one here but us." <<elseif $chp1_54 is 3 and $spiritial_ancient gte 51>> "You're right. There are no gods here," you mutter. The words sound false, even as you speak them. You believe in the Ancient Ones, but saying it aloud, especially to Prince Irus seems like inviting danger to yourself. Prince Irus surely must have been influenced by King Erlan's hatred for the Ishari people's belief in the Ancient Ones. Still, when he turns to look at you, you cannot be sure of how convincing your words were. "There is no one here but us," Prince Irus agrees. <<elseif $chp1_54 is 3 and $spiritial_ancient is 50>> "You're right. There are no gods here," you mutter. You have not decided whether you believe in the Ancient Ones or not, but even you know that the temple is deserted. It would be foolish to think that any god would remain within, lingering for passing travellers. "There is no one here but us," Prince Irus agrees. <<elseif $chp1_54>> "You're right. There are no gods here," you mutter. The vehemence in your tone catches Prince Irus by surprise. He looks at you, a questioning look in his gaze. But whatever he wants to ask, he refrains from doing so. Perhaps he expected you to disagree with him, due to your Ishari heritage? "There is no one here but us," Prince Irus agrees. <</if>> [[Next.|chp1_56]]

Prince Irus strides inside the temple, with Crown in tow. You stare as both the Prince and his steed enter through the tall archway, disappearing from view. You shiver, suddenly cold. Your eyes trace along the stone reliefs, carved into the walls of the temple. Once, they must have been impressive, but now, all that remains is barely recognisable. With a sigh, you follow after Prince Irus. [[Next.|chp1_57][$location to "Abandoned temple, somewhere in Cyre."]]

It is significantly cooler inside the temple, but not uncomfortably so. Your eyes strain in the darkness, but you make out the large open chamber with tall ceilings that curve, joining in the centre of the domed roof. A balustrade lining the outskirts of the room, protects carved depictions of a goddess, ancient and large. The depiction is familiar. Her eyes are slanted and a wide sun, circling her head. You remember the merchant from Salt Bay, the strange man carrying idols of the Ancient Ones. Gazing at the goddess carved into the walls, you recognise her as Ehulla, Goddess of the Earth. Prince Irus comes to stand beside you, his eyes on Ehulla's carving. "I may not believe in the Ancient Ones," Prince Irus murmurs. "But even I can admit fine craftsmanship when I see it." "This is Ehulla," you explain. "She is the Goddess of the Earth." Prince Irus casts you a curious look. "How did you know that?" [["A merchant in Salt Bay told me," you answer, shrugging.|chp1_58]] [["I learnt it from a merchant in Salt Bay," you explain, "he was spreading knowledge about the Ancient Ones."|chp1_58]] [["Trust me, it wasn't by choice," you mutter. "A merchant from Salt Bay told me."|chp1_58]]

A strange look passes through Prince Irus' blue eyes. You tense. Merchants like the one you met all those years ago would be killed if they were found out. You still do not know who the merchant was or how he had managed to display his wares so openly. But being associated with a man like that could get you killed. When Prince Irus speaks, there is a curious lilt to his voice. "Your mother was an Ishari woman," he says. "Do you also believe in the Ancient Ones?" <<set $chp1_58_ancient to 0>> [["I do," you answer, sincerely.|chp1_59][$chp1_58_ancient +=1]] [["I do not," you lie.|chp1_59][$chp1_58_ancient +=2]] [["Of course not," you answer sincerely.|chp1_59][$chp1_58_ancient +=3]] [["I am unsure what to believe," you answer sincerely.|chp1_59][$chp1_58_ancient +=4]] [["I am unsure what to believe," you lie.|chp1_59][$chp1_58_ancient +=5]]

<<if $chp1_58_ancient is 1>> You told Prince Irus that you believed in the Ancient Ones, being truthful about your beliefs. You did so because... [[...you trust Prince Irus.|chp1_60][$irusRel +=1]] [[...you are not ashamed of your beliefs.|chp1_60]] [[...you do not care what Prince Irus thinks.|chp1_60]] <<elseif $chp1_58_ancient is 2>> You told Prince Irus that you believed in the Ancient Ones, even though that was a lie. You do believe in the Ancient Ones, but you lied to Prince Irus because... [[...you do not trust Prince Irus as yet.|chp1_60][$irusRel -=1]] [[...you feel uneasy about sharing your beliefs so openly.|chp1_60]] [[...you do not want to share anything with Prince Irus.|chp1_60]] <<elseif $chp1_58_ancient is 3>> You told Prince Irus that you do not believe in the Ancient Ones and you had been speaking the truth. You told him the truth because... [[...you trust Prince Irus.|chp1_60][$irusRel +=1]] [[...you are not ashamed of your disbelief in the Ancient Ones.|chp1_60]] [[...you do not care what Prince Irus thinks.|chp1_60]] <<elseif $chp1_58_ancient is 4>> You told Prince Irus that you were not sure of what you believed in, and that was the truth. You told Prince Irus the truth because... [[...you trust Prince Irus.|chp1_60][$irusRel +=1]] [[...you are not ashamed of admitting your uncertainty.|chp1_60]] [[...you do not care what Prince Irus thinks.|chp1_60]] <<elseif $chp1_58_ancient is 5>> You told Prince Irus that you are uncertain about your beliefs, but that is not true. You lied to him because... [[...you do not trust Prince Irus as yet.|chp1_60][$irusRel -=1]] [[...you feel uneasy about sharing your beliefs so openly.|chp1_60]] [[...you do not want to share anything with Prince Irus.|chp1_60]] <</if>>

Prince Irus nods, his eyes pulling away from the depiction of Ehulla. When he turns to look at you, there is a tiredness in his eyes. All at once, you're reminded that the both of you have been travelling with little rest in between. "We should get some rest," Prince Irus says, before he turns away. [[Next.|chp1_61]]

Returning your attention to the rest of the temple chamber, you find Prince Irus already unpacking the saddlebags from Crown. You let out a breath, the fatigue from earlier, not entirely gone. Heading towards the corner of the floor, where Prince Irus has set up his sleeping roll, you begin to cordone off your own spot to rest. Weary as you are, you cannot fall asleep. Your mind is filled with a thousand thoughts. Your father's death still lingers in the back of your mind, and the sight of the Blood Guardsman who nearly killed you plagues your memories. You need a distraction. <<set $temple_irus to false>><<set $temple_Explore to false>> [[You explore the rest of the temple.|chp1_62a][$temple_Explore to true]] [[You talk to Prince Irus.|chp1_62b][$temple_irus to true]]

With your decision made, you pull your cloak tightly around your shoulders and set off to explore the temple. The air is cool against your skin as you move away from the main chamber of the temple. Arched windows allow for the moonlight to filter through the dimness. As you approach the end of the chamber, you notice a hallway going to your left. To your right, there is a staircase which leads up, to a higher floor. <<set $temple_explore to 0>> [[You follow the hallway to your left.|chp1_62a1][$temple_explore +=1]] [[You take the staircase going up.|chp1_62a1][$temple_explore +=2]]

You approach Prince Irus. He is seated on the hard floor, his leather armour now lying in a heap beside him. He's managed to start a fire and it casts an orange glow onto him. <<if $IrusInjury_chp1 is true>> As you draw closer, you notice the dark stain against Prince Irus' shirt. It is where the Blood Guardsman had managed to stab him, when you were both attacked earlier. Prince Irus barely looks up at you, as you take a seat across from him. Instead, he winces as he struggles to clean his wound. His injury is red and there is blood matted against his shoulder. Earlier, when the Blood Guardsman attacked, you instinctively chose to protect yourself and as a consequence, Prince Irus was hurt. <<set $injury_reaction_irus to 0>> [[You acted out of instinct, never intending for Prince Irus to get injured.|chp1_62b1][$injury_reaction_irus +=1]] [[You feel guilty that Prince Irus was injured because you protected yourself.|chp1_62b1][$injury_reaction_irus +=2]] [[You chose to save yourself and would do it again, regardless of Prince Irus' injuries.|chp1_62b1][$injury_reaction_irus +=3]] [[It is unfortunate that Prince Irus was injured, but you acted out of self-preservation, not unkindness.|chp1_62b1][$injury_reaction_irus +=4]] <<elseif $MCInjury_chp1 is true>> As you draw closer, you take a seat across from Prince Irus. Your arm throbs where the Blood Guardsman managed to stab you. Wincing, you peel away the sleeve of your shirt and are greeted by the sight of your wound. It is shallow, albeit red and painful. You look up and catch Prince Irus' gaze on your wound. When the Blood Guardsman attacked, you didn't hesitate to jump in between the blade and Prince Irus. As a result, you were wounded in the process. <<set $injury_reaction_MC to 0>> [[You would do it again, if it meant protecting Prince Irus.|chp1_62b1][$injury_reaction_MC +=1]] [[You would have done it for anyone, because protecting others is a cause you strive for.|chp1_62b1][$injury_reaction_MC +=2]] [[You regret having done so, because it resulted in your injury.|chp1_62b1][$injury_reaction_MC +=3]] [[You regret that doing so as it it caused your injury, but you are still glad that Prince Irus was not injured.|chp1_62b1][$injury_reaction_MC +=4]] <<else>> As you take a seat across from Prince Irus, you feel the warmth of the fire seep into your bones. It eases the chill that clings to your skin and you let out a tired breath. You glance up at Prince Irus and find him massaging his gloveless hands. There are red callouses against his palms and knuckles, where he had been holding the reigns when you travelled. Neither you, nor Prince Irus were injured too badly when the Blood Guardsman attacked. You managed to protect the both of you from being wounded by the Guardsman's blade. <<set $noInjury_reac to 0>> [[You are grateful that you were able to protect the both of you.|chp1_62b1][$noInjury_reac +=1]] [[You would have protected anyone, regardless of the result.|chp1_62b1][$noInjury_reac +=2]] [[You would do anything to protect Prince Irus.|chp1_62b1][$noInjury_reac +=3]] [[You only acted out of self-preservation.|chp1_62b1][$noInjury_reac +=4]] <</if>>

<<if $temple_explore is 1>> You walk down the hallway to your left. It is narrow and the walls are lined with depictions of Ehulla in various scenes. Examining the murals, you see one scene of Ehulla, in harvest fields. In another, Ehulla is standing beside a woman and her child. The images are old, but you know that many in Ishari still worship Ehulla. Eventually, the hallway opens up to a small room. A stone pedestal sits against the far side of the wall. Upon it, you notice brass bowls and beads that seemed to have been left behind, intact. An incription, carved into the pedestal is barely visible. You kneel down, tracing your finger over the ancient writing. //Ask and Goddess Ehulla will provide.// This is a prayer room. One meant for worship. Your eyes stray towards the pedestal once more. <<set $chp1_62a_pray to 0>> [[You choose to pray to Ehulla.|chp1_62a1_pray][$chp1_62a_pray +=1]] [[You do not pray to Ehulla.|chp1_62a1_pray][$chp1_62a_pray +=2]] <<elseif $temple_explore is 2>> You choose to follow the winding stairs, to the floor above the main chamber. As you ascend, the air becomes cooler and a slight breeze brushes against your skin. You shiver and draw your cloak tighter around yourself. The stairs eventually lead you to an open archway. As you step through the archway, you are greeted by a roofless chamber. Above you, the moon shines brightly. Beyond the chamber you stand in, you can see the dense trees through large windows. It is peaceful, with only the distant sound of the sea piercing through the night's calmness. You feet carry you to one of the pillars. It is carved in symbols that you do not understand. Above it, an image of Ehulla is carved into the pillar. No matter what you believe, it seems that Ehulla will watch over this temple for many more years to come. Your gaze returns to the skies above. Stars twinkle brightly in the distance. In Salt Bay, many children would make wishes on stars. <<set $star_wish to false>> [[You make a wish.|chp1_62a1_wish][$star_wish to true]] [[You do not make a wish.|chp1_62a1_wish]] <</if>>

<<if $chp1_62a_pray is 1>> You kneel down, before the pedestal. The hard floor digs into your knees, the dust gathering on your cloak. Most prayers are deeply personal, but some often pray for others. You pray for... <<set $prayer_option to 0>> [[...a better future for yourself.|chp1_62a1_pray1][$prayer_option +=1]] [[...a better future for both you and Prince Irus.|chp1_62a1_pray1][$prayer_option +=2]] [[...your father, whose death is still fresh in your mind.|chp1_62a1_pray1][$prayer_option +=3]] <<elseif $chp1_62a_pray is 2>> You decide not to pray. For some, praying can bring peace of mind and to others, all it does is leave them heartbroken with grief. You did not pray because... <<set $no_prayer to 0>> [[...you do not believe in Ehulla's power.|chp1_62a1_pray1][$no_prayer +=1]] [[...you do not want to pray.|chp1_62a1_pray1][$no_prayer +=2]] [[...you do not believe that praying will help you.|chp1_62a1_pray1][$no_prayer +=3]] <</if>>

<<if $star_wish is true>> As you gaze up at the stars, you pick out a particularly bright star. It may be childish, but making a wish can do no harm to you. Growing up in Salt Bay, you would wish for many things, some frivolous and others more meaningful. You decide to wish for... <<set $wish_option to 0>> [[...a warm bed and good food.|chp1_62a1_wish1][$wish_option +=1]] [[...safety for your upcoming journey.|chp1_62a1_wish1][$wish_option +=2]] [[...a secure future.|chp1_62a1_wish1][$wish_option +=3]] <<elseif $star_wish is false>> As you gaze up at the stars, you let out a breath. Making wishes with stars is a children's game. Wishes rarely come true and when they do, it is merely coincidence. You will not wish on a star because... <<set $no_wish to 0>> [[...you are not a child to believe in wishes.|chp1_62a1_wish1][$no_wish +=1]] [[...you are not hopeful that your wishes will come true.|chp1_62a1_wish1][$no_wish +=2]] [[...you do not feel like making a wish right now.|chp1_62a1_wish1][$no+wish +=3]] <</if>>

<<if $prayer_option is 1>> You pray for a better future for yourself. It feels as if you've been fleeing all your life, surrounded by destruction and death. There has hardly been a moment where you have had any peace. Everything you had in Salt Bay is now gone, and now, even Ahlf is dead too. If Ehulla can really hear you, you pray that your future will be better. You hope that she can grant you a life which is not fraught with pain and loss. <<elseif $prayer_option is 2>> You pray for a better future for both you and Prince Irus. It feels as if you've been fleeing all your life, surrounded by destruction and death. There has hardly been a moment where you have had any peace. Everything you had in Salt Bay is now gone, and now, even Ahlf is dead too. Yet you know that the Prince has suffered too. The King, his father is dead and he has been fleeing with you. You know that Prince Irus is suffering, and you pray that Ehulla can bring him peace. <<elseif $prayer_option is 3>> You kneel down before the pedestal, feeling the hard ground bite into your knees. Dust gathers at your cloak, splayed around you. You pray for your father, his soul now taken by death. His loss was not one that you had expected, and no matter how complicated your relationship had been, Ahlf had been a constant for most of your life. You know that you cannot go back in time to change how things had been with your father, so you pray that Ehulla will watch over him in the afterlife. <<elseif $no_prayer is 1>> You choose not to pray, for it is hard to pray to Ehulla when you do not believe in her power. She is a goddess of a temple that has been abandoned. Whatever prayers were once made in this chamber, you are certain not to add to them. <<elseif $no_prayer is 2>> You choose not to pray to Ehulla, for you do not want to pray. How can you pray, after everything that has happened? You are tired and your bones are weary, so instead, you only gaze at the pedestal where countless others must have prayed before. <<elseif $no_prayer is 3>> Praying will not help you, not when everything has become so difficult. No amount of prayers will stop the Blood Guard from seeking you out and you doubt any prayer could keep you safe from harm in the future. No, you do not believe that praying will help you and so, you decide to gaze at the lone pedestal instead. <</if>> [[Next.|chp1_62_central]]

<<if $temple_explore is 1>> Gathering yourself, you turn away from the small, prayer room and make your way back to the main chamber of the temple. <<elseif $temple_explore is 2>> Gathering yourself, you turn away from the large, roofless chamber and make your way back to the main chamber of the temple. <</if>> When you return, you find Prince Irus still seated where he had been when you chose to explore the temple. Crown is seated, the steed chewing on a shrivelled apple that Prince Irus must have given him. <<if $temple_irus is false>> [[You decide to speak with Prince Irus.|chp1_62b]] [[You decide to try and sleep.|chp1_63]] <<elseif $temple_irus is true>> [[You decide to try and sleep.|chp1_63]] <</if>>

<<if $wish_option is 1>> As you gaze at the bright star, you wish for a warm bed and good food. You have been travelling on horseback, with barely a moment to catch your breath. Everything hurts and your stomach squeezes painfully from hunger. You long for rest under a roof that isn't crumbling, where there is plentiful food and no sign of danger. You let out a breath, hoping that your wish comes true. <<elseif $wish_option is 2>> Gazing at the bright star above you, you wish for safety on your journey ahead. Neither you nor Prince Irus have been blessed with good fortune. Both of your fathers have died and now, you are fleeing from the Blood Guard who would see the both of you dead. You were never truly prepared to embark on a journey like this, not with an exiled prince and Salt Bay destroyed. Looking at the star, you can only hope that your wish is granted. <<elseif $wish_option is 3>> As you look up at the star above you, you wish for a secure future. For as long as you can remember, you have been fleeing. First, from Ishari, and now from Salt Bay. It feels as if you've never truly settled down, free to be yourself without having to fear the Blood Guard or judgment of others. If your wish comes true, you hope that at least your future will be better, one where you are safe from the dangers that threatens your security. <<elseif $no_wish is 1>> You tear your gaze away from the star above. Wishes are a children's game, something that never works. No matter how many times you wish on a star, you know that it will not come true. Perhaps it makes you a bitter person, but you know better than to believe in wishes. Letting out a sigh, you feel the weight of the past few days settle on your shoulders. No amount of wishing could ever erase it. <<elseif $no_wish is 2>> You look away from the sky, feeling the familiar twist of hopelessness in your gut. Wishes are a children's game, but even so, it never stopped the adults in Salt Bay from making them. Yet, as you ponder the past few days, it is difficult to imagine that your wish would ever come true. A breath escapes you, and with it, you feel the weight of everything that has happened. No wish could ever alleviate your burdens. <<elseif $no_wish is 3>> You sigh, looking away from the stars. It is hard to concentrate on making wishes, when your mind is burdened with the weight of the past few days. Memories of Salt Bay, your father's death and even your own brush against a Blood Guardsman has left you reeling with restlessness. Making a wish now seems like a frivolity that you cannot afford. It is hard to remember a time when making a wish even seemed possible. Now, all it does is leave you feeling drained. <</if>> [[Next.|chp1_62_central]]

Using your cloak to keep away the chill of the night, you settle down against the hard, temple floor. Sleep does not come as easily as you had hoped. It seems that even your exhaustion cannot calm your restlessness. Still, you bury yourself in your cloak, hoping for some semblance of rest. [[Next.|chp1_63a]]

<<if $injury_reaction_irus is 1>> You acted out of instinct, when you chose to protect yourself. There had been no intention for Prince Irus to get injured. It is hard to throw yourself in danger, to protect another, not when you are faced with a Blood Guardsman who is eager to kill you. Prince Irus lets out another hiss, as he wipes away the blood from his wound. <<set $woundClean_irus to 0>> [[You offer to help clean his wound.|chp1_62b2][$woundClean_irus +=1]] [[You do not offer to clean his wound.|chp1_62b2][$woundClean_irus +=2]] <<elseif $injury_reaction_irus is 2>> You feel guilty that Prince Irus was injured because you protected yourself. The remorse is nearly choking as you gaze at Prince Irus. You had acted out of instinct, not out of thought. Perhaps if you had warned him then he would not have been injured. Guilt worms its way into your stomach, twisting and writhing. A pained hiss escapes Prince Irus' mouth as he wipes away the dried blood against his wound. <<set $woundClean_irus to false>> [[You offer to help clean his wound.|chp1_62b2][$woundClean_irus +=1]] [[You do not offer to clean his wound.|chp1_62b2][$woundClean_irus +=2]] <<elseif $injury_reaction_irus is 3>> All your life, you have learnt that you cannot protect others by endangering yourself. You acted out of instinct when you ducked down. If Prince Irus was injured, it was his own fault. You cannot be expected to keep another person safe if it means placing yourself in danger. A sharp hiss escapes Prince Irus' mouth as he wipes away the dried blood from his wound. <<set $woundClean_irus to false>> [[You offer to help clean his wound.|chp1_62b2][$woundClean_irus +=1]] [[You do not offer to clean his wound.|chp1_62b2][$woundClean_irus +=2]] <<elseif $injury_reaction_irus is 4>> When you protected yourself, it had been an act of self-preservation. Prince Irus was injured, but that had been an unfortunate consequence of being attacked by a Blood Guardsman. You never intended for Prince Irus to get injured, but you also did not intend to endanger yourself. Prince Irus lets out a hiss, as he wipes away the blood from his wound. <<set $woundClean_irus to false>> [[You offer to help clean his wound.|chp1_62b2][$woundClean_irus +=1]] [[You do not offer to clean his wound.|chp1_62b2][$woundClean_irus +=2]] <<elseif $injury_reaction_MC is 1>> When you placed yourself between the Blood Guardsman and Prince Irus, all you could think of was protecting him from harm. Perhaps it was your father's words to keep the Prince safe that motivated you or perhaps it was instinctive. Yet, looking at the uninjured Prince, you know that you made the right decision. You return your attention to the wound in your arm. It throbs dully as you stare at the angry flesh, now red with your blood. "I can help you bind your wound," Prince Irus offers. You look up, and find that Prince Irus' expression is sincere as he gazes at you. <<set $help_accept to false>> [[You accept his help.|chp1_62b2_MCwound][$help_accept to true]] [[You refuse his help.|chp1_62b2_MCwound]] <<elseif $injury_reaction_MC is 2>> You would have protected anyone, regardless of their identity. The idea of another being harmed, when you know you could have done something to stop it, causes you to frown. As you gaze upon Prince Irus, you know that you made the right decision by protecting him, royalty or not. You return your attention to the wound in your arm. It throbs dully as you stare at the angry flesh, now red with your blood. "I can help you bind your wound," Prince Irus offers. You look up, and find that Prince Irus' expression is sincere as he gazes at you. <<set $help_accept to false>> [[You accept his help.|chp1_62b2_MCwound][$help_accept to true]] [[You refuse his help.|chp1_62b2_MCwound]] <<elseif $injury_reaction_MC is 3>> You regret having done so, because it resulted in your injury. When you put yourself in danger to protect Prince Irus, you did so out of instinct. You did not stop to think about what the consequences would be but now, as you gaze at an uninjured Prince Irus, you wish you could have acted differently. You return your attention to the wound in your arm. It throbs dully as you stare at the angry flesh, now red with your blood. "I can help you bind your wound," Prince Irus offers. You look up, and find that Prince Irus' expression is sincere as he gazes at you. <<set $help_accept to false>> [[You accept his help.|chp1_62b2_MCwound][$help_accept to true]] [[You refuse his help.|chp1_62b2_MCwound]] <<elseif $injury_reaction_MC is 4>> You regret that doing so as it it caused your injury, but you are still glad that Prince Irus was not injured. Perhaps there had been a better way to keep Prince Irus safe, without having to be injured in the process. Still, as you look up at an uninjured Prince Irus, you know that you made the right decision. You return your attention to the wound in your arm. It throbs dully as you stare at the angry flesh, now red with your blood. "I can help you bind your wound," Prince Irus offers. You look up, and find that Prince Irus' expression is sincere as he gazes at you. <<set $help_accept to false>> [[You accept his help.|chp1_62b2_MCwound][$help_accept to true]] [[You refuse his help.|chp1_62b2_MCwound]] <<elseif $noInjury_reac is 1>> You are grateful that you were able to protect the both of you. It had been your instincts which kept you both safe and you are glad that neither of you suffered any serious injuries. Prince Irus glances at you, his eyes finding yours in the glow of the fire. "I wanted to thank you," he says. "For earlier. You didn't have to help me, but you did." <<set $Irus_thanks to 0>> [["You're welcome," you reply, smiling.|chp1_62b2_nil][$Irus_thanks +=1]] [[♡"You're welcome," you respond, flushing under his gaze.|chp1_62b2_nil][$Irus_thanks +=2, $flirt_shy +=5, $irusRom +=5]] [[♡"You are very welcome," you answer with a wink.|chp1_62b2_nil][$Irus_thanks +=3, $flirt_bold +=5, $irusRom +=5]] [["It was really nothing," you answer with a shrug.|chp1_62b2_nil][$Irus_thanks +=4]] <<elseif $noInjury_reac is 2>> You would have protected anyone, regardless of the result. If it was anyone else in danger, you would have still tried your best to protect them. Just because it was Prince Irus in danger, didn't factor into your decsion. You would do anything to protect those who need it the most. Still, as you look up at an uninjured Prince Irus, you are glad that you managed to keep him safe. Prince Irus catches your gaze over the fire, his blue eyes cast in an ember glow. "I wanted to thank you," he says. "For earlier. You didn't have to help me, but you did." <<set $Irus_thanks to 0>> [["You're welcome," you reply, smiling.|chp1_62b2_nil][$Irus_thanks +=1]] [[♡"You're welcome," you respond, flushing under his gaze.|chp1_62b2_nil][$Irus_thanks +=2, $flirt_shy +=5, $irusRom +=5]] [[♡"You are very welcome," you answer with a wink.|chp1_62b2_nil][$Irus_thanks +=3, $flirt_bold +=5, $irusRom +=5]] [["It was really nothing," you answer with a shrug.|chp1_62b2_nil][$Irus_thanks +=4]] <<elseif $noInjury_reac is 3>> You would do anything to protect Prince Irus. Perhaps it would have been a different outcome, if the person in danger had not been Prince Irus. Does that make you a bad person, you wonder? Your father asked you to keep the Prince safe and perhaps that was all it was. Yet, as you gaze up at the Prince over the fire, you cannot help but wonder if there was more to it than simply fulfilling your father's wish. Prince Irus glances at you, the firelight dancing across his face. "I wanted to thank you," he says. "For earlier. You didn't have to help me, but you did." <<set $Irus_thanks to 0>> [["You're welcome," you reply, smiling.|chp1_62b2_nil][$Irus_thanks +=1]] [[♡"You're welcome," you respond, flushing under his gaze.|chp1_62b2_nil][$Irus_thanks +=2, $flirt_shy +=5, $irusRom +=5]] [[♡"You are very welcome," you answer with a wink.|chp1_62b2_nil][$Irus_thanks +=3, $flirt_bold +=5, $irusRom +=5]] [["It was really nothing," you answer with a shrug.|chp1_62b2_nil][$Irus_thanks +=4]] <<elseif $noInjury_reac is 4>> You only acted out of self-preservation. After all, if you let Prince Irus die then survival would become twice as hard. It was instinct which led you to keep the both of you safe and you are glad for it. Regardless of your intentions, you still protected the Prince, keeping him free from any serious injuries. Prince Irus glances at you, his eyes alit with the ember fire. "I wanted to thank you," he says. "For earlier. You didn't have to help me, but you did." <<set $Irus_thanks to 0>> [["You're welcome," you reply, smiling.|chp1_62b2_nil][$Irus_thanks +=1]] [[♡"You're welcome," you respond, flushing under his gaze.|chp1_62b2_nil][$Irus_thanks +=2, $flirt_shy +=5, $irusRom +=5]] [[♡"You are very welcome," you answer with a wink.|chp1_62b2_nil][$Irus_thanks +=3, $flirt_bold +=5, $irusRom +=5]] [["It was really nothing," you answer with a shrug.|chp1_62b2_nil][$Irus_thanks +=4]] <</if>>

<<if $woundClean_irus is 1>> "I can help you clean the wound," you say, eyes darting to the wound in Prince Irus' shoulder. Prince Irus looks at you, his eyebrows raised at your offer. Silence falls between the both of you, interrupted only by the crackling of the fire. For a moment, you think that he will refuse your offer. After all, you did not do anything to help him when the Blood Guardsman attacked. "I..." Prince Irus trails off, glancing at you. He touches the raw skin around his shoulder and grimaces. "Alright," he replies. "I suppose could use the help." [[Next.|chp1_62b2_1]] <<elseif $woundClean_irus is 2>> You remain quiet, as Prince Irus dabs at the raw skin across his shoulder. There is an unsteadiness in the way that Prince Irus wipes at his wound and a deep grimace fills his expression. His wound will fester if left untreated, no matter how shallow the cut is. Your eyes scan the contents of Prince Irus' pack, strewn across the floor. A jar, half-opened sits close to Prince Irus. You bring it up to inspect and find it filled with a deep green paste. It emits a pungent odour and you recoil from the jar. "Careful with that," Prince Irus mutters. "It's Setemin paste. I don't have anymore than what's in the jar, so don't spill any." <<set $no_clean_irus to 0>> [["I won't," you answer softly."|chp1_62b2_1][$no_clean_irus +=1]] [["I won't spill any," you answer.|chp1_62b2_1][$no_clean_irus +=2]] [["I'm not a fool," you huff. "I won't spill any."|chp1_62b2_1][$no_clean_irus +=3]] <</if>>

<<if $help_accept is true>> "Alright," you respond. Prince Irus moves to sit beside you. Taking hold of your injured forearm, Prince Irus begins to wipe away the dried blood with a damp cloth. You wince, as the wound begins to sting under his ministrations. "Sorry," Prince Irus says, as if sensing your pain. His fingers are deft in their movements, as they wipe any traces of blood and dirt from your skin. When he is satisfied, Prince Irus draws out a strip of bandages from his pack and begins to bind your wound. His eyes are focussed on your arm, allowing you a moment to examine the concentration in his face. It is odd to watch him this closely, as if you're privy to something you weren't meant to watch. Your gaze shifts between the way Prince Irus bandages your arm to the deep expression on his face. He does not appear to notice you watching him, so engrossed in what he's doing. When he is done, Prince Irus looks up at you, his eyes finding yours in the dimness of the room. "All done," he says. His fingers still grip your arm, and you can feel the warmth of his skin seeping into your arm. <<set $response_62b2 to 0>> [[♡You flush, feeling heat creep up your neck.|chp1_62b_MCwound1][$response_62b2 +=1, $flirt_shy +=5, $irusRom +=2]] [[♡You hold his gaze, enticed by his touch on your skin.|chp1_62b_MCwound1][$response_62b2 +=2, $flirt_bold +=5, $irusRom +=2]] [[You draw your hand away, grateful for his help.|chp1_62b_MCwound1][$response_62b2 +=3]] [[You snatch your hand away, not wanting to linger in his hold.|chp1_62b_MCwound1][$response_62b2 +=4]] <<elseif $help_accept is false>> "It's fine," you answer. "I can bind it on my own." Prince Irus shrugs, but you feel his stare on you as you begin to clean your wound. It stings under the damp cloth as you wipe away the dried blood and dirt along your cut. It is not deep, but leaving it untreated for too long would result in it festering. Once your wound is cleaned, you reach over for a rolled strip of linen to bind the wound. Placing the strip of linen against your wound, you find that it is far more difficult to do so with only one hand. Perhaps sensing your struggle, Prince Irus reaches out and grasps the bandage from your hand, taking over binding the wound. His eyes are focussed on your arm, allowing you a moment to examine the concentration in his face. It is odd to watch him this closely, as if you're privy to something you weren't meant to watch. Your gaze shifts between the way Prince Irus bandages your arm to the deep expression on his face. He does not appear to notice you watching him, so engrossed in what he's doing. When he is done, Prince Irus looks up at you, his eyes finding yours in the dimness of the room. "I know you said you didn't want my help," he says. "I am sorry." His fingers are still on your arm, and you feel the warmth of his skin seep into your own. <<set $no_band to 0>> [[♡"N-No," you stammer, as heat creeps up your neck. "It is fine."|chp1_62b_MCwound1][$no_band +=1, $flirt_shy +=5, $irusRom +=2]] [[♡"There is no need to apologise," you respond, enjoying his touch.|chp1_62b_MCwound1][$no_band +=2, $flirt_bold +=5, $irusRom +=2]] [["You do not need to apologise," you reply with a smile.|chp1_62b_MCwound1][$no_band +=3]] [[You frown, snatching your hand away from Prince Irus.|chp1_62b_MCwound1][$no_band +=4]] <</if>>

<<if $Irus_thanks is 1>> "You're welcome," you reply, smiling. Prince Irus' smile widens under your gaze and an amiable silence stretches between the both of you. He glances away, his attention on the fire before he speaks again. "When I reclaim my throne, I'll make certain to reward you," he says. <<set $IRUS_NIL to 0>> [["Make sure to pay me in gold and jewels," you reply, grinning.|chp1_62b_nil1][$IRUS_NIL +=1]] [[You laugh good-naturedly in response.|chp1_62b_nil1][$IRUS_NIL +=2]] <<elseif $Irus_thanks is 2>> "You're welcome," you respond, flushing under his gaze. His stare makes you look away, and you feel your heartbeat race. It thuds so loudly that you wonder if Prince Irus can hear it from where he sits. Swallowing, you find that your mouth is dry. Prince Irus lets out a small laugh, drawing your attention back onto him. You notice a glimmer of amusement in his eyes and your skin grows hot under his gaze. "If I knew that you would react this way, I would have thanked you much earlier," Prince Irus chuckles. The heat rises further in your cheeks and you try desperately to think of something witty to say. Your mind seems frozen as you watch the prince's lips form each word and your heart races faster than a drumbeat. His gaze sweeps over your face, seeming to linger on your eyes for longer than necessary and it's only then that you realize that you are staring directly into his. As soon as you snap out of your daze, you turn your head to the side. Your heart is still racing, though, and it feels like it might burst through your ribcage. "Thank you," Prince Irus repeats. <<set $IRUS_NIL to 0>> [["It was nothing," you mumble, flustered.|chp1_62b_nil1][$IRUS_NIL +=3]] [[You avert your gaze, not trusting your voice to answer him.|chp1_62b_nil1][$IRUS_NIL +=4]] <<elseif $Irus_thanks is 3>> "You are very welcome," you answer with a wink. Prince Irus blinks at you, before a burst of laughter spills from his mouth. His voice is low, a deep timbre that rumbles through your bones and sends tingles down your arms. His laughter seems to lighten his expression, removing any traces of worry or stress. Like this, you cannot deny his handsomeness. As if sensing your gaze, Prince Irus meets your eyes, and for a moment it seems as though you can see right into him; all your worries are erased by the warmth of those blue eyes. It's strange to feel comfortable enough to be able to do so, to enjoy his presence after everything that has happened. "Maybe I should place myself in danger more often," he teases. "I wouldn't mind having a saviour like you." <<set $IRUS_NIL to 0>> [["If I saved you again, I'd expect more than just a simple thank you," you respond, smirking.|chp1_62b_nil1][$IRUS_NIL +=5]] [[You trace your eyes along Prince Irus, imagining how he would thank you again.|chp1_62b_nil1][$IRUS_NIL +=6]] <<elseif $Irus_thanks is 4>> "It was really nothing," you answer with a shrug. Prince Irus nods, looking away from you. You placed yourself in the path of danger for him, and as nice as it is to have his gratitude, you're not one to dwell on it. You glance at the fire, the crackling flames sending smoke billowing towards the temple ceiling. The open windows, let the smoke filter out into the night's air. Exhaling deeply, you turn and catch Prince Irus' gaze on you once more. You raise an eyebrow questioningly. Prince Irus looks down, turning back to the flames. He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it again. He stares at the flames before speaking once more. "It wasn't nothing," he says. "You put yourself in danger for me." <<set $IRUS_NIL to 0>> [["Anyone would have done the same," you reply.|chp1_62b_nil1][$IRUS_NIL +=7]] [[You scowl in irritation. "Maybe you should learn how to protect yourself better in the future."|chp1_62b_nil1][$IRUS_NIL +=8]] <</if>>

<<if $woundClean_irus is 1>> You move towards where Prince Irus sits. This close, you can see the redness across his shoulder. The wound is not deep, nor is it life-threatening, but even so, you know it must be painful. You reach out, dipping a cloth into a wooden bowl of water. As wring the cloth, your eyes return to Prince Irus' shoulder. He still wears his shirt, as ruined as it is with his blood. The collar of his shirt is pulled down, but it is barely enough to clean the wound properly. You glance at Prince Irus' face, and find that he is staring stiffly at the fire. "You'll need to remove your shirt," you explain. Prince Irus turns, his mouth pulling into a frown. "Is it really necessary?" he asks, his frown deepening. "I cannot clean your wound properly with your shirt on," you reply. Prince Irus exhales, a long and tired sound. Returning his attention back to the fire, he hastily pulls off his shirt, tossing it to the side in a crumpled heap. You're greeted by the broad expanse of his back, his skin tanned and his muscles taut. <<set $wound_clean_reacIrus to 0>> [[♡You clean his wound gently, your heart racing.|chp1_62b2_2][$wound_clean_reacIrus +=1, $irusRom +=2, $flirt_shy +=5]] [[♡You clean his wound gently, admiring his broad shoulders.|chp1_62b2_2][$wound_clean_reacIrus +=2, $irusRom +=2, $flirt_bold +=5]] [[You clean his wound efficiently, unbothered by the sight of his exposed skin.|chp1_62b2_2][$wound_clean_reacIrus +=3]] [[You clean his wound with a frown, knowing the faster he's healed, the better the chance of your survival.|chp1_62b2_2][$wound_clean_reacIrus +=4]] <<elseif $no_clean_irus is 1>> "I won't," you answer softly." Prince Irus stares at you, his blue eyes moving along your face. You are uncertain what he sees, but he nods after a moment. Returning his attention back to his wound, you watch as Prince Irus wipes away the dried blood from his shoulder. From where you sit, you can tell that the wound is not so deep, but left untreated, it will begin to fester. "Pass me the paste," Prince Irus says. You blink, glancing at him. Prince Irus reaches out, his palm outstretched towards you. It takes you a moment to realise that he's waiting for the jar in your hand. You place the jar in his hand, your fingers brushing against his as you do. <<set $paste to 0>> [[♡You jerk back, your skin burning where it touched Prince Irus' hand.|chp1_62b2_2][$paste +=1, $irusRom +=2, $flirt_shy +=5]] [[♡You meet Prince Irus' eyes, not moving your hand away.|chp1_62b2_2][$paste +=2, $irusRom +=2, $flirt_bold +=5]] [[You draw your hand away, unfazed.|chp1_62b2_2][$paste +=3]] <<elseif $no_clean_irus is 2>> "I won't spill any," you answer. Prince Irus nods, glancing away from you. You watch as he wipes away at his wound, the rawness clear even from where you sit. Still, without any proper treatment, Prince Irus' wound will begin to fester. "Pass me the paste," Prince Irus says. You blink, glancing at him. Prince Irus reaches out, his palm outstretched towards you. It takes you a moment to realise that he's waiting for the jar in your hand. You place the jar in his hand, your fingers brushing against his as you do. <<set $paste to 0>> [[♡You jerk back, your skin burning where it touched Prince Irus' hand.|chp1_62b2_2][$paste +=1, $irusRom +=2, $flirt_shy +=5]] [[♡You meet Prince Irus' eyes, not moving your hand away.|chp1_62b2_2][$paste +=2, $irusRom +=2, $flirt_bold +=5]] [[You draw your hand away, unfazed.|chp1_62b2_2][$paste +=3]] <<elseif $no_clean_irus is 3>> "I'm not a fool," you huff. "I won't spill any." "I didn't call you a fool," Prince Irus mutters. "I just said to be careful." You let out a frustrated breath. The Prince only casts you a sharp look, before returning his attention onto his injured shoulder. The both of you sit in silence, as Prince Irus wipes away the dried blood against his wound. Even from where you sit, you can tell that his wound will fester if left untreated. "Hand me the paste," Prince Irus grunts. You blink, glancing at him. Prince Irus reaches out, his palm outstretched towards you. It takes you a moment to realise that he's waiting for the jar in your hand. You place the jar in his hand, your fingers brushing against his as you do. <<set $paste to 0>> [[♡You jerk back, your skin burning where it touched Prince Irus' hand.|chp1_62b2_2][$paste +=4, $irusRom +=2, $flirt_shy +=5]] [[♡You meet Prince Irus' eyes, not moving your hand away.|chp1_62b2_2][$paste +=5, $irusRom +=2, $flirt_bold +=5]] [[You draw your hand away, unfazed.|chp1_62b2_2][$paste +=3]] <</if>>

<<if $wound_clean_reacIrus is 1>> You wipe away the blood from Prince Irus' wound, your fingers gentle as you draw the cloth against the raw flesh. As you do, you feel the heat from his skin. Your heart hammers under your chest, your breath catching in your throat. You do not look up at Prince Irus' face, afraid that he might catch the way you gaze at him. Your cheeks are warm and your eyes are trained on Prince Irus' back. He is muscular and to deny that he is attractive would be a great falsehood. Prince Irus turns, his eyes finding yours in the glimmer of the firelight. It is hard to hear over the drumming of your heart, but you realise that Prince Irus' mouth is moving. You blink. "What's wrong, $name?" Prince Irus asks, with slight lilt to his voice. "Something catch your eye?" <<set $chp1_62b2_2 to 0>> [["What?" you splutter. "No. Nothing. Absolutely nothing."|chp1_62b2_3][$chp1_62b2_2 +=1, $irusRom +=3]] [["Nothing's wrong," you answer, smiling.|chp1_62b2_3][$chp1_62b2_2 +=2, $irusRom +=3]] [[You shake your head mutely, not trusting your voice.|chp1_62b2_3][$chp1_62b2_2 +=3, $irusRom +=3]] <<elseif $wound_clean_reacIrus is 2>> You wipe away the blood from Prince Irus' wound, your fingers gentle as you draw the cloth against the raw flesh. As you do, you feel the heat from his skin. Your eyes roam over his back, noticing the muscles beneath his skin. He is an attractive man and you cannot deny the allure of his handsomeness. Perhaps sensing your thoughts, or perhaps he could feel your stare, Prince Irus turns to look at you. Your gaze catches his in the glow of the firelight. "What's wrong, $name?" Prince Irus asks, with slight lilt to his voice. "Something catch your eye?" <<set $chp1_62b2_2 to 0>> [["Nothing much," you respond. "Just your very broad back."|chp1_62b2_3][$chp1_62b2_2 +=4, $irusRom +=3]] [["Yes, your back," you answer grinning.|chp1_62b2_3][$chp1_62b2_2 +=5, $irusRom +=3]] [[You tilt your head, your eyes moving over Prince Irus in response.|chp1_62b2_3][$chp1_62b2_2 +=6, $irusRom +=3]] <<elseif $wound_clean_reacIrus is 3>> You wipe away the blood from Prince Irus' wound, your fingers efficient as you draw the cloth against the raw flesh. The cloth comes away red, and you quickly dab at Prince Irus' wound, unbothered by his bared skin. As you do so, you note that Prince Irus is muscular. He must have received training in wielding a blade, before all of this. Prince Irus turns then, glancing at you. "Is everything alright?" he asks. <<set $chp1_62b2_2 to 0>> [["Yes," you answer with a smile.|chp1_62b2_3][$chp1_62b2_2 +=7]] [["Everything is fine," you reply.|chp1_62b2_3][$chp1_62b2_2 +=8]] [[You nod in response.|chp1_62b2_3][$chp1_62b2_2 +=9]] <<elseif $wound_clean_reacIrus is 4>> You work quickly, as you wipe away the blood from Prince Irus' wound. The cloth comes away red and you frown at the sight. The Prince is your only chance at surviving the dangers that await you on your journey. The faster he is healed, the better your chances against those who would see you dead. After all, you cannot take on the entire Blood Guard yourself. Prince Irus glances at you, his face impassive. "Are you done?" he asks. <<set $chp1_62b2_2 to 0>> [["Yes," you reply.|chp1_62b2_3][$chp1_62b2_2 +=10]] [["Yes," you mutter, rolling your eyes.|chp1_62b2_3][$chp1_62b2_2 +=11]] [[You grunt in assent, looking away.|chp1_62b2_3][$chp1_62b2_2 +=12]] <<elseif $paste is 1>> You jerk back, your skin burning where it touched Prince Irus' hand. Instantly, heat floods your face and meeting Prince Irus' eyes is difficult. You draw your hand back, clutching it tightly to your chest. Your heart thuds loudly. By the way Prince Irus raises his eyebrow at you, you suspect that he might be able to hear it too. Prince Irus glances at you, the corners of his lips tugging upwards. You do not know where to look. His eyes are too piercing and his smile too knowing. You settle for staring at the jar in his hand, hoping that you do not look as flushed as you feel. "What's the matter?" Prince Irus asks, a lilt in his voice. The firelight dances along his face, casting him in an orange glow. "Afraid of something?" <<set $no_clean_paste to 0>> [["N-No," you stammer. "What's there to be afraid of?"|chp1_62b2_3][$no_clean_paste +=1, $irusRom +=3]] [["Afraid? No, you're mistaken," you answer with a smile.|chp1_62b2_3][$no_clean_paste +=2, $irusRom +=3]] [[You shake your head in disagreement, unable to find your voice.|chp1_62b2_3][$no_clean_paste +=3, $irusRom +=3]] <<elseif $paste is 2>> You meet Prince Irus' eyes, not moving your hand away. His palm is warm against your fingers and for a moment, you both stare at each other. Your eyes scan Prince Irus' features. His staight nose, the way that his jawline is covered in light stubble. You wonder if Prince Irus is examining you too, the way you are of him. The flames of the fire flicker, casting an ember glow against Prince Irus' face. He is handsome, you think, enough to make his admirers swoon. Prince Irus' drags his eyes away from your face, towards where the jar sits between your hands. Without warning, he runs the pad of his thumb along the underside of your wrist. It sends a thrill down your spine. Just as quick as the touch had been, Prince Irus draws his hand away, a slight smile on his face. "If you wanted to hold my hand, you only had to ask," Prince Irus says. <<set $no_clean_paste to 0>> [["Well, I'll keep it in mind for next time," you reply, grinning.|chp1_62b2_3][$no_clean_paste +=4, $irusRom +=3]] [["Is that so?" you ask. "Perhaps next time it'll be more than just your hand that I'll be asking for."|chp1_62b2_3][$no_clean_paste +=5, $irusRom +=3]] [[You rest your chin in your palm, smirking in response.|chp1_62b2_3][$no_clean_paste +=6, $irusRom +=3]] <<elseif $paste is 3>> Prince Irus' skin is warm and calloused from where he has held the reigns of crown for so long. You pull your hand away, unfazed by his touch. Prince Irus nods in thanks, gazing at the jar in his hand. "Thanks," Prince Irus says. <<set $no_clean_paste to 0>> [["You're welcome," you reply with a smile.|chp1_62b2_3][$no_clean_paste +=7]] [["It's nothing," you answer, with a shrug.|chp1_62b2_3][$no_clean_paste +=8]] [[You nod in response.|chp1_62b2_3][$no_clean_paste +=9]] <<elseif $paste is 4>> You jerk back, your skin burning where it touched Prince Irus' hand. Prince Irus' eyes narrow, as they trace over your face. Despite the earlier frustration with the Prince, you find your skin growing warm under his gaze. You stare at your hand, your skin still tingling where it brushed against Prince Irus'. A sound of amusement escapes Prince Irus' lips, startling you. You swallow, feeling your heartbeat thudding loudly under your chest. What is wrong with you? Why is your body reacting this way to such a frustrating man? You look up and find Prince Irus watching you. The firelight casts an ember glow across his features. In that moment, you cannot deny that he is handsome. "Is something the matter?" Prince Irus taunts. <<set $no_clean_paste to 0>> [["It's nothing," you manage through pursed lips.|chp1_62b2_3][$no_clean_paste +=10, $irusRom +=3]] [["N-No," you stutter, averting your eyes.|chp1_62b2_3][$no_clean_paste +=11, $irusRom +=3]] [[You remain quiet, mistrustful of your voice.|chp1_62b2_3][$no_clean_paste +=12, $irusRom +=3]] <<elseif $paste is 5>> You meet Prince Irus' eyes, not moving your hand away. A surprised breath escapes Prince Irus' mouth as he stares at where your hands meet. Is it stubborness that keeps you from pulling away or is it because of the thrill that runs down your spine? When you meet Prince Irus' eyes, you find that his stare is piercing. Allowing your gaze to travel across Prince Irus' features, you take note of the piercing look he gives you and the light stubbble which cover his jaw. He is handsome, you think. The thought is unbidden and brings you to your senses. You begin to draw your hand away, but as you do, Prince Irus tightens his fingers around your wrist. Heat spreads through you and you're uncertain if it's from anger or something else entirely. "What's the matter?" Prince Irus taunts. "Afraid?" You pull your hand back, feeling unbalanced. <<set $no_clean_paste to 0>> [["Afraid?" you scoff. "You're not so intimidating."|chp1_62b2_3][$no_clean_paste +=13, $irusRom +=3]] [["I do not fear anything," you hiss.|chp1_62b2_3][$no_clean_paste +=14, $irusRom +=3]] [[You remain silent, your eyebrows furrowed and your mouth pressed into a scowl.|chp1_62b2_3][$no_clean_paste +=15, $irusRom +=3]] <</if>>

<<if $chp1_62b2_2 is 1>> "What?" you splutter. "No. Nothing. Absolutely nothing." Your voice comes out high-pitched and fast. It feels as if you're going to combust. Perhaps if you throw yourself into the fire now, it will save you the humiliation of facing Prince Irus? Your eyes find Prince Irus' once more. No. It is too late. By the way that his lips pull up into a smirk, you know that he has sensed your fluster. He turns, angling himself to face you fully. Seated like this, you are all too aware of just how close you are to him. "Are you certain?" Prince Irus asks, grinning now. "I would hate to make you feel uncomfortable." "You're not," you blurt. "I'm just- it's the heat from the fire." "The fire?" Prince Irus repeats, mirth in his gaze. "Yes," you answer. "Well, it seems like your wound's all clean. I'll just leave you to it." You do not meet Prince Irus' eyes as you scramble away from him. Thundering under your chest, your heartbeat is nearly deafening. You cannot face the Prince, so you move to the farthest side of the fire, staring at the walls of the temple instead. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $chp1_62b2_2 is 2>> "Nothing's wrong," you answer, smiling. Your smile feels forced and your cheeks hurt. You only hope that your expression is convincing and not deranged as you gaze at Prince Irus. The Prince, glances at your expression and a look of amusement flashes through his eyes. You want the ground to open up and swallow you whole. How can you escape this humiliation? Ogling a man while you're meant to be cleaning his wound is low, even for you. You turn your attention to how close you are seated to Prince Irus. It is hard to concentrate on smiling when you can feel the warmth of exuding from his skin. Prince Irus clears his throat, and you look up, caught staring. "There is no need to look so //concerned//, $name," Prince Irus says. "I am certain you cleaned the wound properly." "Right," you blurt. "The wound. It's clean." Prince Irus raises an eyebrow and you realise that your pitiful display has not gone unnoticed by the Prince. "Well, I'll just leave you to it," you say. You do not meet Prince Irus' eyes as you scramble away from him. Thundering under your chest, your heartbeat is nearly deafening. You cannot face the Prince, so you move to the farthest side of the fire, staring at the walls of the temple instead. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $chp1_62b2_2 is 3>> You shake your head mutely, not trusting your voice. When you make no move to answer Prince Irus, he turns slightly, angling himself to face you fully. This close, you can feel the heat exuding from his skin. Your own face warms and you struggle to meet the Prince's eyes. Prince Irus leans closer, and you nearly stumble back at the proximity between you both. "Are you sure that you're fine?" he asks, a slight smile tugging at his lips. You nod, your eyes wide as you stare at his face. "I think I can manage by myself for now," he says. Prince Irus draws away and you let out a small breath. As you scramble away from where the Prince sits, moving as far as you can from him, you hear Prince Irus speak to your retreating back. "If I do need any more //help//, I'll be certain to ask you, $name," he calls. You are only grateful that your face is turned away, so that he cannot witness your expression at his words. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $chp1_62b2_2 is 4>> "Nothing much," you respond. "Just your very broad back." "I see," he answers, a twinkle in his eyes. He turns around, to face you fully. Your eyes skim across Prince Irus' well-defined torso. Seated like this, you cannot help the grin on your lips as you gaze at him. He's angled slightly to the side, but that does not stop you from noticing his broad shoulders and toned arms. Prince Irus leans closer to you. You become aware of just how close he is to you. If you tilted your head slightly, there would be less than a hair's breadth between your lips. "If I knew you would be this appreciative of my back, I would have stripped off my shirt much sooner," Prince Irus purrs. You smile, the teasing tone of your voice filling the space between you. "Just your shirt?" A bark of laughter escapes his lips. It is a deep timbre, the sound reverberating through your bones. You move away from the Prince, satisfied that his wound will heal and even more pleased by his reaction to your teasing. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $chp1_62b2_2 is 5>> "Yes, your broad back," you answer grinning. "That so?" Prince Irus laughs. "Yes," you quip, returning his gaze. A bark of laughter escapes the Prince's lips. He turns, to look at you fully. Seated like this, you glimpse at his well-defined torso take into account the toned muscles of his arms. "I did not expect Ahlf's $heir to be this forward," Prince Irus states, amusement lingering in his eyes. You tilt your head, glancing up at him. This close, you notice the way his cheeks are flushed, from the heat of the fire or from your close proximity perhaps? If you shifted forward, there would be hardly a hair's breadth between the both of you. "There are many things that you do not know about me," you tease. Prince Irus' eyes find yours, a glimmer in them. "I look forward then to learning more about you." You smirk in response, before you draw away from the Prince, satisfied that his wound will heal and even more pleased by his reaction to your teasing. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $chp1_62b2_2 is 6>> You tilt your head, your eyes moving over Prince Irus in response. You let your gaze linger faintly on his well-defined torse taking note of his toned arms and broad shoulders. A slight smirk pulls up at your lips as Prince Irus' catches your gaze. He raises an eyebrow in response, before he turns to face you fully. Seated like this, you become aware of just how closely seated you are to each other. All it would take is a slight tilt of your head and your lips would be able to brush against his. "Did no one teach you that staring at a prince is considered offensive?" Prince Irus asks, his tone mirthful. You glance up at him, your eyes tracing over his lips, the bridge of his nose, before settling onto his eyes. "What if it is done in appreciation?" you ask. A bark of laugh escapes Prince Irus' lips. He shakes his head in response, his expression alight with amusement and something else entirely. It sends a thrill down your spine. "Then I'll allow it, this time," he answers. You grin, before you draw away from the Prince, satisfied that his wound will heal and even more pleased by his reaction to your teasing. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $chp1_62b2_2 is 7>> "Yes," you answer with a smile. You examine Prince Irus' wound. The blood is gone, and all that is left to do is dress the wound. You are satisfied that it will not fester. Prince Irus catches your gaze and you note the slight warmth in his gaze. He is not so bad, once you overcome your differences, you think. "Thank you, $name," Prince Irus replies. "I can take care of it from here." You nod and move away from the Prince. Taking a seat across from Prince Irus, you watch as he dresses his wound. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $chp1_62b2_2 is 8>> "Everything is fine," you reply. You examine Prince Irus' wound. The blood is gone, and all that is left to do is dress the wound. You are satisfied that it will not fester. Prince Irus catches your gaze and you note the slight warmth in his gaze. He is not so bad, once you overcome your differences, you think. "Thank you, $name," Prince Irus replies. "I can take care of it from here." You nod and move away from the Prince. Taking a seat across from Prince Irus, you watch as he dresses his wound. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $chp1_62b2_2 is 9>> You nod in response. His wound is free of any dried blood and you're satisfied that it will not fester. You catch Prince Irus' gaze and note the smile he casts you. "I can help dress it too," you offer. Prince Irus shakes his head, warmth in his voice when he speaks. "It's alright," he answers. "I can handle it from here." You nod and move away from the Prince. Taking a seat across from Prince Irus, you watch as he dresses his wound. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $chp1_62b2_2 is 10>> "Yes," you reply. You draw away from Prince Irus, knowing that at least he will not fester as you continue on your travels. The Prince nods at you, but does not speak as you take a seat across from him. The fire warms your bones and you barely glance at Prince Irus as he dresses his wound. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $chp1_62b2_2 is 11>> "Yes," you mutter, rolling your eyes. You hear Prince Irus sigh in irritation, before he jerks away from you. A frown finds your lips and you fight the urge to scoff. Drawing away, you move to the other side of the fire. Prince Irus does not speak to you, not even a wordless thanks. You let out a breath, knowing that at least his wound will not fester in your travels. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $chp1_62b2_2 is 12>> You grunt in assent, looking away. His wound is cleaned and you know that it will not fester on your travels. If Prince Irus is to meet his demise, it will be from his own stupidity and not from his wound. You move away from the Prince, taking a seat at the other side of the fire. It warms your skin and wards away the chill in your bones. Prince Irus does not speak to you, while he dresses his wound. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $no_clean_paste is 1>> "N-No," you stammer. "What is there to be afraid of?" You can still feel the contact of his skin on yours. Heat floods your face and you wish that you could disappear. Prince Irus grins at your response, his eyes alight with amusement as he gazes at you. You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry and your breathing feels choking. His grin widens and you find yourself unable to look away from him. You feel like your heart is going to burst right out of your chest. "You are right, $name," he replies. "What is there to be afraid of? After all, it is only you and me in this temple." "It's Crown," you blurt. Prince Irus' glances at the steed, resting in the corner. He raises an eyebrow at you, clearly amused. "Crown seems content to me," he replies. "The journey was hard on Crown. It was hard on all of us," you ramble. "It's probably my nerves. Right then, I'll just let you get back to it." You turn away, but not before you see the smirk on Prince Irus' face. Your heart races and your face feels hot. You are certain that you have not hidden your emotions quite as well as you had hoped. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $no_clean_paste is 2>> "Afraid? No, you're mistaken," you answer with a smile. Your heart thunders loudly in your chest. Does he notice that your smile is forced? It begins to hurt your cheeks and you glance away from Prince Irus' gaze, hoping that he does not see the way his touch had affected you. You struggle to maintain your breathing, but it is hard when you can feel Prince Irus' gaze burning into you. Looking up, you glance at his face and find that his lips are pulled into an amused smirk. He laughs at your expression and you feel the blood rush through your ears. "It seems so," Prince Irus replies, grinning. "You are very much not afraid." You hear the mocking in his voice, the way the low timbre rumbles with mirth at your expense. He must have noticed your fluster from the very start, no amount of smiling would have hidden your pitiful display. "Yes, I fear nothing," you reply, forcing out a laugh. Prince Irus watches you, his grin stretching. You shake your thoughts, and look away. "I'll just leave you to it then," you mumble. As you turn away from Prince Irus, you hear a light laugh escape his lips and your cheeks grow hot in humiliation. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $no_clean_paste is 3>> You shake your head in disagreement, unable to find your voice. You swallow, your mouth dry and your heartbeat thudding loudly under your chest. You can hear the drumming in your ears and hope that Prince Irus does not hear it too. By the way the Prince grins at you, you know that your silence is just as damning as it would have been if you had spoken. Prince Irus leans closer, his face only a hair's breadth away. If brushing up against his hand sent you spiralling like this, you are afraid of what might happen if he moves any closer. "It seems whatever frightened you, rendered you mute," Prince Irus murmurs, the amusement in his eyes betraying his words. "Perhaps if I-" He reaches out, his fingers moving towards your face. "No," you blurt. Prince Irus pauses, his eyebrow raising at you. "Ah, it seems as if I was mistaken, $name," he replies. "Forgive me for wanting to check." "It's fine," you stammer. "I'm not afraid. All is well. I'll just leave you to it." You turn away, your heart hammering and your breathing fast. As you do, Prince Irus' smirk does not escape you and you feel your face grow hot in embarrassment. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $no_clean_paste is 4>> "Well, I'll keep it in mind for next time," you reply, grinning. "Next time?" Prince Irus asks, a glint in his eyes. You examine his face, smiling when you catch a lazy smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. You still feel the heat of his thumb, against your wrist and you fight the urge to reach out and thread your fingers between his own. "If you would like there to be a next time," you reply, smiling. He looks at your face, his smile fading as his eyes wander over your features, lingering on the shape of your lips. There is an intensity in the way that he looks at you and the sight causes your stomach to coil in delight. "I suppose that can be arranged," he answers, his tone full of seriousness. You smile, pleased with his reaction and turn away from his gaze. "I'll leave you to it then," you reply, feeling his eyes on you. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $no_clean_paste is 5>> "Is that so?" you ask. "Perhaps next time it'll be more than just your hand that I'll be asking for." A bark of laughter escapes Prince Irus' mouth and he throws his head back, as the low timbre of his voice fills the air between you. You feel it deep in your bones, reverberating through your skin. It sends a thrill down your spine and you find your lips pulling into a wide grin. "Oh, and what might you ask for next?" Prince Irus challenges, amusement in his gaze. His blue eyes are alight with mischief and you feel your gut coil in delight. The sound of his voice alone is enough to set your blood ablaze with anticipation but the promise of your response drives the flames of desire even higher. You shift closer to him. A teasing smile graces your lips and you lower your voice in reply. "I could think of many things..." You run one hand up the arm of his coat, caressing his bicep with light, feathery touches before dropping your hand to rest on his chest. Prince Irus doesn't hesitate to capture your hand in his own. His touch is searing, but you do not pull away. Not before you offer him a smirk. "Perhaps we'll have to wait until your shoulder is healed," you murmur. "I would not want to hurt you, Prince Irus." Your words leave no doubt in his mind about what kind of damage you can cause. A slow smile spreads across his face and he tilts his head back again, allowing another chuckle to escape from his throat. Turning away, you leave Prince Irus to dress his wound, unable to help the satisfied smile that settles upon your lips. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $no_clean_paste is 6>> You rest your chin in your palm, smirking in response. Your eyes trace over Prince Irus' expression, the way his eyes glimmer with amusement and the way his lips pull into a grin to match your own. It sends a thrill of excitement down your spine and you fight the urge to shift closer to him. He catches your gaze on him, but you do not shy away from the way he looks at you. Your brazeness seems to amuse him, because Prince Irus shifts closer to you. Leaning forward, you can feel the heat of his breath against your face when he speaks. "I do not expect such boldness from a fisherman's $heir," Prince Irus replies, smirking. You don't respond, instead, you continue watching him, enjoying the way that his breath tickles your skin. When he notices that your eyes are still on him, he reaches out a finger to flick your nose. You flinch back slightly and laugh at the way the corners of his mouth turn upwards even further. "Boldness suits you, $name," he responds. A beat passes between you, the sound of the crackling flames in the background, the only noise as you look into each other's eyes. His lips curve upward ever so slightly more and you're certain that he knows what effect he has on you. You turn away, smiling widely as Prince Irus returns to dressing his wound. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $no_clean_paste is 7>> "You're welcome," you reply with a smile. A comfortable silence settles between the both of you and you watch as Prince Irus begins to dress his wound. You stretch your palms out, warming them against the flames. It wards away the chill in your bones and you let out a deep breath. Prince Irus catches your gaze above the firelight and he nods to you, in a wordless gesture of companionship. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $no_clean_paste is 8>> "It's nothing," you answer, with a shrug. Prince Irus nods in reply, as he begins to dress his wound with the paste. You turn your attention towards the fire, extending your hands out to warm them against the flames. It wards off the chill and you let out a deep sigh. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $no_clean_paste is 9>> You nod in response. Prince turns away from you and begins to dress his wound, using the paste. You turn your attention towards the fire, extending your hands out to warm them against the flames. It wards off the chill and you let out a deep sigh. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $no_clean_paste is 10>> "It's nothing," you manage through pursed lips. Prince Irus' smirk turns sly. He raises an eyebrow in challenge. Your cheeks burn. You frown at your reaction, not knowing what to make of it. "It's nothing," you repeat with a shrug, as if that somehow changes the truth. Prince Irus lets out a bark of laughter, his blue eyes twinkling with mirth like jewels under the night sky. A shiver runs down your spine and you purse your lips in response. You look away, your eyebrows furrowing at your response to Prince Irus. "I suppose it is nothing," Prince Irus murmurs. You catch the furtive glance he throws you, before you turn your gaze onto the fire. You will not look at him, no matter how how much your face warms and your breathing hitches. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $no_clean_paste is 11>> "N-No," you stutter, averting your eyes. Why is he even asking? It's not like it matters anyways. Your heart hammers loudly under your chest and you frown, wanting it to stop. Looking at the fire, you feel Prince Irus' gaze on you but you do not raise your eyes to meet his. The air in your lungs seems heavy, weighing heavily on your limbs as you try to force the tension out of your shoulders and back. You take a deep breath as the prince watches you. You look up just as his lips part. He pauses, then closes his mouth and shakes his head slightly. Whatever he meant to say remains unsaid. You bite your lower lip and watch as Prince Irus begins dressing his wound. A sigh leaves you, and you return your gaze onto the fire. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $no_clean_paste is 12>> You remain quiet, mistrustful of your voice. Your mind races and you feel slightly unsteady. Why are you reacting this way? It makes no sense. Perhaps the exhaustion of your travels have finally caught up to you? You swallow and find that your mouth has gone dry. Still, you do not speak and Prince Irus only gazes at you with a curious expression, as if doubting your reaction. You frown at him when your gazes meet. He tosses you an easy smile, before returning his attention to dressing his wound. A breath escapes you and you turn your attention to the fire before you. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $no_clean_paste is 13>> "Afraid?" you scoff. "You're not so intimidating." It doesn't escape your notice that he seems amused, if only just. He smiles wider and leans forward. The heat of his breath is almost too much for your nerves. Your skin prickles. "Maybe I'm not," he concedes, "but if it is not fear in your eyes, what else could it be?" He leans back with an exaggerated frown, looking at you through hooded eyes. "Do you find me attractive? Or is it more than that?" "There is nothing," you hiss. "You're mistaken." Prince Irus lets out a low laugh, the sound loud and reverberating through your bones. You look away, shivering. "So you say," Prince Irus responds. You remain silent after that, turning your attention onto the fire before you. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $no_clean_paste is 14>> "I do not fear anything," you hiss. Prince Irus laughs. He shifts forward until he is only a hair's breadth away from you. Your throat dries, your heart thumps a beat too fast. It feels too hot, even at this time in the night. The glow of the fire bathes you both in an orange glow. You stare at him, unrelenting in under his gaze. There is a lilt in his voice when he speaks again. "Everyone fears something, $name," Prince Irus says. "It's only a matter of whether you will be truthful about your fears or not." You swallow, your eyes darting towards the flames of the fire before you. It is warm and your heart thuds under your chest. A frown pulls at your lips and you shove away your odd feelings. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $no_clean_paste is 15>>ROM BOLD You remain silent, your eyebrows furrowed and your mouth pressed into a scowl. Turning your attention towards the fire, you try to rid yourself of the feeling of the Prince's fingers. His touch had been warm and it left you reeling with unsaid feelings. Prince Irus chuckles under his breath and you frown, narrowing your eyes at him. He catches your eyes on him and his laughter slows, until he smirks at you. "Come now," Prince Irus drawls. "There is no need for silence." "What would you have me say then?" you scoff. "I am not afraid, Prince Irus, regardless of what you may think." The corners of the Prince's lips twitch and you know he wants to smile but doesn't. It's almost comical how much effort he puts into keeping up appearances. The two of you don't speak again; your eyes flitting back and forth between each other as the flames blaze in front of you. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <</if>>

As you gaze at the flames of the fire, Prince Irus clears his throat, drawing your attention onto him. In the glow of the fire, his face seems almost otherworldly. "I am sorry about your home," he says. "I didn't expect the Blood Guard to have destroyed everything when they were searching for me." The memories of the fire and smoke come rushing back and you let out a breath. <<if $BGreac is 1>> The sight of Salt Bay on fire had left you horrified at the carnage all around you. <<elseif $BGreac is 2>>The sight of Salt Bay on fire had left you grief-stricken by the carnage all around you. <<elseif $BGreac is 3>>The sight of Salt Bay on fire had left you grief-stricken by the carnage all around you. <<elseif $BGreac is 4>>The sight of Salt Bay on fire had left you numb to the carnage all around you. <<elseif $BGreac is 5>> The sight of Salt Bay on fire had left you raging in the face of the carnage all around you. <</if>> It has been a few days since then and you feel... <<set $SB_destroy to 0>> [[...saddened by the destruction of the home you have grown up in.|chp1_62_1][$SB_destroy +=1]] [[...numb by the destruction of the home you have grown up in.|chp1_62_1][$SB_destroy +=2]] [[...angry by the destruction of the home you have grown up in.|chp1_62_1][$SB_destroy +=3]] [[...horrified by the destruction of the home you have grown up in.|chp1_62_1][$SB_destroy +=4]]

<<if $response_62b2 is 1>> You flush, feeling heat creep up your neck. Beneath your chest, your heart thuds loudly, like the thundering hooves of a horse. You wonder if Prince Irus can hear it, seated so closely to you. Your mouth grows dry and you pull your bandaged arm away from Prince Irus' hold. "Thank you," you murmur, not meeting his eyes. It is too warm, you think. Perhaps it is the fire, or perhaps it is the way that Prince Irus continues to watch you. You do not want to meet his gaze, afraid of what you might see in them or worse, what he might see in yours. "Of course." Prince Irus' voice is soft, barely audible over the crackling flames. It makes his tone sound almost vulnerable, as though he is speaking for your ears alone. His hand brushes yours, just for a moment before he withdraws. You let out a sharp breath, when Prince Irus leans closer, his blue eyes alight with something akin to amusement. "Does it still hurt?" he asks. <<set $bandage_reply to 0>> [["No," you blurt. "My arm's fine, thank you."|chp1_62b_MCwound2][$bandage_reply +=1, $irusRom +=3]] [[You shake your head, afraid to trust your own voice.|chp1_62b_MCwound2][$bandage_reply +=2, $irusRom +=3]] <<elseif $response_62b2 is 2>> You hold his gaze, enticed by his touch on your skin. His fingers are warm, as they rest against your skin. It sends a thrill down your spine and you relish in the feeling. The warmth spreads from the tips of his fingertips across your skin, sending tingles down your arms. You wonder if the blood rushing into your cheeks is due to the cold or just excitement. "Thank you," you say, after a moment. Prince Irus smiles, the gesture causing his eyes to glimmer with something more than just amusement. When you do not look away, Prince Irus' smile widens and you feel the pads of his fingers, tracing unknown patterns along your hand. "It was my pleasure," he responds. He releases his grip on your arm, and you mourn the loss of his touch. Prince Irus lets his eyes trace over your features, for a moment, lingering on the shape of your lips. Your breathing hitches and you instinctively lean closer. A flicker of interest flashes through his eyes, before a smirk settles on his lips. "Why do you look so sad?" he teases. <<set $bandage_reply to 0>> [["Perhaps I wanted to hold your hand a little longer," you respond, grinning.|chp1_62b_MCwound2][$bandage_reply +=3, $irusRom +=3]] [[You tilt your head, grinning in response as your eyes move over his face.|chp1_62b_MCwound2][$bandage_reply +=4, $irusRom +=3]] <<elseif $response_62b2 is 3>> You draw your hand away, grateful for his help. Examining the bandange, you note that Prince Irus was thorough, in wrapping your wound. Looking up at his face, you find that he is already watching you. "Thank you," you say. "You didn't have to do this." Prince Irus shrugs, but there is a warmth in his expression when he speaks, "It's the least that I could have done after what you did for me." <<set $bandage_reply to 0>> [["Does that mean you'll reward me with riches and gold?" you laugh.|chp1_62b_MCwound2][$bandage_reply +=5]] [[You punch Prince Irus' shoulder good-naturedly.|chp1_62b_MCwound2][$bandage_reply +=6]] <<elseif $response_62b2 is 4>> You snatch your hand away, not wanting to linger in his hold. Prince Irus frowns at you, as you pull away, but he does not say anything more. You examine your arm, the bandage wrapped neatly around your wound. It does not hurt as much as it had been before. Glancing up at Prince Irus, you note the way he avoids your eyes. <<set $bandage_reply to 0>> [["Thanks," you manage.|chp1_62b_MCwound2][$bandage_reply +=7]] [[You shrug, turning away.|chp1_62b_MCwound2][$bandage_reply +=8]] <<elseif $no_band is 1>> "N-No," you stammer, as heat creeps up your neck. "It is fine." You look away from Prince Irus' piercing gaze, your heartbeat racing under your chest. Instead, your eyes shift to where his fingers still linger against your skin. You shiver and draw your hand back, still feeling the contact of his touch on you. Your skin tingles and you struggle to regain control of your breathing. Looking up, you fing Prince Irus watching you with a small smile. There is a hint of amusement in his gaze as he examines your face. You suddenly feel too hot, too exposed under his stare. "Are you certain?" Prince Irus asks. "You look a little feverish." <<set $noband_reply to 0>> [["I'm fine," you blurt, flustered by his proximty.|chp1_62b_MCwound2][$noband_reply +=1, $irusRom +=3]] [[You shake your head in disagreement, distrusting your voice.|chp1_62b_MCwound2][$noband_reply +=2, $irusRom +=3]] <<elseif $no_band is 2>> "There is no need to apologise," you respond, enjoying his touch. Prince Irus glances at you, his eyes flashing with interest. You watch as his blue eyes trail over your face, drinking in your features before they settle on the curve of your lips. It sends a warm thrill down your spine and you resist the urge to lean closer. He runs his fingers across the underside of your wrist, his touch scorching against your skin. But you do not pull away, instead basking in the feel of his fingers on your skin. It lasts only for a moment, before he draws his hand away, your skin still tingling from the contact. "I am pleased then," he answers, his lips slanted into a smirk. His voice is soft, intimate in its proximity. Prince Irus is seated beside you, but it feels as if he is too far. You shift closer to him, relishing in the way his gaze finds yours. "Oh, does something else hurt?" he asks. <<set $noband_reply to 0>> [["If I say yes, will you kiss it better?" you ask, grinning.|chp1_62b_MCwound2][$noband_reply +=3, $irusRom +=3]] [[You tilt your head, tapping your lips in response.|chp1_62b_MCwound2][$noband_reply +=4, $irusRom +=3]] <<elseif $no_band is 3>> "You do not need to apologise," you reply with a smile. Drawing your hand away, you inspect the bandage wrapped neatly around your arm. You wound does not throb as much as it had earlier and you glance up at Prince Irus, grateful for his help. "Thank you," you say. Prince Irus shrugs, grinning at you. "It's the least I could do for your heroics." <<set $noband_reply to 0>> [["Does this mean that you'll make me your personal knight?" you ask.|chp1_62b_MCwound2][$noband_reply +=5]] [[You laugh in response.|chp1_62b_MCwound2][$noband_reply +=6]] <<elseif $no_band is 4>> You frown, snatching your hand away from Prince Irus. Inspecting your bandaged arm, you note that it is at least neat. Your eyes find Prince Irus' and you notice the frown on his lips at your reaction. "I truly am sorry," he says, after a moment. You let out a breath. <<set $noband_reply to 0>> [["It's fine," you mutter. "Just don't do it again."|chp1_62b_MCwound2][$noband_reply +=7]] [[You scoff, turning away from Prince Irus.|chp1_62b_MCwound2][$noband_reply +=8]] <</if>>

<<if $bandage_reply is 1>> "No," you blurt. "My arm's fine, thank you." Your words come out fast and clipped. It is hard to breathe, hard to look at Prince Irus when you know that there is a smirk on his lips. You swallow, your mouth dry and your skin aflame. You hope that the dimness of the chamber hides your embarrassment, but when you muster the courage to look up at Prince Irus, you know that he has seen your flustered response. His smirk widens, when your gazes meet and you suddenly want to throw yourself into the fire, to escape his stare. Turning away, you look at anything but Prince Irus. The fire dances across the walls like some sort of living thing, licking hungrily at the wood. It sends shadows dancing around the room, moving like some kind of living creature. You force yourself to focus on them, ignoring the way your heart pounds against your chest. "Are you quite certain?" Prince Irus questions. "I can always check your arm again-" "No," you interrupt, your voice shrill and your breathing too fast. "It's fine. Truly." A chuckle escapes Prince Irus' lips and the sound sends a shiver down your spine. "As you say," he answers, before moving to sit on the other side of the fire. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $bandage_reply is 2>> You shake your head, afraid to trust your own voice. His hand closes over yours again and he squeezes gently once more before letting go completely. You feel as though the heat from him has seared through your skin, despite how cold it feels. Your mind races, trying to come up with some excuse that will get you out of this situation. But your voice does not obey you and you sit there, staring at Prince Irus like a gaping fish. Your fingers are trembling and your breathing comes out fast. You want to disappear and for a second, consider flinging yourself into the flames. "Is the pain too unbearable?" Prince Irus asks. There is a glint of amuesment in his eyes. "Has it rendered you mute?" Your eyes widen and you manage a weak, "No." A grin settles across Prince Irus' lips and you feel yourself quaking under his gaze. Flustered, you turn away, looking at anything other than the Prince. But there is nothing but a sea of flames ahead of you. The roaring fire casts dancing shadows across your vision, obscuring everything around you. "I could kiss it better-" "No," you interrupt, your face hot and your voice shrill. Prince Irus laughs at your response before shrugging at you. "It was worth a try," he chuckles before moving to sit on the other side of the fire. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $bandage_reply is 3>> "Perhaps I wanted to hold your hand a little longer," you respond, grinning. A bark of laughter escapes Prince Irus' mouth, the sound a low timbre that sends shivers down your spine. When he turns to look at you, his gaze is full of mirth. He reaches out with his hand, pinching your cheek lightly. His touch leaves a trail of warmth in its wake and you resist the urge to close your eyes. "I am flattered," Prince Irus chuckles. His voice is low and husky. "But we both know that you are not really sad, $name." "Pity," you reply, smiling. "If I knew this is how you'd react if I was sad, I would have wept instead." His grin stretches into something softer, and you cannot help but stare back at him. The feeling in your stomach is pleasant and unfamiliar, but you bask in its grip. "You do not need to cry," Prince Irus laughs. "If you want to hold my hand, all you have to do is ask." "Perhaps I will," you respond, smirking. Prince Irus chuckles, before he shakes his head at you. You watch his back as he moves to sit across from you, on the other side of the fire once more. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $bandage_reply is 4>> You tilt your head, grinning in response as your eyes move over his face. Your eyes move over his face, the arch of his eyebrows, the smoothness of his skin, before settling on the outline of his lips. He is handsome, you think. Even in a room full of art and jewels, you would not be able to look away from him. He notices the way your gaze lingers on him, his brows raising slightly in amusement at your expression. His grin grows as he leans forward, his breath brushing against your face as he speaks. "You're not going to speak, are you?" Prince Irus asks, grinning. "Oh? And what would you like me to say?" you question. His eyes twinkle and he reaches out, gently taking your chin between his finger and thumb. You let out a breath at the gentle pressure. "Say something interesting," he replies, smiling. "I'm afraid that I have nothing interesting to say," you tease. His chuckle in response reverberates through your chest, tickling at your skin with goose pimples. You shudder in delight, enjoying the easy teasing, the unguarded flirting between the two of you. "Perhaps I seek too much from a fisherman's $heir," Prince Irus laughs, before he moves to sit across from you again. You meet his gaze over the firelight and feel your skin flush. Yes, you've quite enjoyed the flirting, you muse. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $bandage_reply is 5>> "Does that mean you'll reward me with riches and gold?" you laugh. Prince Irus matches your light-hearted grin with his own and you find that there is amusement in his gaze. He leans back, running a hand through his golden hair before casting you a wry grin. "I'm afraid that I have no riches or gold to reward you, $name," he explains. "Being exiled means being as poor as a fisherman's $heir." You huff out a laugh, "You could offer me Crown." Prince Irus narrows his eyes playfully at you. "Crown? Never. He's not for trade. He's my loyal friend." "So you keep saying," you respond, with a grin. "How about this, when I reclaim my rightful place in Cyre, I'll reward you with as much gold as you want," he offers. You nod, smirking at him. "Very well, I shall hold you to your word." Prince Irus laughs, before he moves to sit on the other side of the fire. The tension in your shoulders have eased and all that is left is an easy camaraderie. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $bandage_reply is 6>> You punch Prince Irus' shoulder good-naturedly. He lets out a yell, but it is one of amusement and not pain. You doubt you could hurt him, in the state of exhaustion that you are. Prince Irus rubs at the spot where you punched him and throws you a sidelong glance. "Where was this ferocity when we went up against the Blood Guard?" he teases. "It went away after I sustained a battle wound," you answer, waving your bandaged arm. "Battle wound," Prince Irus repeats, biting back a laugh. "I suppose to you it would be a battle." You frown at Prince Irus. "What, do you think that I haven't been in battles before?" "Have you?" Prince Irus asks, raising his eyebrows. "I mean if you consider going up against an angry swordfish while out fishing then yes, I have been in battles before," you respond. Your answer elicits a loud laugh from Prince Irus. It is the first time since you've both had to flee that his expression is not weighed down with worry and exhaustion. You find your own lips quirking into a grin as the easy camaraderie fills the space between you. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $bandage_reply is 7>> "Thanks," you manage. Prince Irus raises his blue eyes to meet yours, as if surprised by your words. You make a face before turning your attention back to the fire. Despite your earlier frustration, you find that your restlessness has settled slightly. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $bandage_reply is 8>> You shrug, turning away. Prince Irus lets out a tired sigh, but does not say anything to you as he moves to sit on the other side of the fire. You glance at your bandaged arm, noting the careful way that Prince Irus had wrapped your wound. It will not fester and that it what is most important. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $noband_reply is 1>> "I'm fine," you blurt, flustered by his proximty. Prince Irus leans closer and you cannot help but shrink back from him, afraid that he will hear your thundering heartbeat. Pausing, Prince Irus raises an eyebrow at you. Amusement flickers through his blue eyes and you shudder, looking away from the intensity that lies in his stare. His voice is warm, soft when he speaks again. You feel his breath brush against your face. "Are you quite certain?" he asks, raising his hand to press it against your very warm forehead. "Your skin is hot to the touch." You raise your eyes, your skin aflame as you look up at Prince Irus. His lips are quirked into a smirk, and you suddenly wish you could disappear. The corner of his mouth lifts in a knowing grin. He reaches out slowly, his long pale fingers brushing against the side of your face. Heat spreads across your cheeks and down your body, making the warmth within you throb with want. Your heart pounds wildly in your chest, making your pulse pound in your ears. "Yes," you mumble, feeling unbalanced. Prince Irus draws his hand away, grinning at you. "As you say." [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $noband_reply is 2>> You shake your head in disagreement, distrusting your voice. How can you trust your voice when you are certain that it will betray you? You shudder under Prince Irus' gaze, as he raises his palm and presses it against your forehead. His touch is cool, soothing to your flushed skin. "You feel feverish," he comments, a smile in his voice. Your heart races loudly in your chest and you wonder if he can hear it, ready to burst out. You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry and your expression flustered. Drawing away from his hand, you avert your gaze, looking at anything but Prince Irus. "I am fine," you mumble. "Just a little hot." Prince Irus lets out a soft sound, which sounds almost like laughter. It is not unkind, but you are certain that he is amused by your pitiful display. "I suppose you are seated too close to the fire," he replies, smirking at you. "Right," you blurt. "The fire." Prince Irus smirks at your flustered response, but does not say anything more. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $noband_reply is 3>> "If I say yes, will you kiss it better?" you ask, grinning. A bark of laughter escapes Prince Irus' mouth, the sound is deep and sends a thrill down your spine. You shudder, enjoying the way his eyes finds yours, a glint of mischief in his gaze. "I think I have some other ideas," he whispers, leaning closer still until his breath ghosting across your face. The heat in your stomach grows, and your chest tightens with an ache that makes you want to throw yourself at him. You close your eyes, unable to resist as you lean towards him. But whatever you expect, it does not come. Prince Irus runs the pad of his thumb, across your cheek. It leaves your skin ablaze and your eyes flutter open. You stare up at the prince, feeling as if his gaze has stolen all the air from the room. His gaze is dark, filled with unspoken promises. He meets your eyes and smiles. "Perhaps we should wait until you are healed first," he says. "I would not want to hurt you further." "Are you certain? It may take time to heal," you respond, your voice low. Prince Irus chuckles, "I can wait, $name." You make a face, frowning. He might be able to wait, but you're uncertain if you can. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $noband_reply is 4>> You tilt your head, tapping your lips in response. Prince Irus follows the trail of your fingers, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. Your skin flushes with heat, as he shifts closer, leaning towards you. This close, you are able to examine his features in more detail. The way the firelight dances across his eyes and the way his lips seem so soft. You glance up at Prince Irus, finding his eyes already on your own. You shudder, feeling anticipation building in the pit of your stomach, threatening to overtake your thoughts. Prince Irus reaches out, his palm grasping your chin in his hold. His skin is hot and you smile at him. A soft sound, like laughter, but more intimate, escapes his mouth. You shiver, as you meet his eyes in the dimness of the room. "I do not think I could bandage your lips," Prince Irus teases. You frown and your response seems to cause great amusement to Prince Irus. He laughs, running his thumb across your lower lip before withdrawing his touch altogether. "What are you doing?" you ask. "Oh, were you expecting something else?" Prince Irus questions, with a wide smirk. "I am afraid to disappoint you, $name." You huff, your skin tingling from where he had touched you. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $noband_reply is 5>> "Does this mean that you'll make me your personal knight?" you ask. Prince Irus chuckles, the sound filling the air with his booming voice. You watch his expression, the way his smile makes him look younger and less stressed. You suppose that before all of this, he must have been happier, more carefree. "I would not go that far," Prince Irus replies, with a wide grin. "Why not?" you ask. "I threw myself in front of you to save your life. Is that not what a personal knight does?" Prince Irus meets your gaze, his filled with mirth. "Perhaps, but you still needed //my// help." You wave your hand, "It's not important. What's important is that I deserve some sort of reward for my bravery." "I'm afraid that all I can offer you is a ride in the saddle with Crown," Prince Irus chuckles. You make a face at the Prince, smiling when you see the way he laughs in response. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $noband_reply is 6>> You laugh in response. It is a carefree sound and soon, Prince Irus joins in. The tension eases, and you find yourselves sitting amiable silence. Looking at Prince Irus now, you notice the lighter expression he wears. It makes him look years younger and you wonder what he must have been like before all of this. "I am hardly heroic," you say. Prince Irus shrugs, "You threw yourself in the path of danger for me. I'd say that's very heroic." You huff out a laugh, "Fine. I will not argue with that." [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $noband_reply is 7>> "It's fine," you mutter. "Just don't do it again." Prince Irus nods, looking away from you with a frown. You do not speak, the silence weighing between the both of you. You examine your arm, once more, grateful that the throbbing has eased somewhat. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <<elseif $noband_reply is 8>> You scoff, turning away from Prince Irus. Prince Irus lets out a breath, before he moves away from where you sit. You do not pay him attention, instead focussing your gaze onto the flickering flames before you. [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]] <</if>>

<<if $IRUS_NIL is 1>> "Make sure to pay me in gold and jewels," you reply, grinning. Prince Irus laughs loudly, his gaze full of amusement as they find yours in the glow of the fire. "Just gold and jewels?" he teases. You smile wider, glancing at him. "What else do you propose to offer me? A castle? An entire kingdom?" You lean back, grinning at his mirthful expression. Prince Irus chuckles at you, gesturing to himself. "I'm a prince," he says. "I can offer you anything you would like." "Oh?" you reply, laughing. "Perhaps I'll think on it." Another burst of laughter escapes his lips, as Prince Irus shakes his head at you fondly. You smile in response, allowing your eyes to return to the fire once more. <<elseif $IRUS_NIL is 2>> You laugh good-naturedly in response. You'd never expect royalty to be so considerate, let alone offer anything for it. "That's kind of you," you admit. "But you don't have to do that." Prince Irus nods thoughtfully and his expression shifts into something more serious. "I know," he admits, turning back to look at you. "But I want to." You offer him a smile, finding that his own lips quirk up in response. Perhaps Prince Irus is serious, or perhaps it is just words spoken without a thought on how he'd even reward you. Still, the sincerity in his tone and the softness of his smile makes you want to believe that he will repay you. <<elseif $IRUS_NIL is 3>> "It was nothing," you mumble, flustered. Your voice comes out higher than normal and you feel your skin grow hot. It is hard to look directly into Prince Irus' eyes, so instead, you look at his straight nose, his sharp jawline and the fullness of his lips. Instantly, your heartbeat begins to gallop under your chest. You turn away, struggling to breathe. Looking at his mouth was a bad idea, you think. Instead, you turn your gaze onto the fire. The flames crackle and you hope that the dimness of the room is enough to hide your flustered expression. Your attention is drawn towards Prince Irus, when he shifts closer to you. "It was not nothing, $name," he breathes. "I am indebted to you. Just name your price, and I will be certain to pay." You can barely breathe, half-choking as you splutter in response. It seems that your reaction is exactly what Prince Irus had hoped for, because a flicker of amusement flashes through his blue eyes. You look away, wanting to disappear. <<elseif $IRUS_NIL is 4>> You avert your gaze, not trusting your voice to answer him. How can you answer him when your lungs feel ready to burst and your stomach twists with nerves? You cannot meet Prince Irus' gaze, but you can feel him staring at you. Instead, you stare at the fire, crackling with flames. You swallow, your mouth dry and your heartbeat galloping under your chest. It is too hot and your palms feel clammy at your sides. A chuckle escapes Prince Irus' lips and you turn to gaze up at him, feeling your face grow warmer under his gaze. Despite his exhaustion, despite the stress, you cannot help but balk at his handsomeness. Prince Irus seems to notice your stare and he grins at you. "Oh? See something you like?" he teases. You shiver, opening your mouth then closing it. Turning away, you manage a feeble, "It's nothing." The only response you receive is a low laugh, filled with amusement. <<elseif $IRUS_NIL is 5>> "If I saved you again, I'd expect more than just a simple thank you," you respond, smirking. A rumble of laughter fills the air, and you find Prince Irus' expression filled with amusement as he gazes at you. You raise an eyebrow at him, your grin widening. "Oh? And what would you have in mind, $name?" he asks. Your eyes shift towards the shape of his lips, tracing over his features languidly. Prince Irus' smile softens, the amusement easing into something far more intimate. It sends a thrill down your spine and the space between you seems too far. "I have a few ideas in mind," you reply, smirking. "But you'll have to wait to see what it is." Another chuckle escapes Prince Irus' mouth and you find yourself looking forward to acting on your ideas. <<elseif $IRUS_NIL is 6>> You trace your eyes along Prince Irus, imagining how he would thank you again. He is tall and muscular, and you let your gaze linger over his broad shoulders and toned arms. You imagine what it would feel like to be within his hold. A chuckle escapes Prince Irus' mouth and you raise your eyes to meet his. "My eyes are up here," he laughs, gesturing to his face. You grin wider. "Oh, I wasn't looking at your eyes." Prince Irus shakes his head, his own smile filled with amusement. There is a handsomeness in the way that he smiles, it draws away the stress from your travels and leaves him light. You gaze at his features, his straight nose and full lips and find yourself aching to draw closer. "I didn't expect you to be this bold," Prince Irus replies. "I can be bolder," you tease. "Just say the word." Another laugh escapes Prince Irus' mouth, the sound reverberating through your chest. He does not respond to you, but he does not need to. Whatever you had hoped to achieve with your flirting, it seems that it had its desired effect on Prince Irus. <<elseif $IRUS_NIL is 7>> "Anyone would have done the same," you reply. You're not quite certain how true your words are. After all, when the Blood Guard are sent after you, not many would get in the way to stop it. Prince Irus lets out a breath, and you glance up, finding his expression sombre. "We both know that is not true," he answers. You sigh, "There is no use dwelling on it now. You are still alive and we escaped the Blood Guard." Prince nods, "I suppose so." Silence falls between the both of you, and you turn your eyes onto the flickering flames once more. <<elseif $IRUS_NIL is 8>> You scowl in irritation. "Maybe you should learn how to protect yourself better in the future." Prince Irus frowns at you, his blue eyes narrowing. "I only wanted to thank you," he mutters. "Thank me by defending yourself next time," you huff. "You might be a prince, but you're in exile now. No one is going to throw themselves in danger for you anymore." Prince Irus looks as if he wants to say something, but after a moment, he sighs and averts his gaze. Your words were harsh, but there is truth in them. After all, no one is going to place themselves between Prince Irus and the Blood Guard, especially when he has nothing to give in return. <</if>> [[Next.|chp1_62b_pre]]

<<if $SB_destroy is 1>> You are saddened by the destruction of Salt Bay, and after a few days, the weight of the loss is hard to forget. <<elseif $SB_destroy is 2>> You are numb, uncertain why you do not feel sad or angry about the loss of Salt Bay. Perhaps you do not care or perhaps you still need time to process the destruction of Salt Bay. <<elseif $SB_destroy is 3>> You are angry, raging even by the destruction of Salt Bay. The entire hamlet was destroyed, all because the Blood Guard did not care about the lives lost. <<elseif $SB_destroy is 4>> You are horrified, by the destruction of Salt Bay, knowing that the Blood Guard were ruthless in their actions of murdering any who crossed their paths. <</if>> Gazing up at Prince Irus, you know that Salt Bay could have been spared its fate if the Blood Guard had not come to the hamlet in search of Prince Irus. <<set $chp62_1 to 0>> [["It's not your fault," you say. "The Blood Guard is responsible for what happened in Salt Bay."|chp1_62_2][$chp62_1 +=1, $irusRel +=1]] [["It's true that you being in Salt Bay meant that the Blood Guard found Salt Bay, but you are not responsible for their actions," you reply.|chp1_62_2][$chp62_1 +=2, $irusRel +=1]] [["Salt Bay would still be standing, if you hadn't come," you mutter.|chp1_62_2][$chp62_1 +=3, $irusRel -=1]] [["It doesn't matter whose fault it is," you say. "What matters is getting to safety."|chp1_62_2][$chp62_1 +=4, $irusRel +=1]]

<<if $chp62_1 is 1>> "It's not your fault," you say. "The Blood Guard is responsible for what happened in Salt Bay. Prince Irus meets your gaze, a look of gratitude in his eyes. "I hope that you are right," he murmurs. "I never wanted to cause the deaths of so many." You offer a smile, hoping that it comforts the Prince. "The Blood Guard have a way of destroying things, no matter what the circumstance. Do not blame yourself, Prince Irus." <<elseif $chp62_1 is 2>> "It's true that you being in Salt Bay meant that the Blood Guard found Salt Bay, but you are not responsible for their actions," you reply. Prince Irus exhales, his breath shaky as he glances at you. There is sorrow in his blue eyes and you feel a twinge of sympathy for him. "I feel like it is still my fault," he sighs. "If only I hadn't stopped to meet your father, he would still be alive." You look away, "We can't know if that is true. But you must not blame yourself for the Blood Guard. They have a way of destroying things, regardless of the circumstances." <<elseif $chp62_1 is 3>> "Salt Bay would still be standing, if you hadn't come," you mutter. Prince Irus' eyes fill with regret, your words cutting deeply into him. He looks away from you, his fingers playing with the edge of his shirt. "You are right," he sighes. "It is my fault. I should never have come to Salt Bay. For that, I am sorry $name." You do not reply, what would you say? Yelling at Prince Irus will not bring back Salt Bay, or those who were slaughtered by the Blood Guard. <<elseif $chp62_1 is 4>> "It doesn't matter whose fault it is," you say. "What matters is getting to safety." Prince Irus sighs, running a hand through his hair. It leaves the blond curls mussed and tangled. When he glances at you, there is regret in his gaze. "It feels wrong that I escaped, when I know that the rest of those in Salt Bay could not," he murmurs. "Dwelling on what happened will not help," you answer. "It will only slow you down. You cannot change what happened, but you can change how you act in the face of adversity." Prince Irus nods, thoughtful. "You are right, $name." <</if>> [[Next.|chp1_62_3]]

Silence settles over the both of you. Glancing at the fire, you notice that the flames have slowly begun to die. It is late and when you look through the windows of the temple walls, you notice the moon has shifted its position in the sky. You look at Prince Irus, and find him staring at the temple walls in slight disdain. "You do not believe in the Ancient Ones?" you ask. Prince Irus blinks, startled by your voice. When he meets your gaze, he shrugs, a slight frown on his lips. "I do not believe in any god," he replies. <<set $chp1_62_3 to 0>> [["Not even Solus?" you ask.|chp1_62_4][$chp1_62_3 +=1]] [["Why do you not believe in the gods?" you question.|chp1_62_4][$chp1_62_3 +=2]] [["But King Erlan was a follower of Solus," you say.|chp1_62_4][$chp1_62_3 +=3]]

<<if $chp1_62_3 is 1>> "Not even Solus?" you ask. Prince Irus scoffs, the sound full of derision. "Not even Solus." "But-" "But what? My father was a believer? Look at where that's got him," Prince Irus mutters. "A murderous group that destroys everything in their path and a brother who will use them for his own ends." There is a vehemence in his tone, one that finds its way into his blue eyes. "Of course it disappointed my father," Prince Irus sighs. "Imagine a son who refused to follow a god you built your kingdom on." <<elseif $chp1_62_3 is 2>> "Why do you not believe in the gods?" you question. "Why should I?" Prince Irus scoffs. "The gods have only caused endless wars and territory disputes. Look at what happened to my father. For all the bluster about Solus, he still died with Ishari as a sovereign territory." There is a vehemence in his tone, one that finds its way into his blue eyes. "Of course it disappointed my father," Prince Irus sighs. "Imagine a son who refused to follow a god you built your kingdom on." <<elseif $chp1_62_3 is 3>> "But King Erlan was a follower of Solus," you say. "Children do not always follow the beliefs of their parents," Prince Irus mutters. You nod in understanding. "My father followed Solus and he is still dead," Prince Irus mutters. "Gods only divided Cyre and now, because of it, my uncle sits on the throne." There is a vehemence in his tone, one that finds its way into his blue eyes. "Of course it disappointed my father," Prince Irus sighs. "Imagine a son who refused to follow a god you built your kingdom on." <</if>><<set $chp1_62_4 to 0>> [["What about your mother?" you ask.|chp1_62_5][$chp1_62_4 +=1]] [["Could you not speak to your mother about it?" you question.|chp1_62_5][$chp1_62_4 +=2]] [["Does your mother support your views?" you ask.|chp1_62_5][$chp1_62_4 +=3]]

<<if $chp1_62_4 is 1>> "What about your mother?" you ask. Prince Irus suddenly looks jaded, his jaw clenching at your question. When he speaks, his voice is hard, as if struggling to speak the words. "What about her?" he asks. "I haven't seen her in years." You frown at his response. "Where is your mother?" you ask. Prince Irus meets your gaze, scowling. "She's a priestess in a sun temple." <<elseif $chp1_62_4 is 2>> "Could you not speak to your mother about it?" you question. A laugh escapes Prince Irus' mouth, the sound bitter and cold. When he meets your gaze, there is a hardness in his expression. "My mother? I haven't seen her in years," he mutters. You frown in confusion, knowing so little about Prince Irus. "Where is your mother?" you ask. Prince Irus meets your gaze, scowling. "She's a priestess in a sun temple." <<elseif $chp1_62_4 is 3>> "Does your mother support your views?" you ask. A scowl forms along Prince Irus' lips and when he turns to look at you, there is a hardness in his gaze that hadn't been there before. "I doubt she would," he mutters. "Though I cannot be too certain since I haven't seen her in years." "Where is your mother?" you ask. Prince Irus meets your gaze, scowling. "She's a priestess in a sun temple." <</if>> You know what it's like to grow up without your mother. During your childhood, you wondered where your own might have gone.<<if $motherdeath is true>> But now, you believe that your mother must be dead<<elseif $motherdeath is false>> You still have hope that your mother is alive, wherever she may be.<</if>> <<set $chp1_62_5 to 0>> [["I know what's it like to like to have an absent mother," you sympathise.|chp1_62_6][$irusRel +=1, $chp1_62_5 +=1]] [["At least you know where your mother is," you mutter.|chp1_62_6][$irusRel -=1, $chp1_62_5 +=2]] [["I am sorry to hear that," you offer.|chp1_62_6][$irusRel +=1, $chp1_62_5 +=3]]

<<if $chp1_62_5 is 1>> "I know what's it like to like to have an absent mother," you sympathise. Prince Irus glances at you, his expression softening. Perhaps the both of you are more similar than you thought, after all, neither of you have a parent to turn to anymore. "It is hard, isn't it?" he asks. You think about all the years you spent, growing up with Ahlf. He never mentioned Mama, not even once. It is hard to remember the exact shade of her eyes or the way her voice sounded. Yet, it is the not knowing what happened to her, after she left you with Ahlf that twists at your gut. "Yes," you breathe. "It is hard." <<elseif $chp1_62_5 is 2>> "At least you know where your mother is," you mutter. Prince Irus glances at you, a frown pulling at his lips. Even if he tried to whine about his mother's absence, at least he knows that she is still alive and where to find her if he so wished. All you have is a fading memory of a woman that you can barely remember. You cannot recall Mama's scent or the way her laugh sounded. It didn't help that Ahlf never brought Mama up once, when you were growing up with him. "Just because I know where my mother is doesn't mean I simply visit her," Prince Irus retorts. You shake your head in response. He doesn't seem to understand that your situations are vastly different. <<elseif $chp1_62_5 is 3>> "I am sorry to hear that," you offer. Prince Irus nods in response, his eyes dark and his face pinched with a conflicted expression. You understand that look. Over the years, you have gone through various emotions about your mother's absence. It did not help that your memories of Mama faded with age. First, you forgot the way her hugs felt and then, it was her voice and smile. Soon, all you could remember was a vague shape of the woman who left you with Ahlf. "Do not be sorry," Prince Irus murmurs after a moment. "My mother wasn't the best of parents." <</if>> [[Next.|chp1_62_7]]

You let out a tired sigh. It seems that nothing is as simple as it first appeared. Prince Irus is in exile and now the Blood Guard is after you. Worse still, it seems that you have made an impression on Morden, the General of the Blood Guard. Still, curiosity plagues you. King Erlan's death seemed to have cleared the path for Virion to take over the throne. It is difficult not to suspect Virion of having a hand in King Erlan's death. <<set $Virion_suspect to false>> [[You bring it up with Prince Irus.|chp1_62_8][$Virion_suspect to true]] [[You do not mention it to Prince Irus.|chp1_62_8]]

<<if $Virion_suspect is true>> Your gaze shifts onto Prince Irus and you find him staring at the dying embers of the fire. Just as King Erlan's death seemed to allow Virion to take the throne, it seems it also allowed for Prince Irus' exile. "Did... did your uncle cause your father's death?" you ask, slowly. Prince Irus looks up at you, his lips pressing into a thin line. For a moment, you think that perhaps Prince Irus will accuse you of offending the royal family, but after a moment, he lets out a tired sigh. "I do not know," he replies. "My father was ill for some time. His physicians did not suspect poison or unnatural cause for his poor health." "But?" you prompt. Prince Irus frowns. "But my uncle is cunning and has the means to hide any foul play from the public. If my father did die of a poisoning, I am certain that Virion made certain that it would not come back to him." You nod in response, thinking on his words. You believe that... <<set $Virion_death_suspect to 0>> [[...Virion is to blame for King Erlan's death.|chp1_62_9][$Virion_death_suspect +=1]] [[...it is only a coincidence that Virion seized the throne soon after King Erlan's death.|chp1_62_9][$Virion_death_suspect +=2]] [[...you do not know what to believe, feeling confused.|chp1_62_9][$Virion_death_suspect +=3]] [[...you need more information before you can make a decision.|chp1_62_9][$Virion_death_suspect +=4]] <<elseif $Virion_suspect is false>> You keep your thoughts to yourself, not mentioning your suspicions about Virion to Prince Irus. Perhaps it is merely a coincidence, or perhaps Virion truly had a hand in King Erlan's death. Whatever you believe, you choose not to mention it. You believe that... <<set $Virion_death_suspect to 0>> [[...Virion is to blame for King Erlan's death.|chp1_62_9][$Virion_death_suspect +=1]] [[...it is only a coincidence that Virion seized the throne soon after King Erlan's death.|chp1_62_9][$Virion_death_suspect +=2]] [[...you do not know what to believe, feeling confused.|chp1_62_9][$Virion_death_suspect +=3]] [[...you need more information before you can make a decision.|chp1_62_9][$Virion_death_suspect +=4]] <</if>>

Prince Irus yawns and you begin to realise just how late it is. The fire has dimmed and the only source of light comes from the faint embers. You draw your cloak tighter around you, warding off the chill that has settled in the air. It is colder now than it had been earlier. You watch as Prince Irus shifts into his sleeping roll, covered by a thin blanket he found in his pack. His blue eyes find yours in the dimness. "We should get some rest," he says. "Vinia is only a day's ride away." You nod, turning away from Prince Irus as he rolls onto his side. He is right. You both desperately need rest. <<if $temple_Explore is false>> Still, you can choose to explore the rest of the temple before you rest for the night. [[Explore the rest of the temple.|chp1_62a][$temple_Explore to true]] [[You choose to sleep for the night.|chp1_63]] <<else>> [[You decide to rest for the night.|chp1_63]] <</if>>

You must have fallen asleep at some point during the night, because the next time you open your eyes, you find Prince Irus already awake. Yawning, you rub the fatigue from your eyes and sit up. Prince Irus glances in your direction, as he fixes his bags to Crown's saddle. "You're awake," he notes. "Gather your things, we leave soon." Despite his curt words, you find a meagre breakfast of cheese and bread set out for you on a thin blanket. Wordlessly, you begin to eat. The cheese is hard and the bread, even more so. Still, it fills your empty belly and soon, you're gathering your pack and following Prince Irus outside the temple. [[Next.|chp1_65]]

Outside, the early light filters through the trees, casting the temple in an ethereal glow. If you didn't sleep in the temple last night, you might have suspected it to be a mirage. Crown nickers and you find that Prince Irus has already saddled the steed. You let out a breath, casting one final glance at the temple. You doubt that you will have the chance to return to the temple any time soon, if at all. It provided you much needed shelter and refuge when you needed it the most. <<if $spiritual_ancient is 0>> You have not worshipped the Ancient Ones, despite your Ishari heritage. After spending the night in the temple, you... <<set $religion to "false">> [[...still do not believe in the Ancient Ones.|chp1_65b]] [[...are beginning to believe in the Ancient Ones.|chp1_65b][$spiritual_ancient +=15]] <<elseif $spiritual_ancient is 65>> You have always worshipped the Ancient Ones, and after spending the night in the temple, you... <<set $religion to "false">> [[...continue to believe in the Ancient Ones|chp1_65b]] [[...are beginning to doubt your belief in the Ancient Ones.|chp1_65b][$spiritual_ancient -=15]] <<elseif $spiritual_ancient is 50>> You've were never a devote follower of the Ancient Ones and after spending the night in the temple you... <<set $religion to "false">> [[...are beginning to believe in the Ancient Ones.|chp1_65b][$spiritual_ancient +=15]] [[...are still uncertain about the Ancient Ones and their existence.|chp1_65b]] [[...are beginning to doubt the existence of the Ancient Ones.|chp1_65b][$spiritual_ancient -=15]] <<else>> Thinking about the temple and the Ancient Ones, you find that you... [[...are beginning to believe in the Ancient Ones.|chp1_65b][$spiritual_ancient +=15]] [[...are still uncertain about the Ancient Ones and their existence.|chp1_65b]] [[...are beginning to doubt the existence of the Ancient Ones.|chp1_65b][$spiritual_ancient -=15]] <</if>>

"Come, $name," Prince Irus calls, interrupting your inspection of the temple. "We must go." <<if $chp1_42a_saddle is false>> You turn away from the temple and make your way to where Prince Irus stands besides Crown. Prince Irus hops onto the saddle, helping you up in front of him. Your muscles still ache from riding for the past few days without rest, but you manage to settle into the saddle with little fuss. <<set $saddle_front to true>> [[Next.|chp1_67]] <<elseif $chp1_42a_saddle is true>> Prince Irus motions for you, but before either of you slides onto the saddle, he turns to face you. "I can sit in front this time, if you want," he offers. When you complained earlier about always having to sit in the front, you didn't think that Prince Irus would remember. Now, given a choice, you choose to sit... <<set $saddle_front to true>> [[...in the back of the saddle, wanting a break from the wind slapping into your face.|chp1_67][$saddle_front to false]] [[...in the front. You've become accustomed to your seating arrangement.|chp1_67]] <</if>>

Settling into the saddle, you cast a final look towards the temple. You do not know when you might return to Cyre and your path ahead will undoubtedly be dangerous. As Prince Irus flicks the reins, Crown begins to carry you both further and further from the home you must say goodbye to. <<set $leave_cyre to 0>> [[You are sad to leave Cyre.|chp1_end][$leave_cyre +=1]] [[You will miss Cyre, but you look forward to travelling to Vinia.|chp1_end][$leave_cyre +=2]] [[You are angry that you must leave Cyre.|chp1_end][$leave_cyre +=3]] [[You do not care much about leaving behind Cyre.|chp1_end][$leave_cyre +=4]] [[You look forward in anticipation of finally travelling to Vinia.|chp1_end][$leave_cyre +=5]]

No matter how you feel about leaving behind Cyre, you know that you cannot turn back now. [[Next.|chp2]]

While the temple is dedicated to one of the Ancient Ones, you think about Solus, the Cyrene deity. <<if $spiritual_solus is 0>> You have never worshipped or believed in Solus. But now, as you begin to leave Cyre, you... [[...still do not believe in Solus.|chp1_66]] [[...are beginning to believe in Solus.|chp1_66][$spiritual_solus +=15]] <<elseif $spiritual_solus is 50>> You have never worshipped Solus, before. But now, as you begin to leave Cyre, you... [[...are beginning to believe in Solus.|chp1_66][$spiritual_solus +=15]] [[...are beginning to doubt the existence of Solus.|chp1_66][$spiritual_solus -=15]] [[...are still unsure what to feel.|chp1_66]] <<elseif $spiritual_solus is 65>> You have always worshipped and believed in Solus. And now, as you begin to leave Cyre, you... [[...continue to worship the Cyrene deity of Solus.|chp1_66]] [[...are beginning to doubt your belief in Solus.|chp1_66][$spiritual_solus -=15]] <</if>>

<<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "chp2" loop play>><div class="heading">Chapter Two</div><div class="borderstyle">p</div> <div class="timeline">Age of Aedes, Year 544, Spring</div> <center>[[Begin.|chp2_start]]</center> <center><<linkreplace "Trigger warnings." t8n>>Anxiety, alcohol mention and use, blood, death, recreational drug mentions and use, nightmares, violence, vulgar language, religious discrimination.<</linkreplace>></center>

<div class="timeline">Somewhere in Vinia</div> <<set $location to "Somewhere in Vinia.">> It is a little before dusk when you finally emerge from the thickets. You are exhausted and you fear that your legs will collapse under your weight, if you left Crown's saddle.<<if $saddle_front is true>> Behind you, you hear Prince Irus sigh. He will not admit it, but he is as tired as you feel.<<else>> In front of you, you feel Prince Irus tense. He is tired, though he does not pause to rest.<</if>> You have both travelled for hours, with little stops in between. Crown huffs, as Prince Irus urges the steed forward. Prince Irus had been right when he said that Crown was hardy. The stallion hardly slowed, despite the long journey. <<set $chp2_horse to 0>> <<if $saddle_front is true>> [[You run your hand down Crown's thick mane to soothe the beast.|chp2_1][$chp2_horse +=1]] [[You murmur softly to Crown, encouraging him.|chp2_1][$chp2_horse +=2]] [[You pat Crown's flank encouragingly.|chp2_1][$chp2_horse +=3]] <<else>> [[You murmur softly to Crown, praising him.|chp2_1][$chp2_horse +=2]] [[You pat Crown's flank encouragingly.|chp2_1][$chp2_horse +=3]] <</if>>

<<if $chp2_horse is 1>> You run your hand down Crown's thick mane to soothe the beast. Crown snorts at your touch and you smile slightly in response. Perhaps spurred on by your touch, Crown surges forward, carrying both you and Prince Irus closer to your destination. <<elseif $chp2_horse is 2>> You run your hand against Crown's flank as you murmur, "We're almost there, just a little more Crown." Crown lets out a whinny in response. Perhaps if everything else fails, you might want to become a stablehand when this is all over. As if spurred on by your words of encouragement, Crown surges forward, carrying both you and Prince Irus closer to your destination. <<elseif $chp2_horse is 3>> You pat Crown's flank encouragingly. His hair is dark and course under your palm and no doubt he will need a good brush down when you finally reach Vinia. Perhaps spurred on by your touch, Crown surges forward, carrying both you and Prince Irus closer to your destination. <</if>> As you ride farther away from the forests, you pick up on the distant rumble of the ocean. For your entire life, you have grown up alongside the coast. The sound you hear is both familiar and strange at the same time. No longer will you ever look upon Salt Bay again. It is a sobering thought and as you ride towards Vinia, you feel... <<set $SB_VIN to 0>> [[...excited about travelling somewhere new.|chp2_2][$SB_VIN +=1]] [[...conflicted. You miss the familiarity of your old home but you are still eager about visiting Vinia.|chp2_2][$SB_VIN +=2]] [[...resigned, for you know that you must travel to Vinia for your own safety.|chp2_2][$SB_VIN +=3]] [[...numb. You do not know how to feel about travelling to Vinia.|chp2_2][$SB_VIN +=4]] [[...relieved. The people of Salt Bay never welcomed you with open arms and you are eager to find a new home.|chp2_2][$SB_VIN +=5]] [[...nervous about travelling to a completely new region.|chp2_2][$SB_VIN +=6]]

Your thoughts are interrupted when you notice a large wall, much higher than the tallest towers of Ehulla's temple. It is white and a stark contrast to the darkening sky. As you gaze at the wall, you note that the ground below you has slowly widened as you travelled. The ground is covered in cobblestones, leading towards a massive gate situated at the base of the wall. As you and Prince Irus ride towards the gates, you notice several guards standing at attention, watching the pair of you as you approach. They seem alert and ready. Prince Irus urges Crown forward, and the guards' eyes follow your movement. "Halt," one of the guards calls out. Prince Irus draws Crown to a slow trot, until you're directly in front of the guards. This close, you notice that there are at least a dozen of them near the gate. The guards hold spears, silver points at the end. You shudder, knowing that they will not hesitate to attack you if they deem you a threat. "Who are you?" the guard demands. It is the same guard from earlier. You turn to look at the guard, a young woman who can be no older than you or Prince Irus. There is a hard glint in her dark eyes and something even deadlier in the way that she holds herself. "State your name and your business," the guard says, when neither your nor Prince Irus reply. "I am Prince Irus of Cyre," Prince Irus explains, a sharpness in his tone. "I seek refuge in Vinia. Let me through." [[Next.|chp2_3][$codeVinia to true]]

<<notify>>New Codex Entry<</notify>> The guard scoffs, her eyes tracking over Prince Irus' features in distaste before they settle onto you. "And you?" she asks. "Are you his servant?" <<set $chp2_3 to 0>> [["What?" you splutter. "I am not his servant."|chp2_4][$chp2_3 +=1]] [[You frown, annoyed by the guard's remarks, "I am not his servant."|chp2_4][$chp2_3 +=2]] [["No," you answer, unbothered by the guard's assumptions.|chp2_4][$chp2_3 +=3]] [["I am no one's servant," you spit acidly.|chp2_4][$chp2_3 +=4]]

<<if $chp2_3 is 1>> "What?" you splutter. "I am not his servant." Heat surges through your throat, settling against your face uncomfortably. You are keenly aware that compared to Prince Irus, you are wearing a simple tunic and cloak. The guard lets out an amused huff, as if your reaction has only entertained her further. "I see," she answers. "Then who are you?" <<elseif $chp2_3 is 2>> You frown, annoyed by the guard's remarks, "I am not his servant." There is a bite in your voice, one that comes across as the words leave your lips. The guard's eyebrows furrow at your tone, and when she speaks again, her voice is clipped. "I see," she mutters. "Then who are you?" <<elseif $chp2_3 is 3>> "No," you answer, unbothered by the guard's assumptions. Perhaps the guard had meant to rile you up, because when you do not react to her words, she frowns and mutters something under her breath. Sighing, she tosses you an unimpressed look. "I see," she says. "Then who are you?" <<elseif $chp2_3 is 4>> "I am no one's servant," you spit acidly. The guard leers at you, her teeth flashing. There is a hardness in her eyes as she watches you, the way a cat might watch a dying mouse. Still, your anger does not evaporate under her gaze and for a split second, you think that a flicker of respect in her dark gaze. "I see," she replies. "Then who are you?" <</if>> You do not get a chance to respond. Prince Irus lets out a frustrated growl, one that reveals his exhaustion and frustration in a single breath. "This is $name," he mutters. "Now can we pass through the gates?" The guard tilts her head at Prince Irus, grinning as if there is something incredibly humorous about the situation. "My apologies, //Prince Irus//," she answers. "I am afraid that we do not recognise the rule of an exiled prince." [[Next.|chp2_5]]

For a moment, all you can do is stare at the guard. It takes you a moment for her words to register and when they do, you are left confused and desperate. Your eyes cut towards Prince Irus, for some sort of explanation but when you glance at him, you find his own expression mirroring yours. "I do not understand," Prince Irus splutters. "Vinia is a neutral kingdom. You cannot turn me away." All the mirth in the guard's expression disappears in an instant. She steps forward and you suddenly notice the sheathed blade at her side. Behind her, the rest of the guards draw closer, ready to attack at a moment's notice. "I am afraid that it is my orders," she answers. "Let me talk to your superior," Prince Irus demands. The guard scowls then, a cruel sight on her youthful face. "I am in charge of these soldiers, Prince Irus. There are no superiors here." Prince Irus lets out a scoff, a derisive sound. "Your insignia is for a Second. Where is your Captain, or are you speaking on behalf of your superior?" The guard tightens her hold on the hilt of her blade and you realise that if you do not interject, Prince Irus might lead you both to your deaths without the help of the Blood Guard. <<set $chp2_5 to 0>> [["Please, we are seeking refuge from the Blood Guard," you plead.|chp2_6][$chp2_5 +=1, $nerenaRel +=5, $passive +=5, $aggressive -=5]] [["Perhaps we can speak to your Captain to clear up the misunderstanding?" you suggest.|chp2_6][$chp2_5 +=2, $nerenaRel +=5, $passive +=5, $aggressive -=5]] [["This is madness," you hiss. "Let us through."|chp2_6][$chp2_5 +=3, $nerenaRel -=5, $aggressive +=5, $passive -=5]] [["I have taken on the Blood Guard," you growl. "I am not afraid of taking on you, so let us through or else you will have to go through me."|chp2_6][$chp2_5 +=4, $nerenaRel -=5, $aggressive +=5, $passive -=5]]

<<if $chp2_5 is 1>> "Please, we are seeking refuge from the Blood Guard," you plead. Your words pierce through the brewing argument between the guard and Prince Irus. Prince Irus frowns at you, as if pleading with the guard is an act of lunacy. But you are undeterred by his stare and turn your attention onto the guard. She watches you, a thoughtful expression on her face. "We have travelled for days without much respite," you say. "We only seek safety in your kingdom. Will you let us enter?" The guard's expression softens slightly and the curt tone in her voice eases into something akin to regret. "I am sorry, $name," she answers. "My orders were clear. I am not to allow entry to any Cyrene, especially those claiming to be the exiled prince." <<elseif $chp2_5 is 2>> "Perhaps we can speak to your Captain to clear up the misunderstanding?" you suggest. Your voice cuts through the mounting tension between Prince Irus and the guard. Prince Irus glances at you, his eyebrows furrowing as if your suggestion will get you nowhere. But you ignore his stare and turn to face the guard. She watches you with a frown and when she speaks, her voice is filled with regret. "Please," you plead. "Perhaps if we can explain our situation to your Captain, we will be allowed to enter." The guard sighs, shaking her head. "I am afraid that the orders have come from my Captain. I cannot let anyone from Cyre enter our gates, especially those claiming to be the exiled prince." <<elseif $chp2_5 is 3>> "This is madness," you hiss. "Let us through." If you were hoping to diffuse the tension between Prince Irus and the guard, all you succeed in doing is drawing the guard's attention onto you. Prince Irus stares at you, wide-eyed as if you have finally lost your senses. Perhaps you have, or perhaps the exhaustion and fleeing for your life has finally snapped the last shred of your composure. "You cannot possibly claim that you will not let us pass simply because he is an exiled prince," you mutter. "What absurdity is this?" The guard grins coldly at you, a look of cruel determination in her gaze. "I am afraid that I am only following my orders," she spits. "Perhaps you want to address these claims of absurdity in the dungeons?" <<elseif $chp2_5 is 4>> "I have taken on the Blood Guard," you growl. "I am not afraid of taking on you, so let us through or else you will have to go through me." Your vehemence is a sharp thing, slicing through Prince Irus and the guard's brewing argument like a knife. If you had intended to draw the guard's ire, you have certainly achieved it. She glowers at you, unsheathing her sword and aiming it directly at you. Prince Irus lets out a sound of disbelief, perhaps thinking you have gone mad. "You do not scare me," you snarl. "I have seen enough destruction and death that your feeble appearance is nothing in comparison." "Face me on the ground," the guard spits. "I will enjoy slicing out that barbed tongue of yours." <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_7][$showOrenRel to true, $oren_portrait to true, $showNerenaRel to true]]

<<if $chp2_5 is 1>> "It is alright, Nerena." A deep voice interrupts your conversation with the guard. You look up and find the source of the voice. It belongs to a tall man and by the way the other guards gaze up at him in deference, you know that he must be important. Nerena, the guard that you were talking to frowns for a moment. "But Captain-" "I will take over from here, Nerena," the man replies. "Join the rest of the guards and report any suspicious persons directly to me." Nerena nods, casting a furtive glance at you and Prince Irus, before she joins the rest of the guards near the gate's entrance. As soon as she steps away, the man who had spoken to Nerena turns towards Prince Irus. He wears a dark coat and strapped to his hip is a sheathed sword. On the right breast of his coat is a golden symbol, a series of interlocking circles with a blade in its centre. "Your Highness," the man greets, bowing slightly. "You must forgive my Second, Nerena. She was under orders to refuse entry to those posing as you. I am Sir Oren, Captain of the Royal Vinian Guard." Sir Oren glances at you then, as if finally realising that Prince Irus is not alone. With his gaze on you, you take in his straight nose and hazel eyes. "Forgive me," Sir Oren says. "I was unaware that His Highness would be accompanied by anyone." Prince Irus speaks then, interjecting. "This is $name." <<set $good_Oren to 0>> [[You smile at Sir Oren. "Prince Irus and I travelled together."|chp2_8][$good_Oren +=1]] [[You feel warmth spread through your cheeks under Sir Oren's gaze and manage, "I travelled with Prince Irus."|chp2_8][$good_Oren +=2]] [[You shrug in response, "I travelled with Prince Irus."|chp2_8][$good_Oren +=3]] [[You huff, "Well I did accompany him."|chp2_8][$good_Oren +=4]] <<elseif $chp2_5 is 2>> "It is alright, Nerena." A deep voice interrupts your conversation with the guard. You look up and find the source of the voice. It belongs to a tall man and by the way the other guards gaze up at him in deference, you know that he must be important. Nerena, the guard that you were talking to frowns for a moment. "But Captain-" "I will take over from here, Nerena," the man replies. "Join the rest of the guard and report any suspicious persons directly to me." Nerena nods, casting a furtive glance at you and Prince Irus, before she joins the rest of the guards near the gate's entrance. As soon as she steps away, the man who had spoken to Nerena turns towards Prince Irus. He wears a dark coat and strapped to his hip is a sheathed sword. On the right breast of his coat is a golden symbol, a series of interlocking circles with a blade in its centre. "Your Highness," the man greets, bowing slightly. "You must forgive my Second, Nerena. She was under orders to refuse entry to those posing as you. I am Sir Oren, Captain of the Royal Vinian Guard." Sir Oren glances at you then, as if finally realising that Prince Irus is not alone. With his gaze on you, you take in his straight nose and hazel eyes. "Forgive me," Sir Oren says. "I was unaware that His Highness would be accompanied by anyone." Prince Irus speaks then, interjecting. "This is $name." <<set $good_Oren to 0>> [[You smile at Sir Oren. "Prince Irus and I travelled together."|chp2_8][$good_Oren +=1]] [[You feel warmth spread through your cheeks under Sir Oren's gaze and manage, "I travelled with Prince Irus."|chp2_8][$good_Oren +=2]] [[You shrug in response, "I travelled with Prince Irus."|chp2_8][$good_Oren +=3]] [[You huff, "Well I did accompany him."|chp2_8][$good_Oren +=4]] <<elseif $chp2_5 is 3>> "Enough Nerena!" The voice is thunderous and commanding, interrupting the mounting tension. The guard who was only seconds ago eager to antagonise you suddenly looks away, her lips pursing into a thin line. You look up and find the source of the voice. A tall man, wearing a dark coat and a sword sheathed at his side, marches to where you and Prince Irus face the guard. "We do not threaten people who have committed no crime," the man barks. Nerena, the guard who had seemed to enjoy taunting you and Prince Irus scowls. "But Captain-" "Enough," the man interjects. "Return to your post. I will hear no more of this, Nerena. Do you understand?" Nerena nods, and as she returns to the rest of the guards, she casts you a withering glower. You almost stick your tongue out in response, but by the way Prince Irus throws you a pointed stare, you manage to refrain yourself. The man turns to face Prince Irus before bowing slightly. "I apologise on behalf of the Vinian Royal Guard," the man says. "I am Sir Oren, Captain of the Royal Guard. My Second Nerena will be dealt with, I assure you." Sir Oren glances at you, his eyebrows furrowing. "I did not know that His Highness would be accompanied by another. While I understand that Nerena may have been the cause of your argument, you would do well not to threaten the guards." Prince Irus interjects, speaking to Sir Oren while glancing at you. "This is $name." <<set $bad_Oren to 0>> [["It was my fault," you reply apologetically. "I should have not antagonised her."|chp2_8][$bad_Oren +=1]] [["I am sorry," you mumble, flushing.|chp2_8][$bad_Oren +=2]] [["Yes, of course," you answer with a shrug.|chp2_8][$bad_Oren +=3]] [["Perhaps you should keep a better watch on your guards then," you snap.|chp2_8][$bad_Oren +=4]] <<elseif $chp2_5 is 4>> "Enough Nerena!" The voice is thunderous and commanding, interrupting the mounting tension. The guard who was only seconds ago eager to antagonise you suddenly looks away, her lips pursing into a thin line. You look up and find the source of the voice. A tall man, wearing a dark coat and a sword sheathed at his side, marches to where you and Prince Irus face the guard. "We do not threaten people who have committed no crime," the man barks. "Put away your sword. //Now//." Nerena, the guard who had seemed to enjoy taunting you and Prince Irus scowls. "But Captain-" "Enough," the man interjects. "Return to your post. I will hear no more of this, Nerena. Do you understand?" Nerena nods, and as she returns to the rest of the guards, she casts you a withering glower. You almost stick your tongue out in response, but by the way Prince Irus throws you a pointed stare, you manage to refrain yourself. The man turns to face Prince Irus before bowing slightly. "I apologise on behalf of the Vinian Royal Guard," the man says. "I am Sir Oren, Captain of the Royal Guard. My Second Nerena will be dealt with, I assure you." Sir Oren glances at you, his eyebrows furrowing. "I did not know that His Highness would be accompanied by another. While I understand that Nerena may have been the cause of your argument, you would do well not to threaten the guards." Prince Irus interjects, speaking to Sir Oren while glancing at you. "This is $name." <<set $bad_Oren to 0>> [["It was my fault," you reply apologetically. "I should have not antagonised her."|chp2_8][$bad_Oren +=1]] [["I am sorry," you mumble, flushing.|chp2_8][$bad_Oren +=2]] [["Yes, of course," you answer with a shrug.|chp2_8][$bad_Oren +=3]] [["Perhaps you should keep a better watch on your guards then," you snap.|chp2_8][$bad_Oren +=4]] <</if>>

<<if $good_Oren is 1>> You smile at Sir Oren. "Prince Irus and I travelled together." Sir Oren returns your smile amicably, the sight making his severe expression soften into something akin to kindness. "It is good that Prince Irus did not travel alone. There are many threats outside the city gates," Sir Oren replies. <<elseif $good_Oren is 2>> You feel warmth spread through your cheeks under Sir Oren's gaze and manage, "I travelled with Prince Irus." If Sir Oren notices your fluster, he does not comment on it. Smiling, Sir Oren nods at you and the severity of his expression softens slightly. "It is good that you travelled with Prince Irus. There are many dangers outside the city gates," Sir Oren replies. <<elseif $good_Oren is 3>> You shrug in response, "I travelled with Prince Irus." Sir Oren nods at your response, casting a glance towards the vast forests you travelled from. "It is good that you travelled together," Sir Oren states. "There are many dangers outside the city gates. <<elseif $good_Oren is 4>> You huff, "Well I did accompany him." Sir Oren frowns slightly at your response, but after a moment, this frown smooths away into a smile. "Yes, you did. It is good to travel in groups," he replies. "It is getting far more dangerous outside the city gates." <<elseif $bad_Oren is 1>> "It was my fault," you reply apologetically. "I should have not antagonised her." Sir Oren smiles at your tone, the severity in his gaze softening. "Thank you for your apology," Sir Oren replies. "No harm was done, so there is no need to feel too bad about it." <<elseif $bad_Oren is 2>> "I am sorry," you mumble, flushing. Sir Oren seems to notice the way you fluster under his gaze and the hard look in his gaze softens until he is smiling at you. "You need not look so contrite, $name," he says. "Nerena can be a handful at times, though I do appreciate your apology." <<elseif $bad_Oren is 3>> "Yes, of course," you answer with a shrug. Sir Oren looks at you for a moment longer, perhaps expecting an apology but when it does not come, he sighs. "Well I suppose it is good that you travelled together," Sir Oren replies. "There are many dangers outside the city gates." <<elseif $bad_Oren is 4>> "Perhaps you should keep a better watch on your guards then," you snap. Sir Oren's eyes narrow at your sharp tone. Perhaps you should not be provoking a man who could kill you without much effort, but you are tired and irritated with the guards. "Perhaps you should keep a better watch on your words, $name," Sir Oren replies. He glances at Prince Irus. "It is good to travel together for safety. There are many dangers outside the city gates." He does not say it aloud, but by the way Sir Oren shoots you a glance, you know that he suspects you to be a danger. <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_9]]

Sir Oren glances at the darkening sky, before returning his attention onto Prince Irus. "Allow me to officially welcome you to the city of Aspal," he says. "I will escort you and your companion to the palace. Queen Elora is expecting you Prince Irus." You frown. Did Sir Oren just say //Queen Elora//? During the past few days that you had been travelling with Prince Irus, he had not mentioned anything about meeting with royalty. In hindsight, perhaps you should have expected this. After all, before King Erlan's death, Prince Irus was slated to become the new king. Still, with the way that Sir Oren had said it and the way that Prince Irus seems unfazed about meeting the Queen, you cannot help but think that this had been Prince Irus' plan all along. <<set $ellie_meet_irus to 0>> [[You feel a little betrayed that Prince Irus didn't mention this to you earlier.|chp2_10][$ellie_meet_irus +=1]] [[You understand that there is still trust to be built between you and Prince Irus, though it still stings that he didn't mention it to you.|chp2_10][$ellie_meet_irus +=2]] [[You do not mind that Prince Irus did not mention anything to you, after all, you have not shared everything about yourself with him either.|chp2_10][$ellie_meet_irus +=3]] [[You are unfazed that Prince Irus did not say anything.|chp2_10][$ellie_meet_irus +=4]] [[It irks you that he does not tell you anything important. You are putting your life at risk too, so you expect to be briefed about his plans.|chp2_10][$ellie_meet_irus +=5]]

<<set $location to "Aspal, Vinia.">> You keep your thoughts to yourself as Sir Oren leads you and Prince Irus through the large metal gates. The guards who had been wary of you before, now stand at attention, allowing you to pass through. Prince Irus urges Crown on, carrying you both through the long tunnel beneath the city's outer walls. As you approach the end of the path, Sir Oren speaks. "Your steed looks weary," he says. "We have prepared a few horses for you Prince Irus." Your eyes dart towards two magnificent steeds await, kept steady by a few guards. Sir Oren moves to the large, white mare that whinnies as he approaches. Hoisting himself onto the already prepared saddle, Sir Oren glances at you and Prince Irus. "You may take the free horse," Sir Oren explains to Prince Irus. His eyes shift towards you. "It is a far way to go before we reach the palace, $name. You are welcome to ride with me if you want." Prince Irus nods gratefully, before swinging down from Crown's saddle. He pauses, glancing up at you. "The decision is yours, $name," he says, before moving to mount the other horse. <<set $irus_ride to false>> [[You decide to accept Sir Oren's offer to ride with him.|chp2_11]] [[You decide to continue riding with Prince Irus.|chp2_11][$irus_ride to true]]

<<if $irus_ride is false>> "I think I shall join you, Sir Oren," you answer. Sir Oren smiles widely at you and for a moment, you're struck by how youthful it makes his expression. Sliding off of Crown's saddle, you approach Sir Oren. He's already seated atop of his mare. "I am afraid you'll have to sit in the back," he explains. "There are many who will try to catch a closer look at the Prince. It will be easier for me to keep them at bay if I am in the front of the saddle." Sir Oren offers you a gloved hand, to help you onto the saddle. <<set $hand_up_ore to false>> [[You accept his aid onto the horse.|chp2_12][$hand_up_ore to true]] [[You ignore his help and get onto the saddle by yourself.|chp2_12]] <<elseif $irus_ride is true>> "I would rather ride with Prince Irus," you explain. <<if $irusRel gte 54>> Prince Irus shoots you a glance, and for a second, there is a look of relief in his blue gaze. You have not known each other for that long, but you cannot deny that you have become closer in the chaos you have both had to experience. <<else>> Prince Irus shrugs in response. You have both travelled quite a distance in the same saddle, so riding with him again will be no different. <</if>> You slide off of Crown's saddle and make your way to where Prince Irus is already mounted on the new stallion. He glances at you, as you take your usual spot in the saddle. [[Next.|chp2_12]] <</if>>

<<if $irus_ride is false>> <<if $hand_up_ore is true>>You accept Sir Oren's extended hand as he helps you up onto the saddle. There is a strength in his grip as he pulls you up, his arm flexing against your own. You settle behind Sir Oren and find yourself facing his expansive back and straight posture. <<elseif $hand_up_ore is false>> You wave away Sir Oren's extended hand and pull yourself up onto the steed without his aid. Settling in behind Sir Oren, you are greeted by his expansive back and straight posture. <</if>> Once you are saddled up and Crown's reins are given to Prince Irus to lead, Sir Oren barks out an order to the rest of the guards and the inner gate beneath the large wall is slid open. <<elseif $irus_ride is true>> <<if $saddle_front is true>> You slide into the front of the saddle, settling in front of Prince Irus. The stallion that Prince Irus was given to ride is not nearly as large as Crown, though you do not doubt that he will be able to hold your and Prince Irus' combined weights. <<elseif $saddle_front is false>> You slide into the back of the saddle, settling behind Prince Irus. The stallion that Prince Irus was given to ride is not nearly as large as Crown, though you do not doubt that he will be able to hold your and Prince Irus' combined weights. <</if>> Once you are saddled up and Crown's reins are given to Prince Irus to lead, Sir Oren barks out an order to the rest of the guards and the inner gate beneath the large wall is slid open. <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_13]]

<<set $codeAspal to true>><<notify>>New Codex Entry<</notify>>As you are led through the gate, you are greeted by a wave of noise. It is a low hum, vibrating against the trots of the steeds you ride. All around you are people and crowds of merchants, each seeking permission to enter the great city. While the other travellers are ushered towards guards, stationed in front of the gates, Sir Oren leads you and Prince Irus directly away from them. Your eyes roam the tall buildings, made from cut stone and are as white as the outer wall of the city. Riding further into the city, you have trouble knowing where to look. There are people dressed much like you and Prince Irus, while others don clothes similar to the Ishari merchant you saw as a child in Salt Bay. Prince Irus catches you stare and snorts in amusement, "You're gawking." <<set $chp2_13 to 0>> [["I am not gawking," you huff, slightly embarrassed.|chp2_14][$chp2_13 +=1]] [["It's just so large," you murmur. "I haven't been to a city like this before."|chp2_14][$chp2_13 +=2]] [["So what if I am gawking?" you retort.|chp2_14][$chp2_13 +=3]]

<<if $chp2_13 is 1>> "I am not gawking," you huff, slightly embarrassed. Of course you //were// gawking, but you won't admit that to Prince Irus. His lips turn upwards and you catch his grin before turning away. Sir Oren chuckles, noticing the exchange between you and Prince Irus. "Do not feel too badly, $name," Sir Oren says. "I still sometimes admire city of Aspal. It is a magnificent sight." Prince Irus casts a glance at Sir Oren. "Do you not tire of seeing it every day?" Sir Oren shrugs, smiling. "I did not grow up in Aspal, so like others, there is always something new to admire." <<elseif $chp2_13 is 2>> "It's just so large," you murmur. "I haven't been to a city like this before." "Truly?" Prince Irus asks, surprise evident in his tone. "You never left Salt Bay?" You shrug, your eyes scanning the wide roads and clusters of people around you. People pause to wave at Sir Oren, giggling when he waves back at them. "I never had the chance to leave," you explain. "There was always so much work to do with the fishing and selling in the markets." Sir Oren raises an eyebrow, picking up on your conversation with Prince Irus. "There is nothing wrong with admiring the city of Aspal," Sir Oren explains. "It is a beautiful sight to take in, especially when you are not used to such places." "You're not from Aspal?" Prince Irus questions, a curious lilt in his voice. "Not originally," Sir Oren explains. "I did not come to Aspal until I was well past my childhood." <<elseif $chp2_13 is 3>> "So what if I am gawking?" you retort. Prince Irus lets out a breath at your response, but there is no sign of anger in the sound. "It was only a jest, $name," Prince Irus replies after a moment. Sir Oren speaks then, and you are reminded that you and Prince Irus are no longer alone. You have travelled with Prince Irus for nearly a week now, though it feels like much longer than that. "There is no need to defend yourself," Sir Oren says. "I still admire the city of Aspal." "You do?" Prince Irus asks. "I would have thought that you would have gotten bored with the sight by now, being the Captain of the Guard." Sir Oren lets out a throaty chuckle and grins when he speaks. "I have not always lived in Aspal, Your Highness. Though I can say that I never grow bored of the city's beauty." <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_15]]

As you ride on farther into the city, you find your eyes settling on a tall building, similar in its architecture to that of the Temple of Ehulla that you and Prince Irus had found shelter in. A furrow settles across your eyebrows, and Sir Oren catches your stare. "A temple for the Ancient Ones," he explains. "It was built years ago, when many of the Ishari refugees found a home in Vinia." <<set $chp2_15 to 0>> [["And there isn't an issue with the worship of the Ancient Ones?" you ask, surprised.|chp2_16][$chp2_15 +=1]] [["It is strange to see the worship of the Ancient Ones permitted so openly," you explain.|chp2_16][$chp2_15 +=2]] [["Is it only this temple?" you ask, curious.|chp2_16][$chp2_15 +=3]]

<<if $chp2_15 is 1>> "And there isn't an issue with the worship of the Ancient Ones?" you ask, surprised. Sir Oren shakes his head. "There are many different worshippers in Vinia. We do not shame those who believe in other deities." He pauses for a moment, perhaps debating whether or not to speak his thoughts out loud. "You have Ishari blood in you," he says it, rather than asks. "I do," you answer. Sir Oren nods, "There are many Ishari people here in Vinia. Perhaps, after you settle in, you can visit the Ishari districts." <<elseif $chp2_15 is 2>> "It is strange to see the worship of the Ancient Ones permitted so openly," you explain. Prince Irus nods, perhaps just as surprised by the open worship in Vinia. During your time in Salt Bay, you had become accustomed to the cold stares simply because of your heritage. Yet, here in Vinia, it seems that no one cares. "I suppose it must be surprising to you," Sir Oren remarks. "In Vinia, it is natural to believe in more than one deity even from other religions." You blink, startled by his admission. As you peer at the crowds, you realise that no one seems to care that you have Ishari blood. In fact, it seems that more people are interested in Prince Irus who ignores their stares pointedly. "There is a large Ishari district in Vinia," Sir Oren says, after a moment. "Perhaps when you have settled in, you can visit the district." <<elseif $chp2_15 is 3>> "Is it only this temple?" you ask, curious. Sir Oren shakes his head, smiling when he replies, "This is one of many, $name. It is certainly one of the oldest in Vinia, but there are far more temples dedicated to the Ancient Ones farther into the Ishari district." You frown, unused to such open worship of the Ancient Ones. Your entire life was about hiding your Ishari heritage, yet, here in Vinia, no one seems to care. You wonder for a moment what it would have been like if you grew up in Vinia, instead of Salt Bay and the thought leaves you breathless. "Perhaps after you settle in," Sir Oren says, "you can visit the Ishari district." <</if>> You offer Sir Oren a noncomittal shrug. It is a little strange, to be thrust into a world where you are not expected to hide your heritage from others. <<set $Idistrict to false>><<set $Idistrict_uncertain to false>> [[You would like to visit the Ishari district once you're settled in.|chp2_17][$Idistrict to true]] [[You would prefer not to visit the Ishari district, uncomfortable at the prospect.|chp2_17]] [[You are unsure how to feel about visiting the Ishari district and need more time to determine what you want to do.|chp2_17][$Idistrict_uncertain to true]]

<<if $irus_ride is false>> As you ride on, you turn your attention to the man sharing your saddle. You chose to sit with Sir Oren, who so far has been rather kind compared to the guards stationed outside the city walls. Sir Oren seems to be a few years older than you, though by the way he carries himself, it is clear that he is no stranger to being in authority. Sir Oren seems to feel your stare on him, because he casts you a sidelong glance. This close, you are able to make out the flecks of green in his brown eyes, a shade of hazel that reminds you of early autumn. "Are you alright?" Sir Oren asks warmly. "I hope the saddle is not too uncomfortable to share like this." <<set $saddle_ore to 0>> [["I've gotten used to sharing a saddle," you answer with a smile. "Thank you for asking."|chp2_18][$saddle_ore +=1, $orenRel +=2]] [["It's fine," you mumble, your heart hammering under his attention.|chp2_18][$saddle_ore +=2, $orenRel +=2]] [["I do not mind sharing the saddle with you," you respond with a wide grin.|chp2_18][$saddle_ore +=3, $orenRel +=2]] [[You shrug as you respond, "It's fine."|chp2_18][$saddle_ore +=4, $orenRel +=2]] [["It would have been better if I had my own horse," you mutter.|chp2_18][$saddle_ore +=5, $orenRel -=2]] <<elseif $irus_ride is true>> As you ride on, you turn your attention to the man sharing your saddle. You chose to sit with Prince Irus. After travelling together for so long and sharing a saddle, you've become accustomed to having the Prince seated so closely to you. <<if $irusRel gte 53>> So far, it has been an easy companionship. While there is still much to be discussed between the both of you, the journey with Prince Irus has not been that bad.<<else>>The journey with Prince Irus has not been without its troubles and though your relationship could be improved, you are content for now to travel together.<</if>> Prince Irus must sense your thoughts, because he speaks softly, too low for Sir Oren or the other accompanying guards to hear him. "I wanted to thank you," he says. "For choosing to ride with me." You frown at Prince Irus' words. When Sir Oren offered you a place atop his mare, Prince Irus had made it clear that it had been your decision. Yet, now, there is a vulnerability to his voice, one that you are unused to hearing. <<set $iri_feels to 0>> [["It is only sharing a saddle, Prince Irus," you answer, smiling. "But I would happily choose to ride with you again."|chp2_18][$iri_feels +=1, $irusRel +=1]] [["You are welcome, Prince Irus," you murmur softly, flushing as you say the words.|chp2_18][$iri_feels +=2, $irusRel +=1]] [["I'd always choose you, Prince Irus," you purr.|chp2_18][$iri_feels +=3, $irusRel +=1]] [["It's nothing to be thankful for, Prince Irus," you answer with a shrug.|chp2_18][$iri_feels +=4]] [["It seems like riding with you was a mistake on my part, Prince Irus," you mutter.|chp2_18][$iri_feels +=5, $irusRel -=1]] <</if>>

<<if $saddle_ore is 1>> "I've gotten used to sharing a saddle," you answer with a smile. "Thank you for asking." Sir Oren smiles in an earnest sort of way. You take a moment to examine his profile. He is handsome in the way boys become handsome as they age into men. There is an easiness about Sir Oren, despite his position as a Captain of the Vinian Guard. Perhaps you have been fleeing for too long with Prince Irus, but even you can admit that sitting with Sir Oren is a nice contrast to having to constantly look over your shoulder. "I am glad then," Sir Oren responds. <<elseif $saddle_ore is 2>> "It's fine," you mumble, your heart hammering under his attention. Sir Oren flashes you a warm smile and it does nothing to stop the thundering of your heartbeat. You are grateful when he looks away from you, returning his attention to ahead of your path. "I am glad, $name," Sir Oren replies. Your face warms, though you are uncertain if it comes from his proximity or the way he says your name. Sitting with Sir Oren, you realise is much different from sitting with Prince Irus. Perhaps it is from all the fleeing and stress, but with Sir Oren, there is an easiness about him that calms you. <<if $irusRom gt 0>> Still, you glance towards Prince Irus. Back in the Temple of Ehulla, there had been a moment between the both of you. You look up and catch Prince Irus' gaze on you. As soon as your eyes meet, he turns away, as if scorched by your stare.<<else>><</if>> <<elseif $saddle_ore is 3>> "I do not mind sharing the saddle with you," you respond with a wide grin. Sir Oren lets out a warm laugh, one that fills the space between you. A smile settles across his lips, the expression a mirthful one. He is handsome, you think. It is the way his eyes light up and the easiness that comes from his position as a Guard Captain. "I am glad," Sir Oren answers. "Not many would be so kind." You tilt your head. Was it kindness that prompted your response, or admiration for his handsomeness? Still, Sir Oren seems happy and that is enough to calm your mind. Riding with Sir Oren is far more relaxing, although when you had travelled with Prince Irus, you both had been fleeing for your lives. <<if $irusRom gt 0>> Still, you glance towards Prince Irus. Back in the Temple of Ehulla, there had been a moment between the both of you. You look up and catch Prince Irus' gaze on you. As soon as your eyes meet, he turns away, as if scorched by your stare.<<else>><</if>> <<elseif $saddle_ore is 4>> You shrug as you respond, "It's fine." You have travelled with Prince Irus for nearly a week, so riding with Sir Oren is not that different to you. You do not mind it, if it means that you will arrive at your destination sooner rather than later. Still, there is a calmness about Sir Oren that Prince Irus seemed to have lacked during your travels. Perhaps it is because with Sir Oren, you are not fleeing for your lives or perhaps it is because Sir Oren has an easiness about him that Prince Irus lacks. <<elseif $saddle_ore is 5>> "It would have been better if I had my own horse," you mutter. Sir Oren frowns, the expression causing him to look more severe. It is a frightening expression, one that suddenly reminds you of the way your father would look at you when you disobeyed him. Still, you cannot take back your words and you doubt that you even would want to. "I apologise," Sir Oren grunts. "We had been unaware that His Highness would be travelling with another." You roll your eyes. "Perhaps you and Prince Irus could have shared a saddle instead." Sir Oren lets out a sound of disbelief, casting a sharp look at you. "That would be most improper. I do not know His Highness that well and besides, I doubt the both of us could have fitted in the same saddle." You scoff, "I'm sure you would have found a way if you really tried." Sir Oren frowns, turning to face the path ahead. His jaw clenches and you //almost// feel bad to have riled him. <<elseif $iri_feels is 1>> "It is only sharing a saddle, Prince Irus," you answer, smiling. "But I would happily choose to ride with you again." Prince Irus lets out a laugh, a warm sound that is filled with mirth. It is far different from the man you have come to know, though perhaps without the stress of fleeing for your lives, Prince Irus seems more at ease with himself. "If I didn't know any better, I would think that you were buttering me up," Prince Irus responds. You shrug, a smile tugging at your lips. "Perhaps I am." "You wound me, $name," Prince Irus replies, though you hear the grin in his tone. "Here, I thought you actually liked me." "Like you? Oh, you're mistaken, Prince Irus," you answer. "Irus," he says, more sober. You blink, startled by the seriousness in his voice. "What?" "It's just Irus," he replies. "Besides, I'm exiled, remember? I don't really have a title anymore." "Are you certain?" you ask. Prince Irus nods. "I'd like to think of us as friends, $name, especially after everything that's happened." "Alright," you reply. "Irus." <<elseif $iri_feels is 2>> "You are welcome, Prince Irus," you murmur softly, flushing as you say the words. Prince Irus smiles, his eyes twinkling in response. Perhaps it is your imagination, but you think that he must be able to hear your heartbeat by the way his lips tug into a smirk. "Oh, is something the matter, $name?" Prince Irus purrs. You blink, startled by his smug tone. Swallowing, you look at the path below, the way the crowds seem to stop to stare at you as you ride. Do they see your fluster too? Are they laughing at your obvious embarrassment? It is hard to think clearly. You eye the ground below. If you fling yourself off the saddle, would being crushed really be so bad compared to this? <<if $flirt_shy gt 3>> "You're always so shy, $name," Prince Irus murmurs. "I must say, it is quite a tempting look on you." <<else>>"Shy hmm? I must say, it is quite a tempting look on you."<</if>> You nearly fall over then, and were it not for Prince Irus' quick reflexes, you are certain you would have fallen to your demise.<<if $saddle_front is true>> His fingers wrap around your waist, his palm settling near your own hands. For a moment, you cannot think. You cannot breathe. Prince Irus lets his fingers stray closer to your own. A gasp escapes your lips as his fingers trace against the skin of your palm, before he withdraws his hand.<<elseif $saddle_front is false>> He reaches towards you, grabbing your hip to keep you in place. His touch is hot, searing through the material of your clothes. You cannot breathe. It is hard to think. Without warning, Prince Irus lets go of your hip, instead, pulling at your arm and securing it around his waist. You are only grateful that he faces forward and cannot see the fluster in your expression.<</if>> "Thank you Prince Irus," you mumble. "Irus," he replies. "W-What?" you stammer, wide-eyed. "Is it so odd to want to hear my name on your lips?" Prince Irus asks. You try to ignore the mental image his words elicit. Instead, you manage, "No." "No what?" Prince Irus asks, his voice teasing. "No, Irus," you reply, your face hot. <<elseif $iri_feels is 3>> "I'd always choose you, Prince Irus," you purr. A laugh escapes Prince Irus and the sound is filled with mirth. When the sound fades, you can hear the smirk in his voice. "Truly?" he asks. "I suppose you must be quite smitten, to pass up the chance with Sir Oren." You cast a glance at the Guard Captain and find that he pays no attention to you or Prince Irus.<<if $saddle_front is true>> You twist around slightly, to catch a glimpse of Prince Irus. Is it the slight jealousy in his tone or is it the way that he looks at you that sends a delicious tug at your chest?<<elseif $saddle_front is false>> Your eyes return to Prince Irus in front of you and he turns slightly, casting you a sidelong look. Perhaps it is the way his eyes dance with the hint of jealousy or the way he gazes at you that warms your chest.<</if>> "Smitten with you?" you ask, teasing. "We have not known each other long enough for that, Prince Irus." "Irus," he says, after a moment. You raise an eyebrow, grinning. "You want me to call you by your name?" Prince Irus laughs, the sound light. "Yes, I do." "I must say, Irus," you emphasise his name, "it is quite scandalous for a fisherman's $heir to simply address you by your name." "Perhaps I like a little scandal," he answers, his voice low. You smile to yourself, pleased by his response. <<elseif $iri_feels is 4>> "It's nothing to be thankful for, Prince Irus," you answer with a shrug. Prince Irus lets out a breath, "Nevertheless, I wanted to thank you." You nod, turning your attention away from the conversation. Instead, you let your gaze sweep over the throngs of people who stop at the sides of the path to stare up at Prince Irus and Sir Oren. Perhaps you are not nearly interesting enough to garner their attention. "I'd like to think of us as friends," Prince Irus suddenly says. "After everything that we have been through, it would be odd to not consider you one." <<if $irusRel gte 55>> So far you and Prince Irus have been quite amicable with each other, so you can understand why he would think of you as a friend. And perhaps, you might consider him one as well.<<else>>Your relationship with Prince Irus could be better and certainly, while you have been through a lot together in the past few days, you are not quite sure if it would make you friends.<</if>> "Perhaps we can become good friends, Prince Irus," you answer. "Call me Irus," he says, after a moment. "It would be odd for you to continue calling me by a title I no longer possess." "Very well, Irus," you reply. <<elseif $iri_feels is 5>> "It seems like riding with you was a mistake on my part, Prince Irus," you mutter. <<if $irusRel gte 55>>Your relationship with Prince Irus has been quite amicable for most of your journey, so when your words leave your lips, it seems to take Prince Irus by surprise. Perhaps it is the exhaustion from having to flee for days without much rest, or perhaps it is something deeper. Still, when Prince Irus speaks, his voice lacks any form of rebuke. "I'd like for us to be friends, $name," he says. "I know that it has not been an easy journey, but we have been through a lot together." "Give me time to think it over, Prince Irus," you reply. "Call me Irus," he says. You shrug. "Very well, Irus." <<else>>You and Prince Irus have not had the best of relationships in the days that you travelled together and your hard tone does not seem to surprise Prince Irus anymore than it does you. Still, when Prince Irus speaks, his voice lacks any form of rebuke. "I'd like for us to be friends, $name," he says. "I know that it has not been an easy journey, but we have been through a lot together." "I am not sure if I quite agree with becoming friends, Prince Irus," you answer. "Call me Irus," he says. You shrug. "Very well, Irus."<</if>> <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_19]]

As your conversation lulls, you return your attention to the city around you. Unlike in Salt Bay, the architecture in Aspal is magnificent. The buildings are tall, all cut from stone and seem to have been built with a care for beauty in mind. It is unlike the small hamlet you became accustomed to, during your childhood. There are more people in Aspal than you have seen in your entire life. It suddenly dawns on you then, the realisation that the life you once knew is gone. Even if you went back to Salt Bay, even if you rebuilt a life near the sea, you will never be able to return to the person you once were. It is a daunting thought and once that remains with you, as you approach the palace. The sky is a deep amber, when you arrive at the palace. Your eyes widen at the sight. You thought that the city buildings were magnificent, but it is clear that you were unprepared for the palace. Its walls are made of a white stone that seems to glow under the sunlight. You need to crane your neck as you take in the many storeys, with multiple towers dotting the structure's design. It is much grander than you expected, though perhaps all palaces look like this and you only lacked the knowledge due to your own status as a fisherman's $heir. "The Great Palace of Vinia," Sir Oren states with a flourish. [[Next.|chp2_20]]

<<set $location to "The Great Palace, Aspal.">><div class="timeline">The Great Palace of Vinia.</div> You are ushered into the palace gates, guards standing at attention as you do so. This close to the palace, the streets are nearly empty. The crowds from earlier seem to have thinned out, leaving behind only the Vinian Guards who are alert and ready for an unknown threat. <<if $irus_ride is false>> Sir Oren dismounts from the saddle and before you can protest, he grabs your arm and helps you down. Standing this close to him, you become aware of just how tall the Captain is.<<if $height is "tall">> You stand nearly at the same height, though you're certain that Sir Oren still surpasses you by a bit.<<elseif $height is "average">> You need to look up slightly, to meet Sir Oren's eyes, though you manage to come up to his shoulders.<<elseif $height is "short">> You have to crane your neck up in order to meet Sir Oren's gaze. He is far taller than you, far larger too, as you barely reach the middle of his chest in height.<</if>> <<elseif $irus_ride is true>>You and Prince Irus both dismount from the saddle, and as you stand, you feel your thighs ache. Exhaustion threatens to overcome you and you would rather not sit in a saddle ever again. <</if>> Staring up at the palace, you... <<set $chp2_20 to 0>> [[...are relieved, for finally reaching your destination.|chp2_21][$chp2_20 +=1]] [[...are exhausted, too drained to think clearly.|chp2_21][$chp2_20 +=2]] [[...are nervous, for you have never been this close to a palace before.|chp2_21][$chp2_20 +=3]] [[...are excited to see the inside of the palace.|chp2_21][$chp2_20 +=4]] [[...feel indifferent, unable to feel any sort of way about the palace.|chp2_21][$chp2_20 +=5]] [[...feel hollow, as despair threatens to choke you.|chp2_21][$chp2_20 +=6]]

<<if $chp2_20 is 1>> Relief spreads through you, your shoulders sagging as the coiled tension that had found its home there, releases you. You are safe, or as safe as you can be for now. For the first time, you do not need to worry about the Blood Guard and even if they managed to find you here at the palace, you are certain that the Vinian Guards would be able to fight them off far better than you or Prince Irus could. <<elseif $chp2_20 is 2>> Fatigue, more than just simple tiredness, grips you tightly. You sway slightly on your feet, wanting nothing more than to lay your head down on a proper bed and to rest. It feels as if you have been running for years and not days. When last did you had a proper sleep? You cannot remember a time when you have not been looking over your shoulder. Thinking about anything other than sleep is difficult and as you fight back a yawn, you do your best to remain awake. <<elseif $chp2_20 is 3>> Anxiety fills your mind, a prickling sensation that leaves you breathing far too quickly. You have spent the past few days with Prince Irus and though he is royalty, fleeing for your lives together had meant that it had become easy to overlook your differences in status. You are uncertain what to expect inside the palace. Perhaps you will be ridiculed or worse, sent to remain with the servants. You fight the panic that threatens to overwhelm you, struggling as blood rushes past your ears. <<elseif $chp2_20 is 4>> In all your life, you have never been this close to a palace. You tremble with excitement, your lips pulling into a smile. Perhaps living in a small cottage, filled with the scent of fish and salt has made you eager to see a building that is quite the opposite. Perhaps it is the expectation of the extravagence and pomp that you are certain the Vinian royalty will display. As you gaze up at the palace, you cannot stop the eager anticipation that fills you. <<elseif $chp2_20 is 5>> There is a numbness that fills you in a way that you cannot fathom. It is hard to feel anything, hard to think of how to feel as you gaze up at the palace. You know that you should feel relieved, perhaps even excited at reaching the palace, yet you cannot. It is an empty feeling, one that grips you tightly in its grasp. <<elseif $chp2_20 is 6>> Despair threatens to swallow you, a powerful thing that leaves you struggling to swallow any air. Perhaps it is the loss of your past, one that you know that you can never reclaim, or perhaps the death you have experienced in such a short time has finally taken its toll on your mind, but you cannot fight off the surge of overwhelming darkness that pulls at you. Still, you do your best to rid yourself of the heavy fog that holds you so tightly, even when your attempts prove to be futile. <</if>> "Come," Sir Oren calls, drawing you from your thoughts. "I will take you to see Her Majesty." [[Next.|chp2_22]]

Sir Oren leads you and Prince Irus into the palace, its large doors opening upon your arrival. Guards flank both you and Prince Irus, with Sir Oren in front of you. As you step inside the main foyer of the palace, you are stunned by its opulence. Gold filigree lines the walls, intricate designs in the borders of the columns that line the hallway you walk through. Beneath your feet, a plush carpet seems to go on endlessly down the floor, embroidered with delicate patterns that curl and lap at your heavy footsteps. As you are led further into the interior of the palace, you notice a few people hurrying past, barely paying your group any attention. Servants, you think, though their attire is finer than your own. You walk farther than you expected, before you reach a set of wide, wooden doors. The handles seem to be made of gold, as they gleam under the oil lamps. Sir Oren glances at Prince Irus. "Her Majesty awaits you inside. She asks to see you, though I am afraid that she is expecting you alone, Your Highness." You frown as Sir Oren's words register. Sir Oren casts you a regretful look, but it is clear in the way that he holds himself that he does not intend on disobeying his queen. "No," Prince Irus replies, scowling slightly. "$name travelled with me and $MChe will accompany me." "But-" Sir Oren begins, only to be cut off by the glower on Prince Irus' face. "We are both seeing the Queen," Prince Irus retorts. Ignoring Sir Oren, Prince Irus pushes the wide doors open, entering the chamber within, glancing back at you to make certain that you follow him. [[Next.|chp2_23][$showEloraRel to true, $elora_portrait to true]]

Much to Sir Oren's displeasure, you follow after Prince Irus. The chamber you enter is a large one, with ornate lamp fixings which dangle from the high ceiling. They cast a warm glow over the room, one which is no less opulent than the rest of the palace. //"Iri."// The voice is soft, delicate and when you turn towards its source, you find a young woman flinging herself at Prince Irus. You think you hear Sir Oren choke back a shout, perhaps realising the true threat is this woman and not you or Prince Irus. "You've grown since I last saw you, Ellie," Prince Irus laughs, grinning down at the younger woman. //Iri? Ellie?// You frown, glancing at Prince Irus. You do not know much of Prince Irus, though watching him with this Ellie, you can tell that the two of them are rather close. <<set $chp2_23 to 0>> [[A sharp twist of jealousy curls around your chest, as you stare at Prince Irus.|chp2_24][$chp2_23 +=1]] [[A squirming rise of something like jealousy fills you as you gaze at Prince Irus, though you force it down along with the rest of your emotions.|chp2_24][$chp2_23 +=2]] [[You smile, glad that Prince Irus has a good friend.|chp2_24][$chp2_23 +=3]] [[You eye the young woman with interest, taking in her beauty.|chp2_24][$chp2_23 +=4]] [[You frown at their embrace, mistrustful of this young woman.|chp2_24][$chp2_23 +=5]] [[You do not react, unbothered by such a display between Prince Irus and this young woman.|chp2_24][$chp2_23 +=6]]

<<if $chp2_23 is 1>> A sharp twist of jealousy curls around your chest, as you stare at Prince Irus. There is a familiarity in the way that he embraces this Ellie that leaves you struggling to make sense of it all. Jealousy, like the sting of poison, squeezes at your lungs and you find your fingers curling into your palms. Is it their friendship that bothers you, or perhaps it is the worry that there is something more between them? <<elseif $chp2_23 is 2>> A squirming rise of something like jealousy fills you as you gaze at Prince Irus, though you force it down along with the rest of your emotions. You force down the feeling, the unwanted pang that threatens to pull you with it, until you are certain that it no longer shows on your face. Perhaps it is the fear that you had thought that you and Prince Irus would be sticking together, against anyone who would posed a threat, only to discover that in fact, he has others to support him. <<elseif $chp2_23 is 3>> You smile, glad that Prince Irus has a good friend. The younger woman, Ellie, grins brightly up at Prince Irus and you feel a wave of relief. Though you have not known Prince Irus long, you are grateful to know that he still has friends outside of Cyre who do not wish for his death, the way his own family and the Blood Guard do. <<elseif $chp2_23 is 4>> You eye the young woman with interest, taking in her beauty. She is younger than you, perhaps by a year or two, though it is the way her eyes dance with an intelligence far greater than her beauty belies that draws your attention to her. Though you do not know this woman, you cannot help but want to learn more about her. <<elseif $chp2_23 is 5>> You frown at their embrace, mistrustful of this young woman. It is the sight of the guards around you, including Sir Oren that stops you from prying the woman away from Prince Irus. For the past few days, it has been just you and the Prince, fleeing from the Blood Guard. It would be foolish to trust anyone, no matter how close Prince Irus and they might be. <<elseif $chp2_23 is 6>> You do not react, unbothered by such a display between Prince Irus and this young woman. They embrace each other, the way long lost friends do and while Sir Oren seems to struggle to keep himself from pulling the both of them apart, you watch them with mild indifference. <</if>> Eventually, Prince Irus draws away from the woman and glances towards where you stand. "Ellie, this is $name," Prince Irus explains. "Someone who helped me get this far." "I was unaware that you had a companion, Iri," the woman replies, glancing pointedly at Sir Oren. To his credit, the Captain does not flinch under the sharpness in the woman's dark gaze. Turning towards you, she steps closer, and you take in her appearance. No longer eager and smiling, you're struck by the woman's regal appearance. Dark kohl lines her eyes and a golden head chain, sits atop the dark thickness of her hair. "I am Queen Elora," she states. "It is a pleasure to meet the $gender who helped Prince Irus." <<set $chp2_24 to 0>> [[You bow your head in deference.|chp2_25][$chp2_24 +=1, $eloraRel +=2]] [[You bow your head, smiling warmly at Queen Elora.|chp2_25][$chp2_24 +=2, $eloraRel +=2]] [[You bow your head, flushing under Queen Elora's attention.|chp2_25][$chp2_24 +=3, $eloraRel +=2]] [[You bow you head, smirking at Queen Elora.|chp2_25][$chp2_24 +=4, $eloraRel +=2]] [[You remain standing upright, for you bow for no one.|chp2_25][$chp2_24 +=5, $eloraRel -=2]]

<<if $chp2_24 is 1>> You bow your head in deference. When you return your gaze onto Queen Elora, you find that she watches you carefully, assessing you for something you are uncertain that you possess. You must have passed whatever silent judgment, because Queen Elora offers you a smile, after a moment. "$name," she says, as if testing the sound. "It is good to meet you." <<elseif $chp2_24 is 2>> You bow your head, smiling warmly at Queen Elora. When you return your gaze onto her, you find that she is mirroring the warmth of your smile. It makes her look less severe than she had a few seconds ago and you realise why she and Prince Irus must be such good friends. "What a delight," Queen Elora claims, smiling at you. "You are far too charming, $name." <<elseif $chp2_24 is 3>> You bow your head, flushing under Queen Elora's attention. Warmth seeps into your face and you hope that your awkwardness does not show. As you return your gaze onto Queen Elora, you find her wearing a wide grin, a softness in her gaze that was not there seconds earlier. "I am certain we will get to know each other better, $name," Queen Elora murmurs. <<elseif $chp2_24 is 4>> You bow you head, smirking at Queen Elora. She is an attractive woman and no doubt, a powerful one too. Yet, as you return your attention to Queen Elora, you cannot help the amusement that fills you. Queen Elora catches your expression, her lips quirking into a smile as she meets your eyes. "I am grateful that you helped Iri," Queen Elora says. "I cannot wait to learn more about you, $name." <<elseif $chp2_24 is 5>> You remain standing upright, for you bow for no one. For a moment, neither you nor Queen Elora move and when it becomes apparent that you will not bow in deference, Queen Elora arches a perfectly shaped eyebrow at you. "$name, was it?" she asks, but does not wait for your answer. "I suppose I can forgive your crude manners. You did help Iri after all, though a word of advice, you may want to treat those who can help you far better lest you anger them." <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_26]]

Queen Elora returns to Prince Irus, before you can respond. Her expression bears a note of seriousness, her eyebrows furrowed as she looks up at the Prince. "I am sorry for not contacting you sooner," she explains. "I only received your letter a few days ago and by then, we had heard you had escaped Cyre." Once again, you are made aware of just how little you know of Prince Irus' past and his relationship with Queen Elora. Had he always planned on travelling to Vinia? Was he never going to mention that the Queen had been expecting him? Perhaps it would not have changed anything and he thought you did not need to know. "It is alright," Prince Irus replies. "I need- no, //we// need your help. My uncle has made himself king and now he wishes me dead." Queen Elora nods, though you notice that she refrains from agreeing to help Prince Irus. From her earlier excitement at seeing Prince Irus, you thought that she might have agreed instantly. When she does not, it leaves an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. "Will you offer us your protection?" Prince Irus asks, a note of desperation in his tone. Glancing away, Queen Elora lets out a breath, before she answers, "I will allow you to remain in the palace, you and $name. As for protection, Iri, you know that I care about you but I cannot risk my kingdom going to war with Cyre. If your uncle demands your return, I must do what is best for my people." Prince Irus tenses and you notice a mask of indifference slip over his face. "I understand. I thank you for your aid, in any form." "I... we can discuss it tomorrow. The both of you need a proper rest," Queen Elora explains, glancing at you. "You are weary and have travelled far." She gestures with her hand and two servants, dressed in deep golden robes, approach from the side of the chamber, where they had been silently waiting. "Follow the attendants," she explains. "They will help you settle in." [[Next.|chp2_27]]

It does not take long for the attendants to usher you and Prince Irus out of the chamber. As soon as you are out of view of Queen Elora, you hear Prince Irus let out a shaky breath. Casting him a furtive glance, you catch a hint of despair in his face. <<set $chp2_27 to 0>> [["Are you alright?" you ask, concerned.|chp2_28][$chp2_27 +=1, $irusRel +=1]] [["Cheer up," you say with a smile, "At least we'll have a proper bed to sleep in tonight."|chp2_28][$chp2_27 +=2, $irusRel +=1]] [["That wasn't the news I was expecting," you murmur with a frown.|chp2_28][$chp2_27 +=3, $irusRel +=1]] [["And I thought that you and the Queen were close," you scoff, scowling.|chp2_28][$chp2_27 +=4, $irusRel -=1]]

<<if $chp2_27 is 1>> "Are you alright?" you ask, concerned. Prince Irus startles, as if he had forgotten that he was not alone. His blue gaze raises to meet yours and for a moment, you notice a hollow look of vulnerability in his face. The expression is one that you are unused to seeing on his face and for a moment, all you can do is stare at Prince Irus. "What do you think?" he mutters. You frown at his sharp tone, turning away from him. Perhaps he truly is an entitled prince. You follow the attendants in silence then, ignoring the way your mind seems to dwell over the harshness in which Prince Irus spoke to you. "$name," Prince Irus calls. "I'm sorry. You didn't derserve that." <<elseif $chp2_27 is 2>> "Cheer up, Irus," you say with a smile, "At least we'll have a proper bed to sleep in tonight." Prince Irus frowns at your words, before he meets your gaze. There is a torrent of emotions which flash through the blue depths of his eyes, but eventually, one seems to stand out. //Frustration.// "Of course, $name," Prince Irus scoffs. "At least we'll have a proper bed to sleep in. Small mercies and all that, huh?" His words are biting, laced with a sharp anger that had been absent when you were both with Queen Elora. You frown at Prince Irus, unsure of whether you want to punch him or turn away. You doubt that the attendants who lead you up to your rooms would allow you to punch Prince Irus, even if he deserved it so you settle on silence. "$name," Prince Irus calls. "I'm sorry. You didn't derserve that." <<elseif $chp2_27 is 3>> "That wasn't the news I was expecting," you murmur with a frown. Prince Irus lets out a humourless laugh, the sound harsh and grating in the silence of the palace hallways. You frown, your eyes raising to meet Prince Irus' blue gaze. There is sharpness in his expression, a wild anger that he seems unable to control. "Of course it wasn't," he spits. "It's never the news to expect. And after all this time, to think that all I'm left with is a fisherman's $heir." His words cut through you and for a second, you're left staring at him with wide eyes.<<if $irusRel gte 54>> After everything you've been through together, and that is all Prince Irus thinks of you? You've tried to be nice to him, you even thought that perhaps you were friends.<<else>> You and Prince Irus are not that close, though after travelling for this long, you had expected at least a semblance of courtesy. Perhaps all he saw you as was a fisherman's $heir the entire time you travelled together.<</if>> You turn away from Prince Irus, your jaw clenching as you continue to follow the attendants. For a moment, you wonder if they would care if you struck Prince Irus in his face. You shake away the thought and walk in tense silence. It is not long, before Prince Irus catches up to you. "$name," Prince Irus calls. "I'm sorry. You didn't derserve that." <<elseif $chp2_27 is 4>> "And I thought that you and the Queen were close," you scoff, scowling. At the sound of your voice, Prince Irus glances up, his eyes narrowing at you. There is a silent rage in his gaze, the kind that reminds you of a man who has lost control of his emotions. You expect Prince Irus to lash out at you, but instead, he glowers. "Maybe if you did a little less thinking and a little more of coming up with solutions, we wouldn't be in this mess," he spits. You let out a breath in disbelief. He's blaming you for your situation? This entire journey had been because of Prince Irus and the problems he brought with him when he came to Salt Bay. You want to kick him and shout and tell him that he's on his own. But you keep your anger to yourself, as you follow the attendants towards your awaiting rooms. "$name," Prince Irus calls. "I'm sorry. You didn't derserve that." <</if>> <<set $chp2_28a to 0>> [["It's fine," you reply softly.|chp2_29][$chp2_28a +=1]] [["You're right. I didn't derserve that," you huff. "I thought we were a team, Irus."|chp2_29][$chp2_28a +=2]] [["Don't speak to me like that again," you warn. "I am not your servant, regardless of what you might think."|chp2_29][$chp2_28a +=3]]

<<if $chp2_28a is 1>> "It's fine," you reply softly. Prince Irus frowns at your words, perhaps expecting your ire instead. His eyebrows furrow and he draws closer to you, as you follow the attendants through the endless hallways. "It's not fine," he breathes. "I should never have spoken that way to you. I just thought that Ellie would have at least offered some good news for once, instead of us having to face everything alone." You remain quiet, going over his words. When you do not reply, Prince Irus glances at you, wearing an expression of contrition. "Forgive me, please?" he asks. There is a desperation in his voice, a pleading that suddenly reminds you of a time when you were left with Ahlf, your mother gone and no one else to comfort you. <<elseif $chp2_28a is 2>> "You're right. I didn't derserve that," you huff. "I thought we were a team, Irus." Prince Irus looks stricken, as if your words have cut him far deeper than his ever could cut you. You stare up at him as you follow after the attendants. They have been silent this entire time, though you do not doubt that they are listening to your conversation. "We are a team," Prince Irus manages, his voice strained. "I didn't... Blood and tears, I didn't mean what I said. Everything is going wrong, first with Cyre and now with Ellie... I didn't mean to yell at you, $name. I'm sorry." You take a moment, going over his words. There is a hint of desperation in Prince Irus' blue eyes as he gazes at you. The sight nearly strangles a memory from you, one where you were left with Ahlf while your mother disappeared, with no one to comfort you. "Forgive me," he whispers. "Please." <<elseif $chp2_28a is 3>> "Don't speak to me like that again," you warn. "I am not your servant, regardless of what you might think." There is a hardness in your voice, an unflinching sound that takes Prince Irus by surprise. Perhaps he did not expect your accusation or maybe he did not expect that you would not keel over and accept the brunt of his anger. "I... blood and tears, I never thought you were my servant," he breathes. You let out a bark of laughter, the sound harsh. "Are you certain? Be honest, Irus. If it weren't for the fact that you had no one else to turn to, you'd never have let me travel with you." The force of your words seem to sober Prince Irus. He glances away, shamefaced and when he responds, it is in a strained voice. "You're right, $name," he murmurs. "If I wasn't alone, I would probably have never needed your help. Maybe you would have been better off." There is a vulnerability in his tone, one that reminds you of the time when you had been left with Ahlf, your mother gone and no one to comfort you. Prince Irus looks up then, a desperate expression on his face. "Forgive me, $name," he breathes. "Please." <</if>> <<set $forgive_Irus to false>><<set $chp2_29 to 0>> [["There's nothing to forgive," you respond.|chp2_30][$forgive_Irus to true, $chp2_29 +=1]] [["I forgive you," you say, nodding at him.|chp2_30][$forgive_Irus to true, $chp2_29 +=2]] [["I cannot," you reply. "It's something that I cannot simply overlook."|chp2_30][$chp2_29 +=3]]

<<if $chp2_29 is 1>> "There's nothing to forgive," you respond. A breath leaves Prince Irus. You glance at him and he offers you a small smile of gratitude. You look away from his gaze, tired by everything that has happened. You are not certain what you had been expecting when you came to Vinia, though it is clear that this was not the outcome that Prince Irus wanted. You cannot fault him for becoming frustrated. After all, Queen Elora's words had been less than hopeful for the future of both you and Prince Irus. <<elseif $chp2_29 is 2>> "I forgive you," you say, nodding at him. "Thank you," Prince Irus murmurs, a grateful expression on his face. After everything that has happened, the idea of holding a grudge now seems insignificant to everything that you have experienced. Travelling to Vinia was supposed to fix everyone's problems, but all it has done is cause more issues for you and Prince Irus. Queen Elora didn't give you much hope and you are uncertain how long she will permit you and Prince Irus in her palace. <<elseif $chp2_29 is 3>> "I cannot," you reply. "It's something that I cannot simply overlook." A ragged breath escapes Prince Irus, but he does not protest your decision. "I understand," he murmurs. You turn away, working over your words. How do you forgive someone so easily? He spoke carelessly to you and while some might forgive him, you cannot. Perhaps travelling together had given you the illusion that Prince Irus respected you more as an ally rather than someone who he only needed out of necessity. Still, it is clear that regardless how you feel, you and Prince Irus are stuck together for the forseeable future. Queen Elora's words had given you less hope than you had expected and you are wary of how long she will permit you and Prince Irus in her palace. <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_31]]

The attendants finally come to a stop in a long hallway with large doors on either side. "Your chamber, Your Highness," the first attendant says, gesturing towards a door on the left. Prince Irus glances at the attendant, then the door before he turns towards you. "I suppose this is where we part for the night." "I suppose it is," you reply. Prince Irus looks as if he wants to say more, but before the words leave his lips, he turns away and follows the attendant into his chamber. You are left alone, with the remaining attendant, a young woman with pale eyes. "This way," she says. "Your chamber is a few rooms down the hall from His Highness." You nod as you follow her farther down the hallway. The attendant stops, opening a wooden door to your side and gestures for you to enter. Stepping into the chamber, you're taken aback by its size. It must be bigger than the entire cottage you and Ahlf shared, when you were growing up. The room is well-furnished, with a large bed and dresser to one side and another room leading into what you soon discover to be a bath chamber. "There are clothes in the wardrobe," the attendant explains, "and a meal on the tray. If you need anything else, do not hesitate to ask." [["This is enough, thank you," you say.|chp2_32]] [["Thank you," you answer, staring in awe.|chp2_32]] [[You nod in response, your eyes scanning the large room.|chp2_32]] [[You wave away the attendant, your focus already on the room before you.|chp2_32]]

The attendant bows slightly, before she leaves the room. A quiet silence fills the space, no sounds filtering from outside. You move towards the bed and drop your pack onto it. Finally, you have a moment to yourself. <<set $alone_todo to 0>><<set $unpack to false>><<set $wash to false>><<set $eat to false>> [[You unpack your belongings.|chp2_33a][$alone_todo +=1, $unpack to true]] [[You decide to wash up in the bath.|chp2_33b][$alone_todo +=2, $wash to true]] [[You eat the meal laid out on the tray.|chp2_33c][$alone_todo +=3, $eat to true]]

You open the fastenings of your pack, removing the meagre belongings that you carried with you. A few rumpled clothes, followed by a half-eaten piece of bread that you doubt is edible anymore are placed untidily onto the bed. All that is left behind is the jade box, Ahlf gave to you. <<set $chp2_33a to false>> [[You go through the box, wanting to know more.|chp2_33a_1][$chp2_33a to true]] [[You place the box under the bed, not wanting to know more.|chp2_33a_1]]

You move towards the small, adjoining chamber that leads to a bath chamber. A brass tub, gleaming under the flickering lamps, sits in the centre of the room. It has already been filled with steaming water and you become aware of the week's long amount of sweat that must cling to your skin. A set of towels have been laid out on a nearby table and you spot an array of glass bottles, each filled with a different oil. You strip off your clothes, watching them fall to a heap around your ankles. They reek, you realise and you doubt that they can be salvaged. Sighing, you lower yourself into the steaming water. The heat scalds your skin at first, though after a moment, you become accustomed to its warmth. You begin to scrub at your skin, watching as the water goes from clear to a ruddy brown. Still, you bask in the soothing heat, against your sore thighs and heavy limbs. Your eyes shift onto the glass bottles once more and you reach out for the nearest one. Uncorking it, you are greeted by a floral scent. There are others like it, each different in their hues. <<set $bath_oil to 0>> [[You choose a dark tinged oil, emitting a woody spice scent.|chp2_33b1][$bath_oil +=1]] [[You choose a clear oil, light in its apperance which emits a herbal scent, with hints of citrus.|chp2_33b1][$bath_oil +=2]] [[You choose an amber oil, which emits a syrupy, saccharine scent.|chp2_33b1][$bath_oil +=3]]

You approach the silver tray, which has been placed on the wooden table on the far side of the room. The tray is filled with an assortment of food, a luxury compared to the stale bread and hard cheese that you had to endure on your travels with Prince Irus. Scanning the tray, you note that a variety of cheeses, meats and fruits have been laid out for you. <<set $MC_veg to false>><<set $MC_pes to false>><<set $MC_sober to false>> [[You avoid the meat dishes, as you do not consume any meat.|chp2_33c1][$MC_veg to true]] [[You avoid the meat dishes, as you only consume seafood and not any other meat.|chp2_33c1][$MC_pes to true]] [[You eat a little of everything, not having an issue with the variety.|chp2_33c1]]

A yawn escapes your lips and with a new set of clothes and a full stomach, it is difficult to keep your eyes open for much longer. Your footsteps are heavy, barely lifting off of the ground as you slip between the heavy blankets and the mattress. The bed cushions your aching body and the pillows are soft under your head. As you stare up at the ceiling, warm and safe, you find yourself drifting to sleep. [[Next.|chp2_35]]

<<if $chp2_33a is true>> You unlatch the jade box, lifting the lid. Once more, you are greeted by numerous letters, some fade and some kept in much better condition than others. Gazing at the letters, you... <<set $chp2_letter to 0>> [[...look for letters between your parents.|chp2_33a_2][$chp2_letter +=1]] [[...search for letters about your father's past as a Blood Guard General.|chp2_33a_2][$chp2_letter +=2]] [[...rummage for letters between your father and King Erlan.|chp2_33a_2][$chp2_letter +=3]] <<else>> You frown, shaking away any urge to read a letter. Instead, return the jade box into your pack. Hopefully, no one will find it while you remain in the palace. You did not want to read another letter because... <<set $chp2_letterfalse to 0>> [[...it is late and you are tired.|chp2_33a_2][$chp2_letterfalse +=1]] [[...you do not think that you can take any more surprises from your father's past.|chp2_33a_2][$chp2_letterfalse +=2]] [[...you do not want to read any letters tonight.|chp2_33a_2][$chp2_letterfalse +=3]] [[...you are too restless to concentrate on any of the letters.|chp2_33a_2][$chp2_letterfalse +=4]] [[...you do not care about the contents of any of the letters.|chp2_33a_2][$chp2_letterfalse +=5]] <</if>>

<<if $chp2_letter is 1>> You pore through the letters, contained in the jade box, searching for anything that bears your mother's name. Though when you find it, you recognise the handwriting as belonging to Ahlf. //Cerura, 520. My heart's gleam. It is to be expected that our child does not recognise you. I am afraid that our time apart has only made the situation worse. $name longs for $MChis father and I know that if we were to live with you, there would still be time to mend the relationship your absence has caused. I know that the dangers are great and I know that we agreed to remain apart. But how can I continue on like this when I know that our $heir is growing up thinking that you are dead? Your visit this time was cut too short. I know you only left because of what happened with $name. Do not take it to heart, Ahlf. Our $heir is only afraid because $MChe is too young to know better. You are $MChis father and you are always welcome to see $name. If only you would agree to live together, I know that we would be happy. Please Ahlf, think about it. -Salyra.// [[Next.|chp2_33a_letter]] <<elseif $chp2_letter is 2>> You go through the letters in the jade box, looking for any sign of your father's title as General. Eventually, you find it contained in a crisp page, stamped with an official looking crest. //Ezu, 515. General Ahlf, I have heard some truly worrying news from the soldiers who have returned. They say that the people of Ishari wield powers far greater than they have seen. Of course, none of them can quite explain this, only that the warriors seem to wield fire in their hands. It is a foolish notion and one that we must not fear. The Ishari warriors are no stronger than our own and we must press on with reclaiming what was lost when they abandoned our King. We will continue to use their weaknesses for their gods against them, unless your orders change. I do hope that you allow us to cut them down, General for this war has cost us far too much already. -Lena.// [[Next.|chp2_33a_letter]] <<elseif $chp2_letter is 3>> As you search through the pages inside the jade box, you find one that is rolled neatly and fastened with a brass ring. Opening the letter reveals that it is one that you have been looking for. //Canus, 524. Ahlf, is it so wrong that I still write to you? It has been years since I last heard from you though I do have my men reporting back to me about your life at the coast. I fear that my court have become fed up with me, for they tend to rush to Virion with their problems, these days. I know that your $heir is with you. Do not try to deny it. The Blood Guard reported to me the night that Ishari woman brought your $heir to you. Do not fret. I will not threaten your blood, for respect of the friendship we once shared. Irus is boisterous at this age. Do you think that if you did not betray me that our children would have liked each other? I sometimes think that my hatred for the Ishari has not passed down to Irus, for he watches his mother with rapt attention, even when she speaks blasphemy to him. You are still his guardian, you know. I do not think that I can trust anyone from my court with Irus' safety. One day, I hope that you can forgive me. -E.// [[Next.|chp2_33a_letter]] <<elseif $chp2_letterfalse is 1>> Exhaustion creeps at the corners of your mind and you let out a yawn. It is late and you are tired. Even if you did try to read a letter, you do not think that you would be able to make sense of the words. Instead, you gather the pack and slip it under the bed. [[Next.|chp2_33a_end]] <<elseif $chp2_letterfalse is 2>> Discovering that your father was once part of the Blood Guard had left you reeling. You are afraid that any letter you read now will only reveal more of his past that he kept hidden from you. Instead, you gather the pack and slip it under the bed. [[Next.|chp2_33a_end]] <<elseif $chp2_letterfalse is 3>> You have travelled far to get to Vinia. There will still be tomorrow or even next week to read another letter, but tonight is not that night. Lacking any urge to read another letter from the jade box, you decide to slip the pack under the bed. [[Next.|chp2_33a_end]] <<elseif $chp2_letterfalse is 4>> You are jittery and filled with a myriad of emotions. You do not think that you will be able to concentrate on the words of the letters, even if you did try. Instead, you gather the pack and slip it under the bed. [[Next.|chp2_33a_end]] <<elseif $chp2_letterfalse is 5>> Whatever you need to know comes from what is happening around you, not from what's contained in the letters that your father hid from you for so long. No, to care about what is inside the jade box would be foolish at best. Instead, you gather the pack and slip it under the bed. [[Next.|chp2_33a_end]] <</if>>

<<if $chp2_letter is 1>> You stare at the letter, written in the familiar handwriting of your mother. For a moment, all you can do is reread his letter. But none of it makes sense. You cannot remember a time in Ishari that involved anyone other than your mother. Had Ahlf truly come to see you? Did you forget his visit entirely? <<set $chp2_letter_reac to 0>> [[You tremble with grief and sorrow.|chp2_33a_letter1][$chp2_letter_reac +=1]] [[You blink back tears, filling your eyes.|chp2_33a_letter1][$chp2_letter_reac +=2]] [[You crumple the letter and throw it as far as you can in rage.|chp2_33a_letter1][$chp2_letter_reac +=3]] [[You stare numbly at the letter.|chp2_33a_letter1][$chp2_letter_reac +=4]] <<elseif $chp2_letter is 2>> Your eyes scan over your father's letter, taking in his callous disregard for the loss of human life that would surely follow his orders. Throughout your childhood, Ahlf had not shown any favour for a particular deity, though as you read his letter, you realise that he must have been as ruthless as the other Blood Guard in order to have been made a General. <<set $chp2_letter_reac to 0>> [[You frown at your father's letter, feeling unsettled by his role.|chp2_33a_letter1][$chp2_letter_reac +=5]] [[You swallow back a sob, feeling despair fill you.|chp2_33a_letter1][$chp2_letter_reac +=6]] [[You are indifferent to your father's ruthlessness, knowing that he left the Blood Guard eventually.|chp2_33a_letter1][$chp2_letter_reac +=7]] [[You scowl at your father's ruthlessness.|chp2_33a_letter1][$chp2_letter_reac +=8]] <<elseif $chp2_letter is 3>> Rereading the letter, you cannot help but focus on the fact that King Erlan seemed to have known of your existence. Looking at the date of the letter, you realise that he had known of your presence in Salt Bay since your arrival. The thought that Erlan knew, and worse still that Ahlf had clearly known that at any time you could have been killed for your Ishari heritage finally begins to explain your father's rules to never stray too far. <<set $chp2_letter_reac to 0>> [[Tears gather in your eyes at your father's silent act of protection.|chp2_33a_letter1][$chp2_letter_reac +=9]] [[You tremble with rage, knowing that your father kept another thing from you.|chp2_33a_letter1][$chp2_letter_reac +=10]] [[You let out a choked breath, struggling to come to terms with it all.|chp2_33a_letter1][$chp2_letter_reac +=11]] [[You stare at the letter, unsure what to make of your feelings.|chp2_33a_letter1][$chp2_letter_reac +=12]] <</if>>

Turning away from the jade box full of letters, you return your attention to the rest of the room. You decide to... <<if $wash is false>> [[...wash up in the bath.|chp2_33b][$wash to true]] <<else>><</if>> <<if $eat is false>> [[...eat the meal laid out for you.|chp2_33c][$eat to true]] <<else>><</if>> <<if $wash is true and $eat is true>> [[...go to sleep.|chp2_34]] <</if>>

<<if $chp2_letter_reac is 1>> You tremble with grief and sorrow. It fills you, strangling your chest and gripping your limbs with despair. You do not remember meeting Ahlf before your arrival at Salt Bay, yet, now you know that he had seen you before then. Perhaps it is the loss of a family life that you will never get know which causes you to shake. <<elseif $chp2_letter_reac is 2>> You blink back tears, filling your eyes. The unshed tears sting your eyes and you swipe at them, suddenly hating that you cannot stop them from falling. How do you mourn the loss of a childhood with the both of your parents when for all your life, you have only had one parent present? <<elseif $chp2_letter_reac is 3>> You crumple the letter and throw it as far as you can in rage. Frustration fills you and you find your jaw clenching. Your father kept many things from you, including those memories which included you. Had he truly wanted to run from his mistake of fathering you with your mother or had he not wanted to carry the responsibility of raising you? <<elseif $chp2_letter_reac is 4>> You stare numbly at the letter. It is hard to react when all you can do is stare at the letter gripped in your hands. A hollow, emptiness fills you and you cannot bring yourself to muster any sort of emotion. Your father kept many things from you, though even as you discover them, you find that you cannot rouse yourself to care. <<elseif $chp2_letter_reac is 5>> You frown at your father's letter, feeling unsettled by his role. Ahlf was in charge of the Blood Guard once and though you know of the atrocities that they are capable of committing, you had not really thought about your father's role in it all. He had killed many, you realise and the thought leaves you uncomfortable. <<elseif $chp2_letter_reac is 6>> You swallow back a sob, feeling despair fill you. Ahlf had been the General of the Blood Guard once, though perhaps it didn't dawn on you until now that he must have killed many people in his duties. It is hard to come to terms with the idea that your father killed those who you share half your heritage with. <<elseif $chp2_letter_reac is 7>> You are indifferent to your father's ruthlessness, knowing that he left the Blood Guard eventually. Ahlf was once a General of the Blood Guard, and you are not foolish to believe that your father must have killed many in his duties. Still, he left and despite his many flaws, you know that the decision could not have been an easy one. <<elseif $chp2_letter_reac is 8>> You scowl at your father's ruthlessness. Ahlf must have killed many in his role as the General of the Blood Guard. You can only imagine why your mother would have even fallen for him, or why Ahlf had even fathered you. The idea that your father is responsible for the deaths of those who you share half your heritage with leaves you raging. <<elseif $chp2_letter_reac is 9>> Tears gather in your eyes at your father's silent act of protection. All the times that Ahlf tried to keep you away from the rest of Salt Bay suddenly makes sense. He knew that King Erlan was aware of your existence and perhaps the only way of keeping you safe was by keeping you close to him at all times. <<elseif $chp2_letter_reac is 10>> You tremble with rage, knowing that your father kept another thing from you. How much more must you uncover after your father's death? It feels as if there is so much you have grown up not understanding, only to realise that you father had known about it all along. <<elseif $chp2_letter_reac is 11>> You let out a choked breath, struggling to come to terms with it all. King Erlan had known that you had existed and your father had not said a single thing about it to you. It is difficult to process all the hidden secrets your father had kept from you, though you are uncertain if learning about them after his death is worse or not. <<elseif $chp2_letter_reac is 12>> You stare at the letter, unsure what to make of your feelings. King Erlan had known of your existence since your arrival in Salt Bay and still, your father had not told you anything. You are uncertain on how to feel. Perhaps your father had a good reason for keeping these secrets from you, yet, you cannot bring yourself to feel any particular way about it. <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_33a_end]]

<<if $bath_oil is 1>> You choose a dark tinged oil, emitting a woody, spicy scent. Removing the stopper, you add a few drops of the oil to your bath and on the undersides of your wrists. The perfumed oil is rich in its fragrance, a deep, woody smell with spicy notes that fill your senses. You breathe it in deeply, enjoying the calm that comes afterwards. <<elseif $bath_oil is 2>> You choose a clear oil, light in its apperance which emits a herbal scent, with hints of citrus. Removing the stopper, you add a few drops of the oil to your bath and on the undersides of your wrists. The scent is light, a fragrant smell that reminds you of warm summers and sunny days. You breathe in deeply, noting the faint wisps of citrus in the oil and sink back, enjoying the calm that comes afterwards. <<elseif $bath_oil is 3>> You choose an amber oil, which emits a syrupy, saccharine scent. Removing the stopper, you add a few drops of the oil to your bath and on the undersides of your wrists. You are rewarded by a sweet scent, a cloying smell that reminds of summer fruits and days spent eating them in the evenings. A breath escapes you and you sink into the water, enjoying the calm that comes afterwards. <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_33b2]]

Eventually, the water becomes tepid and you force yourself to slip out of the bath. You gather a towel, soft against your skin, around your torso. The attendant from earlier had mentioned that clothing had been provided to you and rummaging through the large wardrobe shows a wide selection of clothes available. <<set $chp2_clothing to "unknown">> [[You decide to wear the finely made dress, embroided with scarlet thread.|chp2_33b_end][$chp2_clothing to "dress"]] [[You choose the loose robes, with wide sleeves, adorned with golden beads.|chp2_33b_end][$chp2_clothing to "robes"]] [[You choose the tunic and wide pants, finished with large, opal buttons.|chp2_33b_end][$chp2_clothing to "tunic and pants"]]

You pull on your $chp2_clothing and find that the material is far softer than what you had become used to in Salt Bay. Feeling slightly more human than you had before your bath, you return your attention towards the rest of the room. <<if $unpack is false>> [[You decide to unpack your belongings next.|chp2_33a][$unpack to true]] <<else>><</if>> <<if $eat is false>> [[You decide to eat the meal laid out for you.|chp2_33c][$eat to true]] <<else>><</if>> <<if $unpack is true and $eat is true>> [[You decide to sleep.|chp2_34]] <</if>>

<<if $MC_veg is true>> You pluck a date, wrinkled and drenched in honey before biting into it. A burst of juice stains your lips and you find yourself unable to stop yourself from eating another. You take a bite of a bread roll, far softer and much fresher than the stale one that you and Prince Irus had been sharing. Your hunger far outweighs your restraint and you find yourself trying the cheeses next, the rich softness filling your mouth with a heavenly taste. Your mouth quickly grows dry, and you notice that a pitcher of what seems to be wine on the table. Beside it, is a teapot with fragrant tea. <<elseif $MC_pes is true>> You avoid the dishes of red meat, instead enjoying the spread of rich cheeses and soft bread rolls. Besides it is a dish, filled with a fish broth. As you take a bite of the greasy fish, you taste the richness of spices and herbs which make up the rest of the broth. Your hunger far outweighs your restraint and you find yourself trying a little of everything, from the grilled oysters to the dates drenched in honey. Each mouthful leaves your stomach a little more stuffed, though you cannot bring yourself to stop. Sitting in front of the tray, you notice a pitcher filled with wine and besides it, a teapot with fragrant tea. You reach forward, hoping to quench your thirst. <<else>> Your stomach lets out an unbidden rumble and you are grateful that no one is around to hear it. Reaching out, you begin to bite into the soft bread rolls before moving to the cheese, creamy and soft in your mouth. Next comes a lamb dish, braised in spices and coated in rich gravy. You eat until you are certain that your stomach protests against another mouthful. It is then that you notice a pitcher filled with wine and beside it, a teapot with fragrant tea. Reaching out, you hope to quench your sudden thirst. <</if>><<set $tea_chp2 to false>> [[You drink the wine, as you have no qualms about alcohol.|chp2_33c2]] [[You drink the tea, though you also consume alcohol at times.|chp2_33c2][$tea_chp2 to true]] [[You drink the tea, because you abstain from consuming alcohol.|chp2_33c2][$MC_sober to true, $tea_chp2 to true]]

<<if $MC_sober is true>> You pour yourself the tea, a golden colour before sipping at the steaming cup. The tea is earthy, though no less refreshing as you drain your cup. <<elseif $MC_sober is false and $tea_chp2 is true>> You do not have an issue with alcohol, though tonight you would like to drink the fragrant tea after your meal. Pouring yourself a cup, you sip at the steaming liquid. It has an earthy flavour, but is no less refreshing as you drain your cup. <<else>> You pour yourself a goblet of wine, the colour a deep red that looks almost black. Tasting it, you are rewarded by a sweet bitterness that fills the rest of your mouth with its richness. Stuffed as you are, you drain your goblet until there is no wine left. <</if>> Finally satisfied and your stomach full, you return your gaze to the rest of your room. <<if $unpack is false>> [[You unpack your belongings.|chp2_33a][$unpack to true]] <<else>><</if>> <<if $wash is false>> [[You decide to wash up in the bath.|chp2_33b][$wash to true]] <<else>><</if>> <<if $unpack is true and $wash is true>> [[You decide to go to sleep.|chp2_34]] <</if>>

<<audio "chp2" pause>><<audio "scary" play>><<type 90ms>>\There is smoke all around you. You cannot see anything but the darkness. Someone screams. You stumble forward. Warmth, sticky and wet coats your feet. You look down. Blood. It's all around you. When you look up again, you see the fire. It is raging, a blistering heat that surrounds you. [[You need to run.|chp2_36]] [[You need to find help.|chp2_36]] [[You need to escape.|chp2_36]] \<</type>>

<<type 90ms>>\You cannot run. Your legs will not move. A headless child runs past you. Someone laughs loudly. //"There you are."// It is Ahlf. He is wearing armour. His face is unlined with wrinkles. He is younger. Different. Cruel. "Say hello to your mother, will you?" he bellows. [[You turn and run.|chp2_37]] [[You scream, fleeing.|chp2_37]] [[You escape your father.|chp2_37]]\<</type>>

<<type 90ms>>\You run. Your lungs squeeze painfully. It begins to hurt. Your legs throb. Smoke fills your mouth. You cannot breathe. Behind you, your father laughs as you run. You feel a rush of air. Ahlf carries a sword, swinging towards you. "Come, my Sweetling. Just up ahead." [[You follow the voice.|chp2_38]] [[You follow the voice, hoping to escape your father.|chp2_38]] [[You follow the voice, hoping to find your mother.|chp2_38]]\<</type>>

<<type 90ms>>\Mama is waiting for you. She's kneeling by a lamp. Her back is to you. [[Go to Mama.|chp2_39]] [[Run to Mama.|chp2_39]] [[Reach out for Mama.|chp2_39]]\<</type>>

<<type 90ms>>\Mama is here. You draw closer to her. Why won't she look at you? You reach Mama. She finally turns to stare up at you. There is blood. She is covered in it. Her face is red. Blood pours down her cheeks. Mama grabs your shoulders. Her nails dig into your skin. She smiles, her teeth sharp. "My Sweetling," she purrs. "Look at what you have done to me." //[[You have to wake up.|chp2_40]]// ''[[You need to wake up.|chp2_40]]'' ''//[[WAKE UP.|chp2_40]]//''\<</type>>

<<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "chp2" loop play>>Your eyes snap open. For a moment, you cannot see or breathe. It is dark and your heart thunders loudly. You let out a breath. Slowly, the room comes into focus. //You are in Vinia. You are safe.// Pushing away the tangled sheets and blankets, you slip out of the bed. The room feels constricting and it is hard to swallow any air. Sweat runs down your back and you realise that your clothes are stuck to your skin. It was just a nightmare, you tell yourself. Though the way that your heartbeat races tells a different story. Some say that nightmares are bad omens, and you... <<set $nightmare to 0>> [[...agree with this.|chp2_41][$nightmare +=1]] [[...disagree with this, for it was just a bad dream.|chp2_41][$nightmare +=2]] [[...do not know what to think, your mind unable to focus.|chp2_41][$nightmare +=3]]

<<if $nightmare is 1>> Nightmares are more than just dreams. They carry messages of bad omens, communicating to you what is unseen. Your breathing grows shallower. The image of covered in blood still is vivid in your mind. You have not dreamt of Mama since you were a child, yet none were as haunting as the nightmare tonight. <<elseif $nightmare is 2>> Nightmares are just dreams, for they prey on the minds of those with great worries. After everything that has happened, you are surprised that it had taken this long for you to experience a nightmare. Though, seeing Mama's bloodied face and Ahlf determined to kill you has left your breathing erratic. <<elseif $nightmare is 3>> You do not know what to think. How can you? Your heartbeat is racing and your lungs feel like they will burst. You cannot think properly, not when the vivid image of Mama's bleeding face and her grip, painful and strong, still fills your thoughts. <</if>> You look up. The room is dark and the walls seems as if they are growing closer, enclosing you in a hell you are afraid that you cannot escape. You choke on another breath, stumbling away from the room. Prying open the door, you nearly collapse when you emerge into the hallway outside. There are no guards around and the hallway is lit by dimming lamps. You stumble away from your room, uncaring that you are drenched in sweat and that you must look a mess. Eventually, you come to the end of the hallway. A set of stairs wind upwards, seemingly endless in its winding path. To your left, a set of stairs lead farther down, the sound of clashing metal ringing dully in the distance. To your right, there is a large door, which a sliver of cool air seems to slip through, a hint of sweet roses in the breeze. <<set $night_one to 0>> [[You take the stairs going up.|chp2_42a][$night_one +=1]] [[You take the stairs leading farther down.|chp2_42b][$night_one +=2]] [[You push open the large door, seeking the cool air.|chp2_42c][$night_one +=3]]

You continue straight, following the wide staircase which takes you higher into the palace. Uncertain where it might lead, you take comfort in the monotonous stone steps that seem to calm your racing mind. As you begin to think that your choice to follow the staircase was the wrong one, you find yourself walking into a circular chamber. You notice the slats instead of glass windows, allowing for the night's breeze to filter through and realise that this must be one of the towers you had seen from the outside of the palace. "$name?" You startle, your eyes widening as you spin around. A pair of familiar blue eyes find yours, and you let out a relieved breath, expecting a guard instead of Prince Irus. "What are you doing up here?" Prince Irus asks, finally stepping into the tower. The terrifying nightmare flashes through your mind. <<set $nightmare_irus to 0>> [["I couldn't sleep," you murmur, drained.|chp2_42a_1][$nightmare_irus +=1]] [["I had a nightmare," you whisper, shuddering.|chp2_42a_1][$nightmare_irus +=2]] [["I just needed some air," you explain, looking away.|chp2_42a_1][$nightmare_irus +=3]] [["I don't want to talk about it," you mutter.|chp2_42a_1][$nightmare_irus +=4]]

You descend the stairs, following the sounds of clashing metal. As you follow the staircase, a long and narrow path, you feel the air grow cooler and you shiver, suddenly wishing that you had worn something warmer. The longer you descend, the louder the clanging becomes. You come to a stop, at the bottom of the staircase. A large, wooden door sits slightly ajar across from where you stand. You reach for the door, pulling at the brass handle and peer past it. A cold breeze greets you. Beyond the door, an open ground, the terrain neither paved nor grassy sits under the waning moonlight. Numerous wooden figures stand unmoving on one end of the ground and farther back, you notice racks of spears. "$name?" You startle, your eyes darting towards the voice. It is Sir Oren, Captain of the Vinian Royal Guard. "You are not asleep?" he asks, concern in his hazel eyes. "Is something wrong?" <<set $chp2_42b to 0>> [["I had a nightmare," you whisper, feeling a coil of dread in the pit of your stomach.|chp2_42b_1][$chp2_42b +=1]] [["I could not sleep," you mumble, averting your eyes.|chp2_42b_1][$chp2_42b +=2]] [["I don't want to talk about it," you mutter, tired.|chp2_42b_1][$chp2_42b +=3]]

You turn right, pushing the wide doors open. A gust of air brushes against your face, carrying a hint of sweetness in its wake. You peer out and find that the door openes to a large garden. A stone pathway leads from the door, farther into the neatly trimmed hedges and rose bushes. Drinking in the cool, spring air, you step into the garden. It is quiet, the silence only interrupted by the distant hum of of insects. You let out a shaky breath, as your feet carry you deeper into the garden. You continue forward, past a fountain set near an arbor that overlooks a small pond. A row of trees line up on one side of the pond; the other is covered in tall, green grass. A few steps more and you reach a clearing. "$name?" You startle, turning towards the soft voice. Queen Elora stands to your side, donning a heavy cloak and carrying golden tinged shears. You realise that she is not alone. Behind her, two armed guards stand nearby, watching your every movement. "What are you doing out here?" Queen Elora asks. "I thought you would be resting, after your long travels." <<set $chp2_42c to 0>> [["I had a nightmare," you confess, your breathing fast.|chp2_42c_1][$chp2_42c +=1]] [["I could not sleep," you answer, looking away.|chp2_42c_1][$chp2_42c +=2]] [["I do not want to discuss it," you say, frowning.|chp2_42c_1][$chp2_42c +=3]]

<<if $nightmare_irus is 1>> "I couldn't sleep," you murmur, drained. Prince Irus eyebrows furrow and he draws closer to where you stand. His presence has become one that you find yourself growing accustomed to, much like the way you became accustomed to the smell of sea salt in the air. "I heard you," Prince Irus explains, sheepish for a moment. "Earlier, when you went out of your room. I thought that maybe you were..." "What?" you ask. He scratches the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. "I thought that maybe you were trying to run away from everything." <<set $chp2_42a1 to 0>> [["I wouldn't leave you," you breathe.|chp2_42a_2][$chp2_42a1 +=1]] [["If I planned on running away, I'd have invited you along," you chuckle.|chp2_42a_2][$chp2_42a1 +=2]] [["I would be lying if I said that the thought didn't cross my mind," you admit.|chp2_42a_2][$chp2_42a1 +=3]] <<elseif $nightmare_irus is 2>> "I had a nightmare," you whisper, shuddering. You can see Mama's face again and hear your father's cruel laughter ringing in your ears. Your expression must be quite a sight, because Prince Irus draws closer to you, a look of concern lining his eyes. "Are you alright?" he asks. After a moment, he frowns. "I'm sorry. That was a silly question. Of course you're not alright." <<set $chp2_42a1 to 0>> [["I will be alright," you answer, with a soft smile.|chp2_42a_2][$chp2_42a1 +=4]] [["I'm not alright," you agree. "But thank you for worrying."|chp2_42a_2][$chp2_42a1 +=5]] [["I don't know if I'm alright," you confess. "It feels like nothing is alright."|chp2_42a_2][$chp2_42a1 +=6]] <<elseif $nightmare_irus is 3>> "I just needed some air," you explain, looking away. Prince Irus nods in response, his blue eyes scanning the rest of the tower, before he returns his attention onto you. You cannot help but look away from the intensity of his stare, whether it's from the way he looks at you or the way that your nightmare still lingers in the back of your mind. "I see," he replies. "And is that all that you needed?" You frown, taken aback by the sincerity in his tone. <<set $chp2_42a1 to 0>> [["Yes," you breathe. "Just air."|chp2_42a_2][$chp2_42a1 +=7]] [["I just needed to think," you answer, glancing away.|chp2_42a_2][$chp2_42a1 +=8]] [["I don't know what I need," you sigh, exasperated.|chp2_42a_2][$chp2_42a1 +=9]] <<elseif $nightmare_irus is 4>> "I don't want to talk about it," you mutter. Prince Irus raises an eyebrow at you, before he steps closer until you're standing side-by-side. You steal a glance at him and find his eyes lingering on the city below the tower. "How did you know that I was here?" you ask, after a moment. A low chuckle rumbles in his chest, before Prince Irus meets your gaze. "I could hear you stomping around the hallway. You aren't that discreet, $name." "I suppose so," you respond. "You don't need to worry so much," Prince Irus says. "We're safe, even if it's just for a moment." <<set $chp2_42a1 to 0>> [["I know that," you breathe. "I know that we're safe."|chp2_42a_2][$chp2_42a1 +=10]] [["A moment isn't long enough," you reply.|chp2_42a_2][$chp2_42a1 +=11]] [["Nothing can keep me safe, Irus," you answer. "Not even being in Vinia."|chp2_42a_2][$chp2_42a1 +=12]] <</if>>

<<if $chp2_42a1 is 1>> "I wouldn't leave you," you breathe. Prince Irus sucks in a sharp breath, glancing at you. Your words seem to have eased some of the anxious energy that Prince Irus possessed. He opens his mouth, before closing it, mimicking the fish that Ahlf used to catch in his boat. "You don't have to say that," Prince Irus murmurs. "I'm not foolish enough to believe that you'd want to stay here with me." "But I mean it," you say. "We're a team, Irus." Prince Irus smiles, a warm expression filling his face. "Thank you, $name." <<elseif $chp2_42a1 is 2>> "If I planned on running away, I'd have invited you along," you chuckle. Prince Irus seems to catch onto your jest. "Where would we go?" You shrug. "Anywhere we want to. Certainly, we cannot travel back to Cyre what with the Blood Guard being there, but there must be some place that will welcome us." "There are ports in Vinia," Prince Irus replies. "Maybe we can board a ship and sail across the seas." You raise an eyebrow. "Like pirates?" Prince Irus grins. "Exactly like pirates." You laugh in response, feeling the tension that had wound its way around you, ease its grip. <<elseif $chp2_42a1 is 3>> "I would be lying if I said that the thought didn't cross my mind," you admit. Prince Irus lets out a shaky breath. When he glances at you, there is a rueful expression on his face. "I am sorry for dragging you into this," he says. "I did not think that it would all go this wrong." You grow quiet, imagining a life where you had not fled with Prince Irus. What would have happened to you? Would you have found freedom in another land or would you have been slaughtered, like the rest of the residents in Salt Bay? Though you may want to leave, even you can admit that being in Vinia is far better than remaining in Cyre. <<elseif $chp2_42a1 is 4>> "I will be alright," you answer, with a soft smile. "Good," Prince Irus says. "That's good." You look up at him and find that his eyes are warm and his smile, genuine. It is a comforting sight and one that eases the tension that had gripped you earlier. "How did you find me?" you ask, after a moment. Prince Irus looks sheepish, averting his gaze from you. "I suppose I followed you." You raise your eyebrows. "You followed me?" He raises his hands, waving them wildly. "Not in a creepy way, I assure you. I was just tossing about in my room when I heard footsteps so I thought to find out what was happening and then I saw you and..." "And you followed me to the tower," you answer. Prince Irus nods. "Exactly. See, it's not so creepy." You laugh, the sound cause Prince Irus to smile endearingly at you. <<elseif $chp2_42a1 is 5>> "I'm not alright," you agree. "But thank you for worrying." Prince Irus shrugs, shooting you a pleased look. "Of course I worry. It's what a good future ruler does. He worries about his subjects." You cast prince Irus a frown, taking in the pride in the way he spoke the words. Had he practised that before saying it to you, you wonder? He meets your eyes, expectation in his own. You realise that he is waiting for your reply. "I... thank you?" you answer. "You need not look so horrified, $name," Prince Irus laughs. "I was just teasing you." "Maybe you should try being a jester sometime," you reply, smiling. Prince Irus' eyes are alight with mirth when he glances at you, a warmth that soothes the tension in your bones. <<elseif $chp2_42a1 is 6>> "I don't know if I'm alright," you confess. "It feels like nothing is alright." Prince Irus frowns, a look of sympathy in his gaze. Perhaps you are reading too much into his expression, but a flicker of the same pain flashes through his own gaze too. "It does feel like that," Prince Irus murmurs. "A few months ago, I never thought that I would have to flee my home to escape my own uncle." You shrug. "I've been fleeing my entire life. It doesn't get any easier." Prince Irus looks at you softly. "Maybe it gets easier when you're not fleeing alone." You let out a laugh, despite yourself. "Maybe." <<elseif $chp2_42a1 is 7>> "Yes," you breathe. "Just air." Prince Irus steps closer to where you stand, his eyes glancing over the city below the tower. The breeze ruffles his hair, the blond curls dancing in its hold. Turning, Prince Irus' gaze finds yours. "Air is good," he answers. "Sometimes, I find myself needing a little time to breathe, even if we do it all the time." You nod, turning away then, allowing your breathing to slow. The shallow pants that had made it hard to breathe have eased now, in part to the cool air and in part from Prince Irus' soothing voice. <<elseif $chp2_42a1 is 8>> "I just needed to think," you answer, glancing away. Prince Irus draws closer to where you stand. He offers you a smile, one that makes him seem younger and carefree. "Thinking too much can lead to aging faster," he explains. You frown, glancing at him. "What?" Prince Irus runs a thumb over his face, still youthful and smooth. "See, I look half my age and all because I don't think too much." "You sound mad," you huff. "You barely look half your age. If anything, I'd wager you look older." Prince Irus throws you a wounded look. "We both know that is untrue, $name." You let out a laugh, the tension from earlier easing. "I do not think so." <<elseif $chp2_42a1 is 9>> "I don't know what I need," you sigh, exasperated. "Maybe a good night's rest?" Prince Irus offers. You let out a shuddering breath, feeling the tiredness seeping into your bones. Perhaps you had been too hopeful in thinking that evrything would have been better after arriving at Vinia. "Maybe," you mumble. "Though as you can see, it has not been going well." Prince Irus nods, glancing away from you. His gaze shifts onto the city, below the tower. "Sometimes, not even sleep is enough to calm the mind," he says. "Though a friendly face can help." "You're referring to yourself?" you ask. Prince Irus grins widely. "Do you see any other friendly face around?" <<elseif $chp2_42a1 is 10>> "I know that," you breathe. "I know that we're safe." Prince Irus takes a few steps towards you, offering you a wry smile. "But it doesn't feel that way?" he asks. You shrug, averting your gaze. The nightmare still grips your mind tightly, the images of your mother and father refusing to leave. While you are safe for now, in Vinia, it does nothing to protect you from your own mind. <<elseif $chp2_42a1 is 11>> "A moment isn't long enough," you reply. Prince Irus sucks in a shaky breath, his eyes settling on the city below. There is a distant look in his gaze, a frown tugging at the corners of his lips. He does not answer, not for a while and you begin to think that it is the end of your conversation. "I know," he breathes, interrupting the silence. "It's not enough." You blink, glancing up at Prince Irus. His admission takes you by surprise, but perhaps after the less than hopeful response by Queen Elora, Prince Irus is no longer as certain in your success. Sensing that his tone has not inspired much, Prince Irus glances at you with a weak smile. "But it's better than nothing," he says. And even though you want to disagree, you find yourself nodding, if only to comfort your own racing mind. <<elseif $chp2_42a1 is 12>> "Nothing can keep me safe, Irus," you answer. "Not even being in Vinia." Prince Irus lets his gaze travel below the tower. The city of Aspal is dark, only the lanterns which light up the streets glowing faintly. When Prince Irus turns to look at you once more, there is a determined look in his gaze. "You are safe here, $name," he says. "And even if the Blood Guard find us in Vinia, even if Sir Oren cannot keep us safe from them, I will make certain that you are protected." You blink, staring up at Prince Irus in surprise. There is a steady look in his eyes, a type of stubborness that will lead to him to his death. Knowing that Prince Irus seems to care about your well-being, enough to make bold declarations, settles the nerves that had been squeezing your chest tightly. <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_42a_3]]

A quiet silence settles over the both of you. It is not as heavy as it had been and you let out a deep breath, feeling the exhaustion and worry leave you momentarily. Prince Irus steps towards the edge of the tower, peering through the wooden slats that expose the city of Aspal below. "This was one of my favourite towers," he murmurs. "I used to pretend that this tower was my palace when I was a child." Your eyebrows furrow. "You've been here before?" Prince Irus startles, as if not realising that he had spoken aloud. "I have," he says, after a moment. "When I was still a child." [[Next.|chp2_42a_4]]

You still do not know anything about Prince Irus and his relationship with Queen Elora. He has not spoken much about his past and if you are to find out anything about him, you realise that the only way is to ask. <<linkreplace "You question Prince Irus about his relationship with Queen Elora." t8n>>"You and Queen Elora are friends?" you ask. A smile pulls at his lips, and there is a warmth in his eyes as he replies, "We are. When I was younger, my father thought that I would benefit from visiting neighbouring kingdoms. He sent me to Vinia, after learning that Ellie was close in age to me." You frown, his answer only raising more questions.<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You ask him how often he has been in Vinia." t8n>>"How many times did you visit Vinia?" "It was mostly the summer months during my childhood," Prince Irus explains. "King Ishtar and my father had thought that by sending me to Vinia, the two kingdoms would grow closer."<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You ask Prince Irus what he means by the two kingdoms growing closer." t8n>>You glance at Prince Irus, who still watches the city of Aspal below. The question is out of your mouth, before you can stop it. "How would the kingdoms become closer with you in Vinia?" you question. Prince Irus raises an eyebrow at you, as if the answer is clear. "I mean through marriage, $name. Ellie's father and my own thought that a marriage between the two of us would bring Vinia and Cyre together."<</linkreplace>> [[End your questions.|chp2_42a_5]]

Prince Irus' words fill your mind. His familiarity with the city now makes sense and more especially, his relationship with Queen Elora. It is clear that a political marriage seemed to have been discussed in the past, though whether there was any feelings between Prince Irus and Queen Elora is one that he has not answered. "What happened with the possible marriage?" you ask. Prince Irus shrugs, but there is a bitterness in his voice when he says, "The arrangement fell apart. King Ishtar had only agreed to the prospect of uniting the kingdoms through marriage if my father ended his war against Ishari." "And how did Queen Elora feel? How did you feel?" you ask. A bark of laughter escapes his mouth as he looks at you. "Do not tell me that you are jealous, $name," he teases. "There are no feelings between me and Ellie, or at least none that I am aware of." <<set $chp2_42a_5 to 0>><<set $irus_chp2_kiss to false>><<set $shymoment to false>> [[♡"I am not jealous," you protest, despite the heat in your cheeks.|chp2_42a_6][$chp2_42a_5 +=1, $flirt_shy +=5, $irusRom +=5, $shymoment to true]] [[♡"And if I am jealous?" you ask, smirking.|chp2_42a_6][$chp2_42a_5 +=2, $flirt_bold +=5, $irusRom +=5, $irus_chp2_kiss to true]] [["Maybe I'm asking because I am interested in the young Queen," you reply.|chp2_42a_6][$chp2_42a_5 +=3]] [["I am only curious," you laugh.|chp2_42a_6][$chp2_42a_5 +=4]] [["Don't flatter yourself," you grumble.|chp2_42a_6][$chp2_42a_5 +=5]]

<<if $chp2_42a_5 is 1>> "I am not jealous," you protest, despite the heat in your cheeks. A smug glint fills his blue eyes, and Prince Irus casts you a knowing look. You want to hide, to throw yourself from the top of the tower. Averting your gaze from Prince Irus, you try to calm your racing heart. "Do not pout," Prince Irus murmurs, suddenly too close. "You will always have my attention, should you want it." He places a hand on the wall, leaning closer until he is nearly eye level with you. His fingers trail lightly across your cheek as he cups your chin, lifting it slightly so that you are forced to stare into his eyes. The smile on his face widens, and you feel yourself grow faint. <<if $bath_oil is 1>>"You smell like spice," he breathes.<<elseif $bath_oil is 2>>"You smell like a summer's day," he breathes.<<elseif $bath_oil is 3>>"You smell sweet," he breathes.<</if>> You jerk back, certain that your face is aflame with embarrassment. Looking away, you step back, nearly stumbling over your feet in your haste to put some distance between you and Prince Irus. <<elseif $chp2_42a_5 is 2>> "And if I am jealous?" you ask, smirking. Prince Irus matches your grin, his eyes shining with amusement. He draws closer, until you are both facing each other. This close, you are able to smell the soap on his skin, a hint of spice in his new attire. "Then I will have to assuage your worries," he purrs. "Oh? And how will you do that?" you ask, holding your breath. He leans even closer, so that the warmth of his breath brushes against your face. The fullness of his lips is so close that if you tilted your face, you would be able to kiss him. Prince Irus' eyes find yours, before they trace along your features, settling on your mouth. "I would kiss them away," he breathes. Heat spreads through your body and you are flush with warmth as Prince Irus' eyes find yours. His words send a tingle of anticipation down your spine. A smirk tugs at Prince Irus' lips and he leans closer. His lips are warm, but they do not find yours. Instead, he presses a delicate peck, against the corner of your lips. Pulling away before you can have a chance to comprehend the softness of his mouth, he casts you a grin. "Better?" he asks. "Yes," you manage. <<elseif $chp2_42a_5 is 3>> "Maybe I'm asking because I am interested in the young Queen," you reply. <<if $irusRom gte 1>> A flicker of surprise and perhaps, something more akin to jealousy flashes past Prince Irus' gaze. He looks away and clears his throat, the moment broken.<<else>>A flicker of amusement fills Prince Irus' gaze and when he gazes at you, there is a mirthfulness to his expression.<</if>> "Interested in Ellie then?" he asks, a hint of a laugh in his tone. "Would that be so wrong?" you ask. He shrugs, grinning sideways at you. "No, it wouldn't. Though I'd wager you would be joining at least half of Vinia in your interest in Ellie." You match his smile, your eyes settling over the rest of the darkened city of Aspal. "I suppose I would be." Prince Irus nudges your shoulder with his own, smirking now. "At least you have the advantage of spending time in the palace. Not everyone is that lucky, $name. And who knows, maybe Ellie would be as interested in you as you are in her." <<elseif $chp2_42a_5 is 4>> "I am only curious," you laugh. Prince Irus throws his head back, a burst of laughter spilling forth from his lips. In this moment, he seems so carefree that you cannot help but smile in response. "Curious is what they all say," Prince Irus teases. You punch his shoulder lightly, drawing a wounded sound from Prince Irus. "I am serious," you say. "I was only wondering." Prince Irus lowers his voice, glancing at you conspiratorially. "If you must know, Ellie normally spends time in the gardens. I'm not saying that you're interested, but if you so happen to come across Ellie, I won't tell her anything." You scoff, shoving Prince Irus good-naturedly. "I'm not interested in the Queen." "Oh? Then is it me?" Prince Irus laughs. "Do not tell me that you're attracted to Sir Oren." You huff, letting out a breath despite the smile on your face. <<elseif $chp2_42a_5 is 5>> "Don't flatter yourself," you grumble. Prince Irus chuckles, amused by your response. Running a hand through his blond hair, he leans against the wall of the tower, his eyes seeking out yours in the darkness. There is a calm stillness about standing with him out here in the tower. There are no sounds of the palace servants, or the guards that must patrol the palace grounds at night. It is almost peaceful and for a moment, you are able to forget all about the horrors that you have had to endure in the past few days. "Is is so wrong to be jealous?" Prince Irus asks. You roll your eyes. "Yes, it is. Besides, I'm not jealous. You and the Queen can do whatever you want." Prince Irus nods, satisfied by your answer. "You're right, $name. We can do whatever we want." <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_42a_7]]

The conversation lulls and for a moment, you are both bathed in the silence that comes after darkness. Your eyes drift towards the city of Aspal, the tall buildings, white under the waning moon. In the distance, you spot the temple rooftops and beyond that, the sound of the raging sea. The kingdom of Vinia is not like Cyre. People did not seem to care about your Ishari heritage and you cannot deny how freeing it felt. "What are you thinking about?" Prince Irus asks, his voice breaking the silence. "It's different here," you answer. "No one cared that I was half-Ishari." Prince Irus shrugs. "Most in Vinia don't. Some in Cyre don't care either." Your eyes find Prince Irus'. His gaze is intense, an unwavering promise of the sincerity of his words. "You don't care?" you ask. "If I cared, do you really think that I would have let you travel with me?" he counters. "I suppose not," you murmur. [[Next.|chp2_42a_8]]

A yawn escapes Prince Irus' lips and you realise how late it must be. Your nightmare had drawn you out of bed, though there had been no reason for Prince Irus to remain for as long as he did with you. "It's late," you say. Prince Irus nods in agreement. "It is. Come on, we should get back to our rooms before we're caught up here." You and Prince Irus descend the wide staircase, finding your way back to the long hallway where your rooms are situated. Your room is first and Prince Irus hesitates a moment, glancing at you. <<if $irusRom gte 6 and $irus_chp2_kiss is true>> Without warning, he draws closer, placing a brief kiss on your cheek. The contact sends tingles down your spine and when he pulls away, you feel yourself longing for his touch. "Good night, $name," Prince Irus breathes before turning away. <<elseif $irusRom gte 6>> Prince Irus reaches out, his fingers trailing along your cheek. His touch sends tingles down your spine and you find yourself letting out a sharp breath, heat spreading across your face. He draws his hand away, a soft look in his eyes. "Good night, $name," Prince Irus murmurs, before turning away. <<else>> "Good night," Prince Irus says, offering you a smile. You watch as he turns away, returning to his own room farther down the hallway. <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_43]]

<<if $irus_chp2_kiss is true>> Your cheek still tingles where Prince Irus' mouth had pressed against your skin. You bring your fingers up, touching your cheek, feeling a shiver of delight running down your spine. The feel of his lips is seared into your memory and you find yourself settling into your bed, no longer afraid but now, anticipating seeing the Prince in your dreams. <<elseif $irus_chp2_kiss is false and $irusRom gte 6>> Your cheek still tingles where Prince Irus had brushed his fingers against your skin. There is a searing warmth on your cheek and you press your own fingers into your skin, but the warmth does not fade. When you slip into your bed, you find yourself no longer afraid of having another nightmare. Instead, you close your eyes, hoping to see Prince Irus in your dreams. <<else>> You let out a deep breath, no longer tense and afraid as you had been when you had your nightmare. Stretching your arms above your head, you approach your bed with a yawn. This time when you sleep, you know that it will not be another nightmare that greets you. <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_44]]

<<if $chp2_42b is 1>> "I had a nightmare," you whisper, feeling a coil of dread in the pit of your stomach. The words invoke the memories of your mother's bloodied face and your father's callous laughter. It sends a shiver down your spine and your fingers begin to tremble. You suck in a sharp breath, trying to control your fear but nothing seems to work. "$name," Sir Oren breathes. He reaches out, placing a gloved hand on your shoulder. He is solid, a grounding force that draws you from your racing thoughts. "It is alright. It is only a nightmare." "I..." you manage. He offers you a kind smile, a warmth in his expression. There is no judgment in his gaze, no condescension as he watches you. "It is alright," he repeats. <<elseif $chp2_42b is 2>> "I could not sleep," you mumble, averting your eyes. You refrain from telling him about your nightmare, the way that your mother's bloodied face haunts you or how your father tried to kill you. You shudder, keeping your eyes away from Sir Oren's face, afraid to see his expression and afraid that he might be judging you. "I see," Sir Oren says. "It seems that we both share the same ailment then." You glance up, finding Sir Oren smiling at you. There is a warmth in his gaze, one that lacks any form of judgment that you had been worried to see in his eyes. "You cannot sleep either?" you ask. Sir Oren nods, gesturing towards the training ground. "I couldn't sleep either. So I came here." <<elseif $chp2_42b is 3>> "I don't want to talk about it," you mutter, tired. The force of your tone is betrayed by the slight tremble in your fingers. You do not want to talk about your nightmare, not to Sir Oren. Still, even as you try to forget your mother's bloodied face and your father's callous laughter, you find your heartbeat thundering loudly. As if sensing your turmoil, Sir Oren glances at you with a kind smile. "It is alright," he murmurs. "We do not have to talk about anything, if you do not want." You worry your lower lip, gazing at the Captain. "Why are you here? Do you not get any rest or do you spend all your time patrolling the city?" A rumble of laughter escapes Sir Oren's lips, the sound a deep baritone that fills the empty space of the grounds. "I do get rest, $name," he chuckles. "And I do not patrol the city endlessly. Tonight, I was tasked with remaining in the palace but I could not sleep so I found myself here." <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_42b_2]]

Your gaze travels across the large ground, weapons neatly stacked in wooden racks and the wooden figures chipped where they must have been struck. No longer gripped fiercely by your nightmare, you allow yourself a moment to take in Sir Oren's appearance. He wears a sleeveless doublet, a dark leather that emphasises his muscular physique. There is sweat along his dark eyebrows and his hair sits in a mess, as if he has run his fingers through the strands. Sir Oren notices your inspection of him and flushes. "I came out here to train," he explains, a sheepish grin on his face. Sir Oren gestures towards the sword, sheathed and strapped to his hip. "The training grounds was commissioned by Her Majesty, when she began her own training. She lets the guards use it whenever we need to and I find myself spending most of my nights here, when I cannot sleep." You nod, your eyes once more returning to the circular training ground. "We could spar if you want," Sir Oren says, casting you a sidelong glance. "It might help you sleep." You do not get a moment to respond, as Sir Oren strides towards a rack where wooden swords are kept. He unstraps his own blade, before grabbing two of the nearest wooden swords and makes his way back towards you. "Here," he says, thrusting the wooden sword towards you. "I will go easy on you." <<set $chp2_42b_2 to 0>> [["I do not even know how to fight," you splutter.|chp2_42b_3][$chp2_42b_2 +=1]] [["I do not need you to go easy on me," you retort.|chp2_42b_3][$chp2_42b_2 +=2]] [["What am I supposed to do with this?" you ask, staring at the wooden blade.|chp2_42b_3][$chp2_42b_2 +=3]]

<<if $chp2_42b_2 is 1>> "I do not even know how to fight," you splutter. Sir Oren grins at you, though it lacks the warmth you have become accustomed to. A gleam of amusement flashes through his eyes and you suddenly regret having followed the staircase to the training ground. "Do not worry," Sir Oren replies. "You will learn." <<elseif $chp2_42b_2 is 2>> "I do not need you to go easy on me," you retort. "Oh? You are an expert then," Sir Oren chuckles. "I will keep that in mind when I defeat you." Your eyebrows furrow and your lips pull down into a scowl. Just because you are not a trained guard does not mean that you need to be coddled. You will show Sir Oren that you are not weak or to be underestimated. <<elseif $chp2_42b_2 is 3>> "What am I supposed to do with this?" you ask, staring at the wooden blade. Sir Oren glances at the wooden blade in your palm. Frowning, he reaches out and adjusts your grip around the hilt. You test your grip around the wooden blade, feeling its weight in your hold. "You fight with it, $name," Sir Oren explains. "That is what you do." <</if>> Gesturing for you to follow him, Sir Oren leads you towards the middle of the training grounds. Circular stone circles dot the ground and you watch as Sir Oren steps inside one of them. "The rules are simple," he says. "Whoever steps out of the ring first, loses." [["We're really doing this then," you sigh as you step inside the ring.|chp2_42b_4]] [["Do not get comfortable in there," you taunt. "I will have you out of the ring in under a minute."|chp2_42b_4]] [["Most people would stare at the stars and contemplate their problems instead," you huff, joining Sir Oren in the ring.|chp2_42b_4]]

As you take your spot across from Sir Oren, you tighten your grip around the hilt of the wooden sword. You are not a trained fighter, nor have you had much experience with weaponary. By the way Sir Oren holds his weapon, you know that the Captain is quite the skilled swordsman. For a moment, neither of you move. You watch Sir Oren's sword, your eyes drifting to his feet that stand apart. In battle, you do not doubt that Sir Oren is a fearsome opponent and are suddenly grateful that neither of you are using real weapons for your spar. Sir Oren strikes first and the only warning you get is the sound of the wooden blade, slicing through the air. His blade meets your shoulder, not hard enough to be painful but enough to rouse a surprised shout from you. <<if $chp2_42b_2 is 1>> "Come, $name," Sir Oren laughs. "I did not think that you were this poor a fighter." You frown, rubbing at your shoulder. "I told you that I did not know how to fight." "That is no excuse," he replies, smirking. "Raise your sword and try to dodge next time."<<elseif $chp2_42b_2 is 2>> "You did not want me to go easy on you, $name," Sir Oren chuckles. "Perhaps I should?" You scowl, rubbing at your shoulder. "That was just me going easy on you. Next time, you won't get so lucky." Sir Oren lets out a booming laugh. "I look forward to it. Now come, raise your sword and try to dodge next time."<<else>> "You are meant to raise your sword up to stop me from striking you," Sir Oren laughs. You frown, rubbing at the sore spot on your shoulder. "I do not know how to use a sword." "That much is true," Sir Oren replies, grinning at you. "Come, try to fight back at least or this won't be much of a fight." <</if>> Sir Oren raises his own blade once more, before charging towards you. <<set $chp2_42b_4 to 0>><<set $oren_fight to 0>> [[You dodge.|chp2_42b_5][$chp2_42b_4 +=1, $oren_fight +=1]] [[You parry.|chp2_42b_5][$chp2_42b_4 +=2, $oren_fight +=1]] [[You strike.|chp2_42b_5][$chp2_42b_4 +=3]]

<<if $chp2_42b_4 is 1>> You manage to dart out of reach, as Sir Oren's blade cuts through where you had been standing only moments before. He glances at you, grinning as he draws back his blade and faces you. <<elseif $chp2_42b_4 is 2>> You raise your sword, the wood clashing with Sir Oren's as you struggle to push his blade away from your own. He is strong, you realise as you force away his blade with your own. Your arms quake, though it seems that you have managed to protect yourself for now. <<elseif $chp2_42b_4 is 3>> You strike out with your own sword, hoping to shove Sir Oren closer towards the edge of the ring. He notices your lunge and brings his own sword to parry your strike, successfully shoving you backwards. You glance down, catching sight of the edge of the ring and grit your teeth. <</if>> Sir Oren does not relent, circling you as he moves. You follow his movements with your eyes, alert for another attack. He does not strike and you realise that he is waiting for you to make the first move this time. <<set $chp2_42b_5 to 0>> [[You lunge.|chp2_42b_6][$chp2_42b_5 +=1, $oren_fight +=1]] [[You wait.|chp2_42b_6][$chp2_42b_5 +=2, $oren_fight +=1]] [[You feint.|chp2_42b_6][$chp2_42b_5 +=3, $oren_fight +=1]]

<<if $chp2_42b_5 is 1>> You lunge forward, your sword raised. Sir Oren is ready for you and raises his own blade to counter your attack. He strikes at your blade fiercely and your grip loosens around the hilt. Sensing this, Sir Oren pushes forward, managing to strike once more. This time, your blade slips from your hold, falling uselessly to the ground, too far for you to reach. <<elseif $chp2_42b_5 is 2>> You do not make the first move, instead you watch Sir Oren. He will not beat you in this game of waiting, you think as you circle each other. Moments become minutes and you feel a bead of sweat rolling down your spine. Perhaps restless from waiting, Sir Oren raises his blade and strikes. You manage to parry the blow, though your grip is shaky around the hilt of your sword. Sensing this, Sir Oren presses forward once more, this time his strike sends your sword flying. It lands with an audible thump, too far to reach. <<elseif $chp2_42b_5 is 3>> You feint left, intending to take Sir Oren by surprise. But the Captain is far better at reading your signals that you thought for he easily counters your strike, pressing his wooden sword roughly against your own. It hurts to hold his blade at bay and your grip around the hilt of your sword loosens. Sensing this, Sir Oren presses forward and shoves harder, sending your sword through the air. It lands with an audible thump, out of your reach. <</if>> Weaponless, you are left to face Sir Oren who watches you with mild amusement. "You have fought well, $name," he states. "I will not fault you for yielding." <<set $chp2_42_7 to 0>> [[You yield.|chp2_42b_7][$chp2_42_7 +=1]] [[You tackle Sir Oren.|chp2_42b_7][$chp2_42_7 +=2, $oren_fight +=1]] [[You kick at his legs.|chp2_42b_7][$chp2_42_7 +=3, $oren_fight +=1]]

<<if $chp2_42_7 is 1>> "Fine," you pant. "I yield." Sir Oren offers you a smile, before he grips your hand in his large one and shakes it. You are only grateful that Sir Oren does not seem as unaffected as you had expected him to be. His breathing is laboured and there is a sheen of sweat against his skin. "Well fought, $name," Sir Oren says. "There is no shame in yielding. With training, I believe you will become an excellent fighter." You smile in response, preening under his words. Sir Oren does not seem like the type to dole out such praise without meaning it. <<elseif $chp2_42_7 is 2>> You ignore Sir Oren's words, instead you lunge towards him with your arms outstretched. Perhaps expecting you to yield, Sir Oren lets out a surprised yell as you tackle him to the ground. The both of you land with a hard thud, with Sir Oren sprawled on the ground beneath you. <<if $oren_fight gte 3>>Glancing up, you let out a triumphant whoop when you notice that you have managed to tackle Sir Oren hard enough that he landed outside the ring. Sir Oren realises his defeat and laughs good-naturedly in response. "It seems that I have been bested by you." You grin, standing up. "It seems that you have." <<else>>Glancing up, you let out a groan as you realise that despite your tackle, Sir Oren is still inside the ring. Sir Oren notices your glum expression and offers you a kind smile. "Do not despair, $name," he says. "You fought well and did not give up. That counts for more than simply winning." You nod, standing up as you smile at Sir Oren. "I suppose you are right.<</if>> <<elseif $chp2_42_7 is 3>> You glance down, at Sir Oren's legs. He seems to expect you to yield and perhaps you should. You are weaponless and Sir Oren is a skilled swordsman. Still, you do not intend on giving up without a fight. You charge towards Sir Oren with a shout and the Captain can only stare at you in surprise. Raising your leg, you swing it towards him with all your strength. You are rewarded by the audible grunt that escapes Sir Oren as your foot makes contact with his chest. He stumbles backwards, the momentum of your kick sending him towards the outer edge of the ring. <<if $oren_fight gte 3>>Sir Oren staggers, his feet carrying him over the edge of the ring and you let out a triumphant whoop. Sir Oren blinks, gazing down at his feet. "You actually bested me," Sir Oren marvels, his eyes wide and glimmering with admiration. You grin widely. "I did." Sir Oren chuckles, gazing up at you with a warm smile. "I suppose congratulations are in order, $name. You are far more skilled than I thought."<<else>>Despite the strength of your kick, Sir Oren manages to regain his footing. You grumble in disappointment when he remains safely within the ring. Catching your look, Sir Oren offers you a kind smile. "Not every battle ends in victory. Take courage in knowing that you fought well, $name. You sigh, though find yourself smiling in return. "I suppose I did."<</if>> <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_42b_8]]

With the sparring now over, Sir Oren gathers your wooden swords and stack them neatly in the rack from where he retrieved them earlier. Your heart is racing, though now, it comes from the exertion that follows sparring and not from the nightmare you had experienced. Sir Oren returns to where you stand, smiling warmly. "I suppose that is enough sparring for one night. Allow me to escort you to your room, $name." <<set $chp2_42b_8 to 0>> [["I would like that," you answer with a smile.|chp2_42b_9][$chp2_42b_8 +=1, $orenRel +=3]] [[♡"I-If you insist," you mumble, flustered under his gaze.|chp2_42b_9][$chp2_42b_8 +=2, $orenRel +=3, $orenRom +=5, $shy_oren +=5]] [[♡"I suppose I could use a strong escort like you," you reply, teasing.|chp2_42b_9][$chp2_42b_8 +=3, $orenRel +=3, $orenRom +=5, $bold_oren +=5]] [["If you insist," you huff.|chp2_42b_9][$chp2_42b_8 +=4]]

<<if $chp2_42b_8 is 1>> "I would like that," you answer with a smile. Sir Oren returns your smile and you follow him as he leads you back into the palace. Together, you ascend the staircase, walking in companionable silence. There is a quiet calmness with Sir Oren by your side, his solid frame and heavy footsteps, which keep your thoughts at bay. Despite his strength, there is a gentleness in the way that he walks, a genuine sense of consideration for you as you walk together. Eventually, you both reach the hallway, where your chamber is located. Sir Oren follows as you lead him to your doorway, not as troubled as you had been when you had left. "I suppose I should bid you a good night," Sir Oren says, smiling. "Rest easy, $name and know that if you ever need to clear your mind, the training ground will be open to you." "Thank you Sir Oren," you answer. "Good night." Sir Oren waits for you to enter your chamber before he departs, waving at you as he does. <<elseif $chp2_42b_8 is 2>> "I-If you insist," you mumble, flustered under his gaze. Sir Oren glances at you, smiling softly at your response. You think there is a touch of redness in his cheeks, but Sir Oren looks away from your stare, ducking his head. "It is easy to become lost in the palace hallways," Sir Oren explains, clearing his throat. "So it would be my honour to escort you back." He reaches out, smoothing down his ruffled hair and offers you a warm smile. You would be lying if you said that the gesture did not send a wave of longing through you. Swallowing a shallow breath, one that has nothing to do with your spar with Sir Oren, you nod in agreement. Sir Oren beams, a smile that causes his expression to light up and you cannot help by gawk at him. He is handsome, an attractive face made more so by his muscular frame. You hear Sir Oren cough, and you blink, realising that he has caught you staring. "Shall we go?" you ask, your voice strained. "Of course," Sir Oren replies. You ascend the stairs in silence, though you worry that the thundering of your heartbeat can be heard by Sir Oren at your side. Eventually, you arrive at the long hallway where your chamber is located and you let out a relieved breath. You do not wish for Sir Oren to witness anymore of your embarrassment. Sir Oren follows you to your door, pausing as you struggle to turn the doorknob. He laughs, reaching out, his fingers brushing yours as he turns the knob. "They are tricky things," he chuckles. "Good night $name. Sleep well and know that you can come to me whenever you need to clear your mind." "I... thank you," you manage. Sir Oren waves lightly before he departs farther down the hallway. <<elseif $chp2_42b_8 is 3>> "I suppose I could use a strong escort like you," you reply, teasing. Sir Oren lets out a choked sound and for a moment, you're afraid that something must have gotten caught in his throat. When Sir Oren meets your gaze, you are surprised by the red tinge coating his face. He is blushing, you realise and you find yourself smirking in response. "Whatever is the matter, Sir Oren?" you ask, feigning innocence. "Did our sparring make you all hot and bothered?" "What- No!" Sir Oren protests, his eyes wide and his blush darkening. Your smirk widens. "Oh? Then you must be blushing, although I am not certain why. Is there something you need to tell me?" Sir Oren looks away, running a shaky hand through his hair. He glances at your furtively, only to look away once more when your eyes meet. You cannot help the delight that courses through you, as you witness the Captain's flustering. You can only imagine how he would respond if you were to kiss him. "It is late," Sir Oren says, his voice strained. "I will take you back to your room." You laugh, following after Sir Oren as he marches ahead. Together, you ascend the narrow staircase before reaching the hallway where your chamber is located. Sir Oren is silent, refusing to meet your gaze even as he follows you to your door. "Good night," Sir Oren breathes, finally looking your way. "It would be a really good night if you kissed-" Sir Oren splutters, his face red. "Good night," he intterupts, darting away before you can speak. <<elseif $chp2_42b_8 is 4>> "If you insist," you huff. Sir Oren casts you a sideways glance before sighing. "The palace hallways are not so easy to navigate, $name. I will escort you back." It is clear that Sir Oren will not leave you alone, perhaps he fears that you will attack the Queen or steal some precious artefacts if you're left to wander the palace alone. Grumbling under your breath, you follow Sir Oren up the narrow staircase. The both of you walk in silence, the only sounds which follow you are the heavy footsteps of Sir Oren's boots against the stone steps. Eventually, you arrive at the hallway where your chamber is located. Sir Oren follows you to your door and waits until you are inside your chamber. "Good night, $name," he says. "Know that you are welcome to clear your mind at the training ground whenever you need it." He nods to you, before departing down the hallway. <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_43b]]

You slip into your chamber, no longer heavy with the fear that plagued you from your nightmare. Being around Sir Oren has helped ease your mind and you let out a breath. Moving towards the bath chamber, you begin to wipe away the grime and sweat from your earlier spar with Sir Oren.<<if $orenRom gte 2>> A warmth spreads through your chest, as you think about the kindness he showed you and the flustered expression he wore as he walked you back to your room.<<else>> You smile, knowing that after your spar with Sir Oren, you will be too tired to dream.<</if>> Yawning, you slide under the bed covers and hope that your exhaustion wards away any nightmares. [[Next.|chp2_44]]

You are roused by the morning light, filtering through the large windows of your room. A yawn escapes you, and you sit up, rubbing at the sleep gathered under your eyelids. As you examine your room, you find that the tray of food from last night and your rumpled clothes have been taken away. A fresh set of clothes has been laid out on a nearby chair and you slip out of the warmth of the covers. <<if $night_one is 1>> Your mind drifts back to the previous night and the conversation you had shared with Prince Irus in the tower. You certainly discovered more about him, but there are still so many unanswered questions you have about his past and his plans. <<if $irus_chp2_kiss is true>>But there was more than that. Last night, Prince Irus kissed you. Twice. Your fingers graze against your cheek, still feeling the outline of his lips against it. You are still unsure what it all means for you or Prince Irus. Though one thing is certain, there is an obvious attraction between the both of you.<<elseif $shymoment is true>>Your face flushes at the memory of Prince Irus' proximity, his fingers dancing along your face. There had been a moment that you shared last night that had left you reeling, longing for more. You do not know what this means for Prince Irus or you, though it is clear that there is mutual attraction between the both of you.<</if>> <<elseif $night_one is 2>> Your mind drifts back to the previous night and your sparring against Sir Oren. Sir Oren had been a steady presence and even if you were not the most skilled, the exertion of swinging a wooden blade had left you exhausted and without another dream in sight. <<if $bold_oren gte 1>>There had been a moment when Sir Oren seemed flustered by your teasing and you find your lips tugging into a smirk as you think about his reddened cheeks. He is easily embarrassed, despite his role as a Captain, a thought that sends a thrill down your spine.<<elseif $shy_oren gte 1>>Sir Oren had been kind to you last night, kinder than most people have ever been to you. Perhaps it is the genuine way that he seemed to care for you that makes you flush warmly at the thought of seeing him again.<</if>> <<elseif $night_one is 3>> Your mind drifts back to the previous night, when you had visited the palace gardens with Queen Elora. The rose buds she had given you last night, lie crushed under your pillow. Even if it is only a tale, you had no more nightmares upon falling asleep. Your conversation had taken a more serious note when you both discussed Prince Irus and you can only hope that she will have better news for the both of you today. <<if $bold_elora gte 2>>Last night, the young Queen had insinuated spending more time together and you found yourself warming to her touch. Regardless of how she might feel about Prince Irus, you cannot deny that you and Queen Elora shared a moment last night.<<elseif $shy_elora gte 2>>Last night, the young Queen brushed her fingers against your flushed face and you shiver at the memory of her touch. She had been warm, a sight that had stolen your breath and left you desperate for more. Whatever Queen Elora might feel about Prince Irus' claim to Cyre, it is clear that the both of you shared a moment.<</if>> <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_45]]

<<if $chp2_42c is 1>> "I had a nightmare," you confess, your breathing fast. Queen Elora's eyebrows furrow and she takes a few steps towards you. Her guards tense, moving to stop her but he raises a hand and the guards step back.<<if $height is "tall">> The Queen has to look up when she speaks to you, her head barely reach your shoulder.<<elseif $height is "average">> The Queen stares directly into you eyes and you realise that you are both around the same height.<<elseif $height is "short">> Queen Elora smiles at you and you have to raise your eyes slightly to meet her own. She is taller than you, but not by much.<</if>> "I am sorry, $name," she whispers. "I know how terrifying they can be." You frown, glancing at Queen Elora. Her dark eyes dart towards the garden. "I come here to think and for peace," she explains. "Perhaps you should join me?" <<elseif $chp2_42c is 2>> "I could not sleep," you answer, looking away. Queen Elora glances at you, her eyes softening with understanding. She steps towards you and instantly, her guards step forward to stop her. Raising a hand to wave them away, Queen Elora continues until she is standing across from you.<<if $height is "tall">> The Queen has to look up when she speaks to you, her head barely reach your shoulder.<<elseif $height is "average">> The Queen stares directly into you eyes and you realise that you are both around the same height.<<elseif $height is "short">> Queen Elora smiles at you and you have to raise your eyes slightly to meet her own. She is taller than you, but not by much.<</if>> "Sleeplessness is often a symptom of overthinking," she explains. "I too, find myself unable to sleep tonight." You gaze at her, finding her dark eyes distant as she scans the garden for something you are uncertain exists. "I come here to think and for peace," she explains. "Perhaps you should join me?" <<elseif $chp2_42c is 3>> "I do not want to discuss it," you say, frowning. Queen Elora smiles at you, the expression filled with understanding. She steps towards you and instantly, her guards step forward to stop her. Raising a hand, Queen Elora sends them back to their original positions.<<if $height is "tall">> The Queen has to look up when she speaks to you, her head barely reach your shoulder.<<elseif $height is "average">> The Queen stares directly into you eyes and you realise that you are both around the same height.<<elseif $height is "short">> Queen Elora smiles at you and you have to raise your eyes slightly to meet her own. She is taller than you, but not by much.<</if>> "Talking does not always make things better," she comments. "Sometimes, it is better to contemplate your thoughts in silence." You glance at her, finding that her dark eyes are on the gardens around you. "I come here to think and for peace," she explains. "Perhaps you should join me?" <</if>> <<set $chp2_42c_1 to 0>> [["I suppose I can," you murmur.|chp2_42c_2][$chp2_42c_1 +=1]] [["I do not know much about gardens," you explain.|chp2_42c_2][$chp2_42c_1 +=2]] [["I would like that," you answer with a smile.|chp2_42c_2][$chp2_42c_1 +=3]]

<<if $chp2_42c_1 is 1>> "I suppose I can," you murmur. Queen Elora lets out a laugh, a light sound that startles you. Your eyes search her face and you find that there is a genuine happiness in her gaze, a warmth that had not been there. "You need not sound like I am forcing you to join me, $name," she teases. "Besides, I think you will enjoy the splendour of the palace gardens." <<elseif $chp2_42c_1 is 2>> "I do not know much about gardens," you explain. Queen Elora lets out a laugh, a light sound that startles you. Your eyes search her face and you find that there is a genuine happiness in her gaze, a warmth that had not been there. "You do not need to know anything about gardens to enjoy them, $name," Queen Elora replies. "Besides, I think that you will enjoy the splendour of the palace gardens." <<elseif $chp2_42c_1 is 3>> "I would like that," you answer with a smile. Queen Elora lets out a laugh, a light sound that startles you. Your eyes search her face and you find that there is a genuine happiness in her gaze, a warmth that had not been there. "This is splendid," she answers, with a large smile. "I have not had anyone joining me in the gardens for quite some time. I do believe that you'll enjoy the splendour of the palace gardens." <</if>> You follow the young Queen as she leads you down the stone pathways of the garden. Her hair has been plaited and bound tightly into a circle on the top of her head. Still, stray strands which curl at the ends, brush against her neck. As the two of you walk under an ornate archway, which leads to a field of roses, you become aware of the guards behind you. They watch you with mistrust, heavy in their gazes. "Do not mind them," Queen Elora says, drawing your attention to her. "They will not harm you, $name." <<set $chp2_42c_2 to 0>> [["Are you quite certain?" you ask, apprehensive.|chp2_42c_3][$chp2_42c_2 +=1]] [["They are only trying to protect you," you say.|chp2_42c_3][$chp2_42c_2 +=2]] [["I would hope not," you mutter.|chp2_42c_3][$chp2_42c_2 +=3]]

<<if $chp2_42c_2 is 1>> "Are you quite certain?" you ask, apprehensive. Queen Elora nods at you, glancing back towards her guards. "They may seem like they are ready to cut down any who dare attack me, but I assure you that both Belit and Shala are quite docile." You think you hear one of the guards let out a flustered sound and you cannot help but match Queen Elora's knowing grin. <<elseif $chp2_42c_2 is 2>> "They are only trying to protect you," you say. Queen Elora smiles at you, nodding as she glances towards the guards. "They are only trying to protect me. Though I can assure you that both Belit and Shala are quite docile." You think you hear one of the guards let out a flustered sound and you cannot help but match Queen Elora's knowing grin. <<elseif $chp2_42c_2 is 3>> "I would hope not," you mutter. Queen Elora casts you a sidelong glance, her dark eyes peering into your own. "I understand that you must have gone through a lot to get here, though know that not all guards are like the Blood Guard you have faced." You swallow, still tense. Queen Elora must sense it because she offers you a kind smile. "Both Belit and Shala are quite docile," she explains. "They would never harm you." A choked sound escapes one of the guards and when you turn to look at them, you find them both wearing matching expressions of embarrassment. <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_42c_4]]

"Ah, here we are," Queen Elora announces. You follow her gaze and find a large bench sitting in the middle of rose bushes. She motions for you to sit down before she takes her place next to your side. The flowers behind you are all different hues. It seems like every flower has been tended to with great care. "I know everything about Iri, but I know nearly nothing about you," she says. "Let us remedy that, hm?" "What do you want to know?" you ask. She pauses, thinking for a moment, before asking, "What was your childhood like? Where is your family? Did you have to leave them behind?" Her words barrage you and you find your breath lodging in your throat. The question dredges up memories of your nightmare, and memories of everything that had happened when you fled Salt Bay. Queen Elora frowns, reaching out and gripping your wrist in her delicate fingers. "I am sorry," she breathes. "I did not mean to ask you so many questions. You do not need to answer them." <<set $chp2_42c_4 to 0>> [[♡"It is alright," you murmur, flushing deeply.|chp2_42c_5][$chp2_42c_4 +=1, $shy_elora +=5, $eloraRom +=5, $eloraRel +=5]] [[♡"It is alright," you answer as you run your thumb over her knuckles.|chp2_42c_5][$chp2_42c_4 +=2, $bold_elora +=5, $eloraRom +=5, $eloraRel +=5]] [["It is alright," you reply, smiling.|chp2_42c_5][$chp2_42c_4 +=3, $eloraRel +=5]] [["Do not ask such insensitive questions again," you huff, drawing your hand away.|chp2_42c_5][$chp2_42c_4 +=4]]

<<if $chp2_42c_4 is 1>> "It is alright," you murmur, flushing deeply. Queen Elora gazes at you, her eyes deep as they trace over your features. You wonder if she can hear your sharp intake of breath or the way her proximity causes your heart to race. She places the golden shears down and reaches out to trace her finger along your cheek. "Oh, your face is all warm," she murmurs. You shudder, trembling under her touch. She smells like the roses all around you and for a moment, it is hard to look at anything but her face. A smile tugs at her lips and she draws her hand away from your flushed face. "I did not mean to make you uncomfortable," she says. "You didn't," you blurt. "I-I mean, I'm not uncomfortable." Queen Elora grins wider. "Good. I would hate to be the cause of your troubles, $name." <<elseif $chp2_42c_4 is 2>> "It is alright," you answer as you run your thumb over her knuckles. Queen Elora's eyes shift towards where your hands touch, and for a moment, you think that she might pull away. Instead, she turns to look at you, her dark gaze tracing along your features before settling onto your mouth. You feel a shiver run down your spine, a tingling sensation that consumes you until you are left breathless as you stare at the young Queen. "Your palms are rough," she says after a moment. She drops the golden shears in her free hand before gathering both of yours in her grip. "I suppose riding for days would leave you with no time to tend to your own needs." You glance at Queen Elora, finding her eyes dancing with gaiety as she gazes up at you. Her tone had been light, filled with unspoken innuendo and you find yourself leaning closer to where she sits. "And would Your Highness be offering to help me with my needs?" you ask, lowering your voice. Queen Elora grins, delight spreading through her gaze. "We shall see, $name. Perhaps if we were to spend more time together, I could offer assistance." <<elseif $chp2_42c_4 is 3>> "It is alright," you reply, smiling. Queen Elora returns your smile, squeezing your wrist briefly before she draws her hand away. You sit together in silence, though the heaviness from earlier is gone. The cloying scent of roses fills your nose and you breathe in deeply. "I hope that I did not make you too uncomfortable with my questions," Queen Elora murmurs. "It's sometimes hard to remember that not everyone is accustomed to what my mother calls, //excitement//." "You did not make me uncomfortable," you reply. "It is just a complicated question." Gazing at you, Queen Elora smiles. "Still, I am sorry." "Thank you," you respond. <<elseif $chp2_42c_4 is 4>> "Do not ask such insensitive questions again," you huff, drawing your hand away. The guards tense and Queen Elora shakes her head at them, when they begin to approach the bench. She glances down to her hand, before tucking it beneath her cloak. A wistful sigh escapes Queen Elora's lips and when she speaks, her tone is sombre. "You are right," she breathes. "It was insensitive of me. You must have gone through a lot, before you and Iri arrived in Vinia." You frown, glancing away. The roses around you emit a sweet fragrance, one that causes your nose to itch. As if sensing your foul mood, Queen Elora turns to face you. Her full lips have pulled into a frown and her expression is pinched. "I am sorry for making you uncomfortable," she says. "Know that I do not wish you any harm, $name." <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_42c_6]]

Queen Elora gazes once more at the roses and picks up the golden shears that she had been carrying earlier. It gleams under the waning moon, its handles carved with intricate patterns. "My grandmother gave me this," she explains. "When I was still only six." She stands, making her way to a nearby rose bush. Kneeling, Queen Elora begins cutting away at the leaves. You watch her for a moment, an intense look of focus in her expression as she tends to the roses. "Do you know how old I was when I became queen?" she asks. You shake your head. Your knowledge of politics was limited to the few books you managed to read in Salt Bay, and even then, they had been outdated. "I was sixteen," Queen Elora answers, a bitterness in her voice. "My father, King Ishtar, had died and my mother had no will to take the throne. So it was left to me." <<set $chp2_42c_6 to 0>> [["I am sorry," you murmur.|chp2_42c_7][$chp2_42c_6 +=1]] [["Becoming queen doesn't seem like such a bad thing," you reply.|chp2_42c_7][$chp2_42c_6 +=2]] [["And?" you prompt.|chp2_42c_7][$chp2_42c_6 +=3]] [["At least you became queen," you mutter. "All I got was a nightmare and having to flee my home."|chp2_42c_7][$chp2_42c_6 +=4]]

<<if $chp2_42c_6 is 1>> "I am sorry," you murmur. Queen Elora snips at a stem, pausing. "I am sorry too, for it seems that fate is not as kind as it could be." <<elseif $chp2_42c_6 is 2>> "Becoming queen doesn't seem like such a bad thing," you reply. "Some would agree with you," she murmurs. Her fingers pause, drawing away before she can snip a stem. "Becoming a queen upon your father's death is a gift in itself." <<elseif $chp2_42c_6 is 3>> "And?" you prompt. "And perhaps I only needed a moment to speak, $name," Queen Elora replies. She snips at a stem, and you watch it fall to the ground. <<elseif $chp2_42c_6 is 4>> "At least you became queen," you mutter. "All I got was a nightmare and having to flee my home." Queen Elora tenses, casting you a sorrowful look. "I did not mean to compare our lives, only to vent about my own." <</if>> Queen Elora returns her attention onto the roses, before she begins cutting a few of the closed buds. You watch her work, methodically as if she is accustomed to working in the gardens, despite her role as the ruler of a kingdom. "My father had no other heirs," she states. "It was only me and even so, he was reluctant for the throne to pass to me. He said that I was too soft-hearted, too concerned about people that should not concern me." "You were?" you ask, surprised by her admission. "I was," she answers. "I still am." She begins to gather the rose buds together. "Before my father, my grandmother had sat on the throne. She was a warrior and fearless too. My father thought that my grandmother would be able to teach me to harden my heart." She stands, approaching you on the bench, before sitting beside you with a handful of clipped rose buds. "Instead of teaching me to become harder, my grandmother brought me here, and taught me that not all battles are won through bloodshed," she murmurs. "Sometimes, it takes only a moment of kindness to change the outcome." You think about Prince Irus and the way Queen Elora did not offer him her protection. It seems against the words her grandmother had instilled in her. <<set $chp2_42c_7 to 0>> [["Why do you not offer Prince Irus your protection?" you ask, confused.|chp2_42c_8][$chp2_42c_7 +=1]] [["You should be protecting Prince Irus then," you exclaim.|chp2_42c_8][$chp2_42c_7 +=2]] [["You're nothing but a hypocrite," you accuse. "All your talk of kindness and yet you won't offer Prince Irus protection."|chp2_42c_8][$chp2_42c_7 +=3]]

<<if $chp2_42c_7 is 1>> "Why do you not offer Prince Irus your protection?" you ask, confused. Queen Elora opens her mouth then closes it. Her mouth twists into a frown, before she glances at you. "I care for Iri deeply," she explains. "He is a close friend. He spent many years as a child in Vinia, during the summer months. But $name, Iri is no king. He is in exile and I am not truly certain that he has any experience to lead a nation, let alone take back a throne held by his uncle." "I don't understand," you reply. "Iri is inexperienced," Queen Elora explains. "Already my people think that I am too. If I protect Iri then it would only give them reason to seek a new ruler." <<elseif $chp2_42c_7 is 2>> "You should be protecting Prince Irus then," you exclaim. Queen Elora tenses, her eyebrows furrowing as she regards you in silence. A moment passes before she speaks and when she does, her tone is low. "Iri is a dear friend," she explains. "As a child, he would spend the summer months in Vinia, with me. But he is inexperienced, $name. He has not been taught how to be a ruler and protecting him when his uncle sits upon the throne would be detrimental not only to my people but to my own reign." <<elseif $chp2_42c_7 is 3>> "You're nothing but a hypocrite," you accuse. "All your talk of kindness and yet you won't offer Prince Irus protection." Queen Elora flinches, as if your words have physically struck her. She narrows her dark eyes as she turns to face you. "Do not mistake my ideals for kindness," she replies. "Iri is a dear friend to me, spending his childhood summers in Vinia, but he is no king. He is an inexperienced prince and I do not doubt that his uncle's claim holds more value to those in Cyre." She pauses, her frown deepening. "I will not risk my reign or my people to protect Iri, regardless of how I may feel about him," she hisses. <</if>><<set $chp2_42c_8 to 0>> [["You're wrong," you spit. "Prince Irus would make an excellent king."|chp2_42c_9][$chp2_42c_8 +=1]] [["Even if you are right, you cannot deny him the chance to prove himself," you retort.|chp2_42c_9][$chp2_42c_8 +=2]] [["Prince Irus would be better than a man who caused the bloodshed of Ishari people," you mutter.|chp2_42c_9][$chp2_42c_8 +=3]] [["Perhaps you are right," you sigh. "He is an exiled prince, how can he hope to win his people's favour?"|chp2_42c_9][$chp2_42c_8 +=4]] [["Whether you are right or not, Prince Irus is your friend. You owe him your support, if only for the bond you share," you reply.|chp2_42c_9][$chp2_42c_8 +=5]]

<<if $chp2_42c_8 is 1>> "You're wrong," you spit. "Prince Irus would make an excellent king." Queen Elora looks at you, surprise filling her gaze. She searches your face, perhaps looking for any sign of dishonesty and when she finds none, her eyes return to your own. "You truly believe that," she breathes. "Even after everything that his father has done to your people?" "He is not King Erlan," you retort. "Nor is he as bloodthirsty as Virion." "Perhaps," Queen Elora replies. "You have given me a lot to think about, $name." <<elseif $chp2_42c_8 is 2>> "Even if you are right, you cannot deny him the chance to prove himself," you retort. Queen Elora looks away, her expression twisted into something that resembles remorse. She lets out a deep breath, before her dark eyes find yours. "My grandmother said something similar to my father once," she murmurs. "It didn't change my father's mind about me." "Then do better than your father," you breathe. "Give Prince Irus a chance." "I will think about it," she answers. <<elseif $chp2_42c_8 is 3>> "Prince Irus would be better than a man who caused the bloodshed of Ishari people," you mutter. Queen Elora raises her eyebrows, taken aback by the vehemence in your tone. She scans your face, searching for something in your expression. Whatever it is that she's looking for, it seems that she found it. "I am sorry," she breathes. "The war against Ishari was never mine to fight, though the loss was felt greatly by my people." "Then support the better ruler," you reply. Queen Elora glances away, her eyes drifting to the rose buds gathered in her lap. "You have given me a lot to think about. I will take your words into consideration." <<elseif $chp2_42c_8 is 4>> "Perhaps you are right," you sigh. "He is an exiled prince, how can he hope to win his people's favour?" "You see my worry then," Queen Elora murmurs. She looks stricken, eyes downcast. "Iri is an unknown face in Cyre. He was never the favoured successor, not even by his own father." You glance at the young Queen, your gaze finding hers in the darkness. "Much like you," you comment. She smiles, but there is a bitterness in her tone. "Yes, like me." <<elseif $chp2_42c_8 is 5>> "Whether you are right or not, Prince Irus is your friend. You owe him your support, if only for the bond you share," you reply. Queen Elora lets out a sound of derision. For a moment, you think that she might turn around and mock you. "Friendship does not protect a kingdom, $name," she scoffs. "My people rely on me to keep them safe. Can I truly afford their safety, all for a war that isn't my own?" You frown, your eyes narrowing. "Prince Irus said that we would get help in Vinia. Was he wrong to trust you?" Queen Elora flinches, as if struck by your words. "I would never betray Iri. Already my people doubt my reign, how could I possibly risk that to support Iri's claim when Virion is the favoured successor?" "Do you trust Prince Irus?" you ask. She sighs, "Trust has nothing to do with this." "Trust has everything to do with this," you reply. "Tell me, would you rather trust Virion than Prince Irus?" "I... you have given me much to think about, $name," Queen Elora answers. <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_42c_10]]

One of the guards, Belit or Shala, clears her throat and Queen Elora glances at them. She smiles, the tense conversation about Prince Irus and his possible claim to Cyre, hidden from her expression. "The hour grows late, $name," Queen Elora states. "Come, my guards will escort us back into the palace." You are silent as you walk beside Queen Elora, your thoughts on everything that you have discussed. Prince Irus, it seems, has a lot to prove to the young Queen if he ever wishes to seek her support. Eventually, you come to the hallway where your chamber is located. Queen Elora follows you to your door, her guards a few metres behind her, giving you a semblance of privacy. <<if $eloraRom gte 2>> "I am sorry for the poor topic of conversation, $name," Queen Elora breathes. "I would have preferred to learn more about you." She grabs your hand, dropping the rose buds into your palm. You frown, glancing at the flowers in confusion. "Place them under your pillow," she explains. "It is an old superstition, but even still, they smell lovely enough to bring you good dreams." Her hand lingers in yours, the warmth of her skin seeping into your palm. "Sleep well, $name," she murmurs. She turns away, offering you a fleeting smile before she walks down the hallway with her guards in tow. <<elseif $eloraRel gte 50 and $eloraRom is 0>> "I am sorry that our conversation was not the best," Queen Elora explains. She extends her hand, filled with the rose buds. "Give me your palm." You frown, showing her your palm. Queen Elora drops the rose buds, the soft petals, smooth against your skin. She smiles at your confused look and takes a step back. "Place them under your pillow when you sleep," she explains. "It is said to bring you good dreams." "Thank you," you murmur. She waves, before turning and joining her guards as she walks away from you. <<else>> "Here we are," she says, gesturing to your chamber. You nod as you step towards your door. Before you can enter your room, Queen Elora calls out to you. "Before you go," she says, "take some of these." You frown, glancing at the rose buds she had cut from the garden earlier. She notices your look of confusion. "Put them under your pillow when you sleep," she explains. "They're supposed to bring you good dreams." You nod, taking the rose buds and watch as Queen Elora departs, her two guards in tow. <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_42c_11]]

As you enter your room, you stare at the rose buds in your palms. Maybe they do ward off bad dreams, and even if they do not, the scent does relax you. Moving towards your bed, you drop the rose buds under your pillow before sliding under the covers. You can only hope that they will ward away any nightmares that might plague you. [[Next.|chp2_44]]

You hastily wash your face, as you dress in the clothes laid out for you, shaking away the thoughts from last night. As you fasten the last button of your tunic, the door opens and you find Prince Irus peering in. <<if $irus_chp2_kiss is true>> His eyes find yours and you're reminded again of your kiss last night. He must be thinking about it too, because his gaze drops to your mouth, before he drags his eyes up to meet yours again. "You're dressed," he says. "Good. Ellie has something to discuss with us. She's invited us to breakfast." <<elseif $shymoment is true>> His eyes find yours and you're reminded of the gentle touch of his fingers against your skin. Warmth spreads through you and your cheeks flush under his gaze. Prince Irus must be thinking about it too, for his eyes shift towards your mouth before they return to meet yours. "You're dressed," he murmurs. "Good. Ellie has something to discuss with us. She's invited us to breakfast." <<else>> "You're awake and dressed," Prince Irus comments with a smile. "Good. Ellie says she has something to discuss with us. She's invited us to breakfast." <</if>><<set $chp2_46 to 0>> [["What do you think it will be about?" you ask.|chp2_46][$chp2_46 +=1]] [["I'm just looking forward to breakfast," you announce.|chp2_46][$chp2_46 +=2]] [["I hope it's good news," you mumble.|chp2_46][$chp2_46 +=3]]

<<if $chp2_46 is 1>> "What do you think it will be about?" you ask. Prince Irus looks thoughtful for a moment. "Maybe about an offer of protection?" <<if $night_one is 3>> You think back to your conversation with Queen Elora last night. She had expressed her lack of confidence in Prince Irus to you and you wonder if she has changed her views since then.<<else>>Queen Elora did not inspire much confidence in offering any form of protection to Prince Irus when you arrived in Vinia last night, so you are uncertain if her views have changed since then.<</if>> "Maybe," you reply. <<elseif $chp2_46 is 2>> "I'm just looking forward to breakfast," you announce. Prince Irus chuckles, casting you a sideways glance. "I see that one night in the palace and you're already thinking like a royal." You shrug. "If I'm going to be in the palace, I might as well enjoy the luxuries it affords me." "You're right," Prince Irus agrees. "After all, we might not be in the palace for much longer." You grow quiet at that, remembering Queen Elora's lack of support towards Prince Irus. <<elseif $chp2_46 is 3>> "I hope it's good news," you mumble. "Me too, $name," Prince Irus sighs. He runs a hand through his hair. "Otherwise we might need to leave Vinia too." You frown, remembering the hard journey the both of you had to endure to get to Vinia. Your shoulders sag at the thought of having to travel farther and a tired breath escapes you. <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_47]]

There is an ease in the way Prince Irus walks through the passages, a confidence that had been lacking when you both had to flee Salt Bay. As you gaze up at him, you realise that he must have led a very different life to you as a child. He must notice your gaze, because Prince Irus frowns and glances down at you. "What is it?" <<set $chp2_47 to 0>> [["It's just that you seem comfortable here in the palace," you explain.|chp2_48][$chp2_47 +=1]] [["You're clearly enjoy being in a palace," you mutter.|chp2_48][$chp2_47 +=2]] [["You seem at ease," you state.|chp2_48][$chp2_47 +=3]] [["It's nothing," you answer, looking away.|chp2_48][$chp2_47 +=4]]

<<if $chp2_47 is 1>> "It's just that you seem comfortable here in the palace," you explain. Prince Irus shrugs, a shadow of a smile on his lips. "Let's just say that I am quite happy to be in a place where I do not have to sleep on the ground." You refrain from mentioning that Queen Elora might not offer him a permanent home in the palace and that you both will probably need to flee once more. <<elseif $chp2_47 is 2>> "You're clearly enjoy being in a palace," you mutter. Prince Irus casts you a long look, noting the irritation in your tone. "You're enjoying it too. You're just too grumpy to realise it." You scoff, rolling your eyes in response, tempted to bring up the fact that Queen Elora might not even let the both of you remain in the palace after today. You do not doubt that you will both be on the road, sooner rather than later. <<elseif $chp2_47 is 3>> "You seem at ease," you state. Prince Irus grins widely, spreading his arms out as he walks. "I had a good night's sleep on a proper bed and I don't reek of Crown." You huff out a breath, smiling in response. Prince Irus catches your gaze and a flicker of amusement flashes through his eyes. Despite the jovial mood, you cannot help but worry that Queen Elora might not offer Prince Irus her protection, forcing you both to flee once more. <<elseif $chp2_47 is 4>> "It's nothing," you answer, looking away. You feel Prince Irus' gaze on the side of your face, though you do not look up to meet his eyes. He draws closer to you, the wide sleeves of his shirt, billowing as he places his palm on your shoulder. "Relax," he breathes. "Even if we must leave after this, at least we will have full stomachs." You want to bring up that Queen Elora might send you both away after today and that soon you will be both on the road once again. But instead, you keep your thoughts to yourself. <</if>> Eventually, you both arrive in a wide, open patio. Greenery and bright flowers line the outer edges of the patio and a deep pool runs down the centre. The air is warm but pleasant, not overly humid. Sunlight filters through leaves and dapples the ground in warm hues. An ornate table sits at one end of the pool, surrounded by white chairs. Seated already is Queen Elora.<<if $night_one is 3>> Her hair is open today and she wears a heavy gown, burgundy and dark against her golden skin, far more different than the woman you saw last night.<<else>> Her hair is open today and she wears a heavy gown, burgundy and dark against her golden skin.<</if>> She stands when she sees Prince Irus approaching, her gaze slipping past his shoulder to find yours. "Come, sit," Queen Elora calls. "I am certain that you are both famished." [[Next.|chp2_49]]

You take a seat on one of the chairs, though your attention focusses on the table, laden with an assortment of different foods. The scents of spices and sweet jams, fill your nose and for a moment, all you can think about is the sudden twist in your gut. Prince Irus wastes no time in taking a large bite of peach, its juice dribbling down his chin. At Queen Elora's nod, you begin to eat too. There are soft cheeses and honeyed figs, spiced breads and lentils ground into a spiced paste. You eat, marvelling at the quantity of food on display, large enough to support a small family for months. It is hard not to compare it with your own meagre upbringing, your food always consisting of hard vegetables and salty stews. The thought of your childhood dulls your hunger and you find yourself sipping from a glass of pulpy juice. "We need to discuss your position here in Vinia," Queen Elora speaks, as silence overtakes the table. "After last night, I have given much thought to your plight, Iri and I have decided that I will offer you protection, to you as well, $name." Prince Irus' lips pull into a wide grin and you... <<set $chp2_49 to 0>> [[...find yourself mirroring his grin, ecstatic about the outcome.|chp2_50][$chp2_49 +=1]] [[...laugh and whoop in joy.|chp2_50][$chp2_49 +=2]] [[...let out a breath of relief.|chp2_50][$chp2_49 +=3]] [[...huff out a breath, annoyed that it took so long for the Queen to offer you protection.|chp2_50][$chp2_49 +=4]] [[...grip the armrest of your seat tightly, conflicted about how to feel.|chp2_50][$chp2_49 +=5]]

<<if $chp2_49 is 1>> Your lips pull into a large smile, your cheeks hurting though you cannot stop yourself from the happiness that surges through you. No longer will you have to run and flee from the Blood Guard. Now the both of you will be safe, free from the burden of having to worry about finding somewhere safe to stay. <<elseif $chp2_49 is 2>> Your voice cuts through the air, and you let out a whoop of joy. Prince Irus catches your gaze and you share a relieved laugh. After everything that you both had to endure, learning that you will no longer need to flee eases the weight that had been dragging at your shoulders. You will no longer have to worry about the Blood Guard finally catching up to you. <<elseif $chp2_49 is 3>> You exhale, a sharp breath spilling from your lips as relief courses through you. There will be no need to flee anymore, no need to find a safer place to stay. With Queen Elora's offer of protection, you do not have to fear that the Blood Guard will catch up to you. The burden that weighed you down so heavily, now lifts until you are weightless with relief. <<elseif $chp2_49 is 4>> You scoff, annoyed by Queen Elora's slow response of protection. While it is true that she is helping you and Prince Irus, it took her far longer than it should have. After everything that you both had to endure, it seems cruel in hindsight to wait so long to ease your burden of worry. <<elseif $chp2_49 is 5>> Your fingers tighten around the armrests of your seat. An overwhelming surge of emotions course through you, relief, happiness and worry. It is hard to feel any one way and though Prince Irus smiles at you, you find yourself feeling conflicted. It is true that now you will be truly safe, no longer having to flee from the Blood Guard, yet, there is a niggling sense of worry that tugs at your happiness. <</if>> Queen Elora does not smile, her eyebrows furrowing. "My offer is conditional." Prince Irus stiffens beside you, his eyes suddenly narrowing at Queen Elora. It is a look that you have not seen him cast the young Queen since your arrival and by the way Queen Elora purses her lips, you realise that she must not be accustomed to being stared down so directly. "What do you mean?" Prince Irus demands. Smoothing down her skirts, Queen Elora replies, "It means that I cannot make this decision without the approval of my councillors, without isolating myself from their support. Iri, a lot has changed since you've visited Vinia. People do not blindly support my rule as they did my father's." "So what does this mean?" you interrupt, drawing both sets of eyes onto you. "Osk is a time for celebration," Queen Elora replies. Her gaze returns to Prince Irus. "For my birth month and for the spring harvests. The leaders of each city will be attending a banquet at the palace in a fortnight. I cannot solely convince them to support me, but if they see you Iri-" "Then I can convince them to support me by myself," he concludes. [[Next.|chp2_51]]

"This is your chance to convince the councillors to support you," Queen Elora emphasises. "It is your chance to prove to them that you are a good leader, better than your uncle." "How can I do that?" Prince Irus asks, frowning. Queen Elora gestures to someone behind you, and you turn to find Sir Oren approaching where you all sit. He bows to Queen Elora before offering Prince Irus and you a respectful nod. "I've arranged for you and $name to be escorted through Aspal today," Queen Elora explains. "Sir Oren will accompany you. Use today to learn about the kingdom, about my people and it will help you understand my councillors better." Prince Irus nods, a determined glint in his blue eyes. "Very well. I will not squander this opportunity, Ellie." He stands and you realise that breakfast is now over. Sir Oren stands to the side, waiting as Prince Irus strides towards him, and you quickly follow after him. [[Next.|chp2_52]]

As you follow after Sir Oren and Prince Irus, you cast a fleeting glance to where Queen Elora still remains. It seems that your only companions for the day will be the calm Captain and the frowning Prince. Sir Oren leads you both through the wide doors that you entered through last night, taking you outside the palace foyer and towards the main gate. This time, there are no horses prepared and no sign of Prince Irus' steed, Crown. <<set $chp2_52 to 0>> [["We're not riding into the city?" you question.|chp2_53][$chp2_52 +=1]] [["Is Crown alright?" you ask, concerned.|chp2_53][$chp2_52 +=2]] [["How long will we spend in the city?" you ask, curious.|chp2_53][$chp2_52 +=3]]

<<if $chp2_52 is 1>> "We're not riding into the city?" you question. Sir Oren shakes his head. "Riding would defeat your purpose in the city today. The both of you, especially His Highness-" <<if $irus_ride is false>> "Just call me Irus," Prince Irus says, cutting off Sir Oren. He glances at you. "You too, $name. Being referred by my status becomes a mouthful at times." Sir Oren blusters. "It would be improper, Your Highness." Prince Irus sighs, "Fine, you'll call me by my name, right $name?" You manage a nod and Prince Irus flashes you a grin. He glances at Sir Oren, rolling his eyes in amusement. "I think what Sir Oren was trying to say is that we should be mingling with the city's population if we're to stand any chance at winning over Ellie's councillors," Prince Irus explains. <<elseif $irus_ride is true>> "Just call me Irus," Prince Irus says, cutting off Sir Oren. Sir Oren blusters. "It would be improper, Your Highness." You watch in mild amusement as both Sir Oren and Prince Irus bicker about what exactly could be considered improper, with the latter becoming more lurid in his examples. "Stop going on about propriety," Prince Irus groans. "$name already calls me by my name so what difference does it make if you stop addressing me as //Your Higness//?" "It simply is not done," Sir Oren explains. "Fine," Prince Irus grumbles. "I give up." He glances at you. "I think what Sir Oren was trying to say is that we should be mingling with the city's population if we're to stand any chance at winning over Ellie's councillors."<</if>> <<elseif $chp2_52 is 2>> "Is Crown alright?" you ask, concerned. Prince Irus glances at you, a faint smile on his face. "Crown is perfectly alright, $name. I checked on him earlier this morning. All he gets to do is eat as much as he wants and be brushed down twice a day." "That is your steed, Your Highness?" Sir Oren asks. <<if $irus_ride is false>> "Yes, it is," Prince Irus replies. "And please, call me Irus. You as well, $name. Hearing you all refer to me by my status becomes quite a mouthful." Sir Oren blusters. "It would be improper, Your Highness." Prince Irus sighs, "Fine, you'll call me by my name, right $name?" You manage a nod and Prince Irus flashes you a grin. He glances at Sir Oren, rolling his eyes in amusement, the jovial mood not dissipating as you walk after Sir Oren. <<elseif $irus_ride is true>> "Yes, it is," Prince Irus replies. "And please, call me Irus. Hearing you all refer to me by my status becomes quite a mouthful." Sir Oren blusters. "It would be improper, Your Highness." You watch in mild amusement as both Sir Oren and Prince Irus bicker about what exactly could be considered improper, with the latter becoming more lurid in his examples. "Stop going on about propriety," Prince Irus groans. "$name already calls me by my name so what difference does it make if you stop addressing me as //Your Higness//?" "It simply is not done," Sir Oren explains. "Fine," Prince Irus grumbles. "I give up."<</if>> <<elseif $chp2_52 is 3>> "How long will we spend in the city?" you ask, curious. Sir Oren offers you a smile. "It depends on how long you and His Highness wish to remain in the city." <<if $irus_ride is false>> "Please, no need for pomp and titles," Prince Irus explains. "Just call me Irus. You too, $name." Sir Oren blusters. "It would be improper, Your Highness." Prince Irus sighs, "Fine, you'll call me by my name, right $name?" You manage a nod and Prince Irus flashes you a grin. He glances at Sir Oren, rolling his eyes in amusement, the jovial mood not dissipating as you walk after Sir Oren. <<elseif $irus_ride is true>> "Please, no need for pomp and titles," Prince Irus explains. "Just call me Irus." Sir Oren blusters. "It would be improper, Your Highness." You watch in mild amusement as both Sir Oren and Prince Irus bicker about what exactly could be considered improper, with the latter becoming more lurid in his examples. "Stop going on about propriety," Prince Irus groans. "$name already calls me by my name so what difference does it make if you stop addressing me as //Your Higness//?" "It simply is not done," Sir Oren explains. "Fine," Prince Irus grumbles. "I give up."<</if>> <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_54]]

Together, you set off with Sir Oren and Prince Irus. There are at least two other guards that accompany you as you exit the palace, walking a distance behind you and Prince Irus. It is mid-morning and the sun is bright, the spring air warm with humidity. You feel sweat gather at your brows, and wipe at it with the back of your hand. As you walk, you learn a few things. This is not just a tour. You notice the nearly impenetrable walls that surround the kingdom. The guards on duty are well-trained and move efficiently. It appears that despite the Kingdom of Vinia being a neutral territory, Queen Elora has not eased on her defences. "Where would you like to go first?" Sir Oren asks. "There are the food stalls, where many sell dishes from different regions. We could also visit the various temples, if you wish to pray." Sir Oren gestures beyond the main streets of the city. "We can also visit the harbour, if you wish." Prince Irus shrugs, casting you a glance. "I have visited Vinia many times before this, so it is up to you, $name." <<set $day2visit to 0>><<set $day2count to 0>> [["Let's visit the food stalls," you decide.|chp2_55a][$day2visit +=1, $day2count +=1]] [["The temples sound interesting," you answer.|chp2_55c][$day2visit +=2, $day2count +=1]] [["I think I'd like to see the harbour," you reply.|chp2_55b][$day2visit +=3, $day2count +=1]]

"Let's visit the food stalls," you decide. You have just eaten breakfast, though all those days on the road with nothing but meagre rations and canteens of water has left you craving the meals that Vinia has to provide. "Ah, a $gender after my own heart," Prince Irus laughs. "Off we go to the food stalls then, Captain." Sir Oren nods and together, you begin your trek through Aspal. This early in the day, you are greeted by even larger crowds than when you first arrived. People stop to stare at your group, curious expressions in their gazes. You do not walk for long, eventually coming to a circular walkway. Clusters of tents, their materials rich and vibrant where others are folded and subdued, fill the path ahead of you. Aromatic scents, spicy, savoury and some sweet find you where you stand. "I know a good place to visit," Sir Oren explains, leading you towards one of the stalls. [[Next.|chp2_55a_1]]

"The temples sound interesting," you answer. Sir Oren smiles in response, leading both you and Prince Irus out of the palace gates. The sun is warm on your face and already, the spring humidity bathes the city of Aspal. You walk through the city, noticing that the crowds have become much larger than they had been when you and Prince Irus first arrived. People glance at your group with curious stares, most of them directed at Sir Oren. Perhaps it is not a usual sight to see the Captain of the Royal Vinian Guard escorting two strangers. Eventually, Sir Oren leads you away from the crowds, leading you towards a wide building, carved and shaped from a dark stone. "This is the Grand Temple of the Twelve," Sir Oren explains. "I thought that we could start off with the Vinian deities, since His Highness still needs to learn more about our people." Prince Irus scoffs, "I know plenty of the gods, Captain. And trust me, I am still uninterested in their lives." "Whether you worship them or not, you will still need to learn about them if you are to convince our people to support you," Sir Oren explains. "Come, I will escort you inside." [[Next.|chp2_55c_1]]

<<set $location to "The Markets, Aspal.">>You find your legs carrying you towards a large tent, the sides rolled on the sides and held up by ropes. You push open one side of it and enter. Inside, there’s many people, some of them standing at the back talking softly amongst themselves while others sit around low, wooden tables. An elderly man, missing his fronth teeth glances at you and then, the rest of your group as you enter. His eyes widen in recognition, when they fall onto Sir Oren. "Oren, my boy," he greets. He moves from behind a narrow counter, where you spot a deep pan, sizzling with syrupy twirls. "It's been too long. How are is your Baba and Adda?" Sir Oren smiles in response. "They are well, thank you for asking, Naren." The man turns his attention onto you and Prince Irus, his dark eyes squinting. "And who are these fine young people? Are you bringing me customers now, Oren?" "These are guests of the palace," Sir Oren explains. "We're actually here to buy some of your desserts." "Ah, say no more," the man laughs. "Come, sit. I will bring you my best sweetmeats." He ushers you and Prince Irus to a nearby table, making sure that you are seated before he hurries off to behind the counter. Sir Oren remains standing, his eyes scanning the tent briefly while his other two guards remain outside. <<set $foodmarket_orensit to 0>> [["You should join us Sir Oren," you say, feeling a little bad that he's standing.|chp2_55a_1a][$foodmarket_orensit +=1, $orenRel +=1]] [["Will you join us?" you ask, warming at the thought of Sir Oren sitting with you.|chp2_55a_1a][$foodmarket_orensit +=2, $orenRel +=1]] [["Join us," you insist, yearning to spend more time with the Captain.|chp2_55a_1a][$foodmarket_orensit +=3]] [[You remain quiet, unbothered that Sir Oren is not joining you.|chp2_55a_1a][$foodmarket_orensit +=4]] [[You do not invite Sir Oren to join you, because you would rather spend time with Prince Irus.|chp2_55a_1a][$foodmarket_orensit +=5, $irusRel +=1]]

<<if $foodmarket_orensit is 1>> "You should join us Sir Oren," you say, feeling a little bad that he's standing. Sir Oren glances at you, his eyes crinkling as he smiles. "Thank you $name, but I am afraid that I am on duty today. I cannot abandon my post to guard both you and His Highness." Prince Irus snorts, a gleam of amusement in his eyes. "Be honest, Captain. You just don't know how to relax." Eyes narrowing, Sir Oren's face turns slightly red as he stares at Prince Irus, perhaps considering whether or not it would be worth picking a fight with an exiled prince. A moment passes, and Sir Oren lets out a deep breath. "No," he replies. "I cannot relax when ensuring your safety is my utmost priority." Prince Irus looks towards you and mouths the word 'boring'. <<elseif $foodmarket_orensit is 2>> "Will you join us?" you ask, warming at the thought of Sir Oren sitting with you. <<if $irusRom gt 5>> Prince Irus raises an eyebrow, his eyes finding yours as your face flushes. There is a strange look in his gaze, as if trying to understand the meaning of your tone and expression when you speak to Sir Oren. Whatever he determines, causes his lips to twist into a frown. Sir Oren gazes at you, a faint blush against his cheeks. For a moment, you can only stare into his hazel eyes, feeling your heart thud in anticipation. Sir Oren is the first to break his stare with you, shaking his head. "I am afraid that I cannot," he says. "My duty is to ensure that both you and His Highness are safe." "Well there you go," Prince Irus explains, shrugging. "You cannot force the Captain to join us, $name. He's clearly on duty." Your eyebrows furrow at the smug look on Prince Irus' face and you vaguely wonder if this is because of the closeness that you have developed with him. <<elseif $irusRom lte 0>>Prince Irus glances at you, taking in your heated cheeks and soft voice. A flicker of a smile, twists at his lips as he looks between you and Sir Oren. Sir Oren gazes at you, a faint blush against his cheeks. For a moment, you can only stare into his hazel eyes, feeling your heart thud in anticipation. Sir Oren is the first to break his stare with you, shaking his head. "I am afraid that I cannot," he says. "My duty is to ensure that both you and His Highness are safe." Prince Irus nudges your foot under the table and you frown in confusion at him. Ignoring your stare, Prince Irus glances up at Sir Oren with a wide grin. "I am certain that you would protect us better if you just sat down," he says. "Preferrably next to $name, $MChe is useless in a fight." "I am not," you hiss. Sir Oren glances at you, a warm expression on his face. "Do not worry, $name. I assure you that I will be able to guard you by standing here."<</if>> <<elseif $foodmarket_orensit is 3>> "Join us," you insist, yearning to spend more time with the Captain. <<if $irusRom gte 5>> Prince Irus raises an eyebrow, his eyes finding yours at your eager tone. There is a hard look in his gaze, as if trying to understand the meaning behind your words when you speak to Sir Oren. Whatever he determines, it causes his lips to twist into a frown. Sir Oren gazes at you, a faint blush against his cheeks. For a moment, you can only stare into his hazel eyes, feeling your smile widen at the sight. Sir Oren is the first to break his stare with you, shaking his head. "I am afraid that I cannot," he says. "My duty is to ensure that both you and His Highness are safe." "Well there you go," Prince Irus explains, shrugging. "You cannot force the Captain to join us, $name. He's clearly on duty." There is a hard look in the way Prince Irus gazes between Sir Oren and you. Perhaps the closeness that you've developed with him has caused his jealousy to rear its ugly head. <<else>> Prince Irus glances at you, taking in your eager smile and soft voice. A flicker of a smile, twists at his lips as he looks between you and Sir Oren. Sir Oren gazes at you, a faint blush against his cheeks. For a moment, you can only stare into his hazel eyes, feeling heat surge through you in anticipation of the Captain joining you. "I am afraid that I cannot," he says. "My duty is to ensure that both you and His Highness are safe." Prince Irus nudges your foot under the table and you shoot him a pointed look. Ignoring your stare, Prince Irus glances up at Sir Oren with a wide grin. "I am certain that you would protect us better if you just sat down," he says. "Preferrably next to $name, $MChe is useless in a fight." "Oh yes," you agree. "I'd feel much better if you were to sit next to me." Sir Oren glances at you, a warm expression on his face. "Do not worry, $name. I assure you that I will be able to guard you by standing here."<</if>> <<elseif $foodmarket_orensit is 4>> You remain quiet, unbothered that Sir Oren is not joining you. As you settle into your seat, a hard stool that has seen better days, you let your eyes travel across the tent. Most of the patrons of the stall consist of those who wear durable clothes, probably labourers who have stopped at the stall for an early treat before heading to work. A few of the more curious look towards where you and Prince Irus sit, but it seems that it is the sight of the Royal Guards that draw their attention. It is slightly jarring to see this many faces, different from each other in shape and form. Unlike in Salt Bay, you notice tose dressed in the traditional robes of the Ishari people, while others don a mixture of materials, with Vinian embroidery and Cyre colours. Vinia, it appears, is nothing at all like your old home. <<elseif $foodmarket_orensit is 5>> You do not invite Sir Oren to join you, because you would rather spend time with Prince Irus. Gazing towards Prince Irus, you take in his expression, the easiness in which he sits on his low chair. You would have expected Prince Irus to have been more comfortable in the palace, though you suppose the scents of powedered sugar and sweetmeats has put him in a good mood. Prince Irus glances at you, his blue eyes twinkling. "You chose a good place." You nod, letting your eyes roam over the rest of the tent. There are a number of people inside, causally glancing towards where you sit in curiosity. It seems as if the presence of Sir Oren, accompanied by the rest of his guards is not a common sight. Perhaps what is most jarring for you is the sight of various different people in the tent, seated together without any hostility. Some wear traditional colours, golds and reds of the Ishari while others wear a combination of the colours of Cyre and Vinia as they sit together. It is a strange sight, though it is a reminder that Vinia is nothing at all like your home. <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_55a_1b]]

The elderly man, the owner of the stall, returns to your table carrying a heavy tray. Atop it lies square confectionaries, dusted in white sugar and topped with sliced nuts and berries. Next to the tray is a teapot, along with two porcelain mugs. "Enjoy," Naren says, beaming widely. You watch as Sir Oren passes the elderly man a few coins from a heavy pouch. It is clear that neither you nor Prince Irus have any valuables, except for a a few scraps so the money must come from Sir Oren himself or from Queen Elora. <<set $chp2_money to 0>> [[You are grateful for their help, though you would rather pay for yourself.|chp2_55a_1c][$chp2_money +=1]] [[You are grateful for their help, knowing that you are unable to afford such luxuries on your own.|chp2_55a_1c][$chp2_money +=2]] [[You hate being indebted to both Sir Oren and Queen Elora, feeling guilty for using their money.|chp2_55a_1c][$chp2_money +=3]] [[You don't care that they are paying for you, as you are their guest.|chp2_55a_1c][$chp2_money +=4]] [[You are happy that they are paying for your stay in Vinia, after all, it's about time that you're treated to some luxury.|chp2_55a_1c][$chp2_money +=5]]

<<if $chp2_money is 1>> You are grateful for their help, though you would rather pay for yourself. Throughout your childhood, it has always just been you and Ahlf. The money that Ahlf made came from selling whatever he managed to catch at the markets in Salt Bay. There was never enough money, and whatever was earned was used up in buying supplies for the both of you to survive. It feels wrong now that you are accepting the help of Sir Oren and Queen Elora, even though you know that you cannot afford to spend much on luxuries like sweetmeats. Perhaps in time, you will be able to pay for yourself in a city like Aspal. <<elseif $chp2_money is 2>> You are grateful for their help, knowing that you are unable to afford such luxuries on your own. Your life with Ahlf in Salt Bay was not an easy one. Most of your money came from seeling whatever Ahlf managed to sell in the markets and the money never lasted long when there were supplies to stock up on. Still, having Sir Oren and Queen Elora taking care of the necessities like paying for your visit to the city, is something that you are grateful for. You did not expect such generosity from either of them, though having it has been a relief. <<elseif $chp2_money is 3>> You hate being indebted to both Sir Oren and Queen Elora, feeling guilty for using their money. All your life, it has just been you and Ahlf, selling whatever fish he managed to get during his trips to sea. The money you made was meagre and you could only afford to stock your supplies before it would run out. There is a twinge of remorse at the knowledge that both Sir Oren and Queen Elora are taking care of you and Prince Irus. It is even harder to swallow down the fact that without their help, you would most likely be struggling on the streets without much to help you. You can only hope that you will have enough of your own wealth to repay them for their generosity. <<elseif $chp2_money is 4>> You don't care that they are paying for you, as you are their guest. After all, Queen Elora allowed you to remain in her palace and with the amount of wealth she seems to possess, it doesn't seem like paying for you or Prince Irus will cost her much. Your life in Salt Bay was a hard one, though now that you are in Vinia, it doesn't have to be anymore. <<elseif $chp2_money is 5>> You are happy that they are paying for your stay in Vinia, after all, it's about time that you're treated to some luxury. All your life, you've had to endure hardships, living on whatever meagre coins your father would earn from selling his fish at the markets. Now, you are in Vinia and if Queen Elora are willing to treat you to such luxuries, you will not deny them the opportunity. <</if>> Your thoughts are interrupted when Prince Irus reaches towards the tray, grabbing one of the powdered sweetmeats. He pops it whole into his mouth, eyes lighting up as he chews. "This is the best thing I've had since we arrived in Vinia," Prince Irus mumbles, his mouth full. "Try one, $name." You pick out one of the sweetmeats, soft in your hand. The sugared powder stains your fingers as you slip it into your mouth. Instantly, a burst of sweetness fills your mouth. The sweetmeat is soft and the nuts and berries on the top give it a savoury note that leaves you hungry for more. "You have a little sugar on your mouth," Prince Irus says, gesturing to your lips. "Here, let me." <<set $sugar_mouth to 0>> [[♡You grow warm, as Prince Irus wipes away the sugar from the corner of your lips.|chp2_55a_1d][$sugar_mouth +=1, $irusRom +=2, $flirt_shy +=1]] [[♡You lean in in anticipation as Prince Irus wipes away the sugar from the corner of your lips.|chp2_55a_1d][$sugar_mouth +=2, $irusRom +=2, $flirt_bold +=1]] [["It's fine," you answer, wiping it away yourself.|chp2_55a_1d][$sugar_mouth +=3]] [["I can do it myself," you scoff, rubbing at your lips.|chp2_55a_1d][$sugar_mouth +=4]] [["It's alright," you reply, glancing at Sir Oren instead.|chp2_55a_1d][$sugar_mouth +=5, $orenRel +=2]]

<<if $sugar_mouth is 1>> You grow warm, as Prince Irus wipes away the sugar from the corner of your lips. His thumb is warm as it slides over the edge of your lips. For a moment, it is hard to breathe. You cannot look away from his blue eyes, so focussed on the task at hand. His touch is gentle and you could be mistaken, but you swear that it lingers for longer than necessary. "There," he murmurs. "All gone." Prince Irus withdraws his hand and you suddenly grow hot under his gaze. You shiver, yearning for his touch once more but too afraid to voice your thoughts aloud. <<elseif $sugar_mouth is 2>> You lean in in anticipation as Prince Irus wipes away the sugar from the corner of your lips. He glances at you, his eyes darkened with something akin to desire. The noise of the rest of the patrons fades away as your attention remains on Prince Irus. There is an intensity in his eyes, the way he stares at your mouth while his thumb scrubs away any sign of sugar from your lips. You nearly part your mouth as his fingers trail a hot line across the skin of your lips but a cough from Sir Oren, suddenly reminds you that neither you nor Prince Irus are alone. Prince Irus smiles at you, a glimmer of hunger in his gaze as he withdraws his hand from your lips. "All gone," he breathes. <<elseif $sugar_mouth is 3>> "It's fine," you answer, wiping it away yourself. You reach up, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. It comes away in sugar and you smile at the sight. Prince Irus raises an eyebrow at you, grinning. "Slow down," he laughs. "The sweetmeats aren't going anywhere." In response, you grab another and bite into it. You nearly moan as the burst of flavour coats your tongue, a sugary delight in the heat of the early morning. <<elseif $sugar_mouth is 4>> "I can do it myself," you scoff, rubbing at your lips. Prince Irus shrugs, a slight fronw tugging at his lips before he returns his attention to the tray laid out on the table. You reach up, wiping away at your mouth. Your fingers come away coated in sugar. Unbothered by the sight, you reach for another sweetmeat and take a bite. Its sweetness bursts against your tongue and you sigh as you enjoy the sugary goodness. <<elseif $sugar_mouth is 5>> "It's alright," you reply, glancing at Sir Oren instead. Sir Oren must feel your gaze, because he turns to look at you. A slight smile tugs at his lips and he reaches out into one of the pockets of his coat and brings out a handkerchief. "Here," he offers, passing the cotton material to you. You reach out, taking the proffered handkerchief with a grateful smile. The material is warm, from resting inside Sir Oren's coat. Wiping away at your lips, you draw the handkerchief away. You glance up at Sir Oren and when you move to return the handkerchief, he smiles and waves his hand. "Keep it," he says. "It seems as if you need it more." <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_55a_1e]]

There is a burst of laughter to your right, the sound jarring and loud. It breaks the silence that had fallen over the table and you look up. <<if $night_one is 2>> Sir Oren catches your gaze, smiling softly at you. "I hope that you slept well, after last night," he murmurs. His voice is low, as if intending his words only for you. But by the way Prince Irus looks at you, you know that he must have heard Sir Oren as clearly as you did. <<if $irusRom gte 5>> "What happened last night?" Prince Irus asks, his blue gaze flitting between you and Sir Oren. "I could not sleep, so Sir Oren sparred with me," you explain. "Oh," Prince Irus replies, his eyebrows furrowing. "You could have always come to me, you know."<<elseif $irusRom lte 0>>"What happened last night?" Prince Irus asks, his blue gaze filling with sudden concern. "I could not sleep, so Sir Oren sparred with me," you explain. "You sparred with Sir Oren?" Prince Irus asks, his eyebrows raising. "Did you even win?" <<if $oren_fight is 3>>"I did actually," you answer, grinning. "He's no match for me."<<else>>"No," you mumble, looking down.<</if>> Prince Irus laughs good-naturedly and the atmosphere grows lighter.<</if>> <<elseif $night_one is 1>> Prince Irus glances at you, his blue eyes taking in your expression. You meet his gaze, frowning in response of his scrutiny. Is there more sugar on your face? "Did you manage to sleep last night?" he asks. "I did," you answer, thinking about the tower and your late night conversation with Prince Irus. Sir Oren turns to you, his eyes flickering with a hint of concern. "What happened last night?" "I couldn't sleep," you explain. "And Irus helped." <<if $shymoment is true>> "Oh? I would think that I did more than just help," Prince Irus replies with a wide grin. Your cheeks turn red and you manage to look down, before Sir Oren notices your expression.<<elseif $irus_chp2_kiss is true>>"I would think that we did more than just talk," Prince Irus remarks, his gaze unwavering. "Maybe you've forgotten," you tease, enjoying the heat pooling in your stomach.<</if>> <<elseif $night_one is 3>> "How did you sleep last night?" Prince Irus asks. He stretches his arms above his head. "I have to say, sleeping on an actual bed last night reminded me what I was missing." You think about your nightmare, and Queen Elora's garden of roses. She had opened up to you, last night, perhaps in a bid to get to know you better or perhaps it was to better understand your weaknesses. You look up and find Prince Irus watching you. Maybe it is because you're in the presence of Sir Oren and his guards that keeps you from telling Prince Irus about your time spent with Queen Elora. "I slept fine," you respond, hoping that Prince Irus does not pick up your lie. <<if $irusRel gte 57>> Prince Irus nods, but his eyes narrow at your words, as if sensing that you are keeping something back. Despite this, he remains silent, not voicing his thoughts.<</if>> <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_55a_1f]]

As you sip your tea, spiced with cloves and laced with honey, you turn towards Prince Irus. There is an ease in the that he holds himself, as if he already belongs in Aspal. It is a far different appearance than when you both had to flee. He catches your gaze, and tilts his head in a silent question. The Queen asked that you visit Aspal, to learn about its people in order for Prince Irus to persuade the other councillors that he is worth supporting. From what you have learnt about Prince Irus, you know that he does not worship any deity, nor does he seem to harbour any grudge against you because of your Ishari blood. <<set $irus_ruler_view_chp2 to 0>> [[You think that Prince Irus will be a better king than his uncle and father.|chp2_55a_1g][$irus_ruler_view_chp2 +=1]] [[You think that Prince Irus is the better option for ruling Cyre than his uncle, though you're not so certain that he will make a good king.|chp2_55a_1g][$irus_ruler_view_chp2 +=2]] [[You do not care who sits on the throne of Cyre, so long as it is not Virion.|chp2_55a_1g][$irus_ruler_view_chp2 +=3]] [[You think that there must be someone more suited to ruling Cyre than Prince Irus or his uncle.|chp2_55a_1g][$irus_ruler_view_chp2 +=4]] [[You do not care who rules, so long as they stop the war against Ishari.|chp2_55a_1g][$irus_ruler_view_chp2 +=5]]

Your thoughts are interrupted when a familiar guard, the one who stopped you and Prince Irus at the gates of Aspal, approaches Sir Oren. She is alone and her golden hair is bound into a tight plait. Her eyes flit towards where you and Prince Irus sit and she frowns. She murmurs something to Sir Oren, too low for you to hear over the din of the tent. You watch their exchange and notice a frown tug at Sir Oren's mouth. He glances to where you and Prince Irus sit, before letting out a sigh. "What do you think that's about?" Prince Irus asks. You eye the Captain and his Second, your eyebrows furrowed. "Maybe-" "My apologies," Sir Oren speaks, interrupting what you were about to say. "I am afraid that I must leave. I am required elsewhere, though Nerena will take my place in escorting you." You glance at Nerena, finding her pale, green eyes on you already. She wears twisted expression, as if pained. "It will be my honour to escort Your Highness and you, $name." From the tone of her voice, it is clear that Nerena would rather be doing anything else. You... <<set $chp2_55a_1g to 0>> [[...smile in response, hoping for a pleasant day with Nerena and Prince Irus.|chp2_55a_1h][$chp2_55a_1g +=1, $nerenaRel +=5]] [[...nod in response, hoping for a civil exchange with Nerena as she escorts you through Aspal.|chp2_55a_1h][$chp2_55a_1g +=2, $nerenaRel +=5]] [[...shrug in response, unbothered at who escorts you through Aspal.|chp2_55a_1h][$chp2_55a_1g +=3]] [[...frown in response, wishing that Sir Oren did not have to leave you with Nerena.|chp2_55a_1h][$chp2_55a_1g +=4, $nerenaRel -=5]] [[...scowl in response, annoyed that you're stuck with Nerena.|chp2_55a_1h][$chp2_55a_1g +=5, $nerenaRel -=5]]

<<if $chp2_55a_1g is 1>> Nerena seems surprised by your genial expression and after a moment, returns your smile with one of her own. It smooths out the hardness that lines her face, softening her expression into something friendlier. <<elseif $chp2_55a_1g is 2>> Nerena notices your nod and returns it with one of her own. You notice as the hardness in her gaze eases, the harshness of her expression smoothing out into one of civility. <<elseif $chp2_55a_1g is 3>> At your shrug, Nerena looks away, unperturbed by your response. She glances away, her expression unchanging as she stands alongside Sir Oren. <<elseif $chp2_55a_1g is 4>> Nerena catches sight of your frown, and her eyebrows narrow slightly when she gazes at you. There is a hardness in her eyes, the type of expression that threatens an unpleasant day with the Second. <<elseif $chp2_55a_1g is 5>> Your scowl elicits a hiss of irration from Nerena, and she casts you a glare. You do not flinch under her gaze and return her hard stare with one of your own. Nerena smiles, a flash of teeth, as if silently daring you to attack her. <</if>> Sir Oren clears his throat, drawing Nerena's attention towards him. There is a familiarity in the way that they stand together, one that suggests it runs deeper than simply working together as Vinian Royal Guards. "If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask Nerena," Sir Oren explains. "I will see the both of you back at the palace." Sir Oren offers you and Prince Irus a smile, before he departs. As soon as he is out of sight, Nerena lets out an amused scoff. Prince Irus raises an eyebrow at her, though Nerena seems unbothered by his look. "So where was Ore supposed to take you?" Nerena asks. "Let me guess, he wanted to take you to see the many temples, right?" "How did you know?" Prince Irus asks, frowning. "Ore takes everyone to the same places," Nerena replies. "I bet he didn't even mention the bazaar." "The bazaar?" you repeat, drawing Nerena's eyes onto you. "Yes, you know, the place where the merchants come to trade and sell their wares," she answers. "I mean, there's sand dancers too and beast tamers-" "Let's go," Prince Irus interjects, his eyes alight. Nerena chuckles, "That's the spirit. Come, before we better hurry if you don't want to miss the sand dancers." [[Next.|chp2_56]]

If Sir Oren was taking you on an official tour of Aspal, it becomes clear that Nerena is taking you on a very unofficial one. Nerena leads you away from the main roads, crowded as they are, and through narrow paths between tall buildings. She walks fast and it becomes increasingly difficult to keep up with her. Soon, you emerge out into a wide plaza, the noise around you deafening. Heat and sweat, odours that are sweet while others bring memories of drying fish in Salt Bay, compete to overwhelm your senses. You do not know where to look, for there are merchants parading around in carts while there are others who gather in stalls, yelling out to passing crowds. "Welcome to the bazaar," Nerena announces, her eyes gleaming. "Heart of the Ishari district." You stiffen, your eyes wide as you take in the rich fabrics and faces of those around you, so similar to your own. Sir Oren mentioned the Ishari district to you before, and you had been <<if $Idistrict is true>>eager to see it.<<elseif $Idistrict is false>>reluctant to visit it.<<elseif $Idistrict_uncertain is true>>unsure on how to feel about visiting the district.<</if>> No matter how you feel, you find yourself now surrounded by the very heritage that had been nearly decimated in Cyre. [[Next.|chp2_57]]

<<set $location to "The Grand Temple of the Twelve, Aspal.">>The steps to the temple are steep and long. You follow Sir Oren, as you ascend the wide staircase. Cylindrical columns enclose the temple, the pillars carved with intricate patterns and tales in a language that you're unfamiliar with. The temple is unlike anything you've seen before, not even like the Temple of Ehulla. It is wide and tall, sitting at the top of a natural hill. You gaze down, noticing that from the top of the stairs, you can see the rest of Aspal, including the palace. "This temple was built over two hundred years ago," Sir Oren explains. "As a tribute to the Twelve." He glances at you. "Do you worship any deity?" <<set $chp2_55c_1 to 0>> [["I worship many deities from different religions," you reply.|chp2_55c_2][$chp2_55c_1 +=1]] [["I worship the Ancient Ones," you explain.|chp2_55c_2][$chp2_55c_1 +=2]] [["I worship the deity Solus," you answer.|chp2_55c_2][$chp2_55c_1 +=3]] [["No, I do not worship any deity," you say.|chp2_55c_2][$chp2_55c_1 +=4]] [["I was never a believer, but I am starting to think that I might be wrong," you respond.|chp2_55c_2][$chp2_55c_1 +=5]]

<<if $chp2_55c_1 is 1>> "I worship many deities from different religions," you reply. Sir Oren finds your gaze and there is something like kinship in the way that he looks at you. "That is a good then," he explains. "Many, including myself, worship many different deities. My Baba is a worshipper of the Twelve and my Adda, worships the Ancient Ones. You will find that many of our different deities, share the same values." <<elseif $chp2_55c_1 is 2>> "I worship the Ancient Ones," you explain. "Ah, a true Ishari then?" Sir Oren asks, but there is a grin on his face. "I, myself, worship many of the different deities. My Baba worships the Twelve and my Adda worships the Ancient Ones. Growing up, we were always doing some prayer or the other." <<elseif $chp2_55c_1 is 3>> "I worship the deity Solus," you answer. Sir Oren nods, casting you a sideways glance. "Solus is the deity introduced to Cyre by the late King?" Prince Irus is a few steps behind the both of you and makes no sign that he has overheard your conversation. "Yes," you answer. "Many in Cyre do not know this, but in the smaller, southern islands, Solus is not worshipped alone. He is worshipped with his three sisters, Neoma, Tala and Cila," Sir Oren replies. "It is a shame to think that Solus is worshipped alone in Cyre." <<elseif $chp2_55c_1 is 4>> "No, I do not worship any deity," you say. Sir Oren nods thoughtfully, glancing towards where Prince Irus walks behind you. "You and His Highness are alike then. Perhaps it is why the issues of your different cultures has not marred your relationship." You frown, thinking about Sir Oren's reply. He is right that neither you, nor Prince Irus have had any issues regarding your Ishari heritage but is it solely because neither of you worship any gods? <<elseif $chp2_55c_1 is 5>> "I was never a believer, but I am starting to think that I might be wrong," you respond. Sir Oren glances at you, smiling slightly. "Many forget the gods in their pursuit of life, though somehow, we always find our way back to them." Is Sir Oren right? Are you finding your way back to the gods, after everything that has happened? Perhaps it is true, but you cannot be certain. <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_55c_3]]

As you follow Sir Oren through a large doorway that extends far past the height of a normal human, you enter the inner chamber of the temple. Unlike the Temple of Ehulla that had been abandoned, The Grand Temple of the Twelve is kept in far better condition. Bronze braziers are mounted on every side of the room, emitting heat and smoke, the smell thick with lotus blossoms. It is darker inside, with people murmuring softly to each other. As your eyes take in the high walls and praying crowds, your attention is stolen by a wide awning. Beneath it, twelve different statues have been lined so that they overlook the entrance of the temple. Many of the worshippers have laid flowers at their bases, while others kneel before them and pray. "The Twelve," Sir Oren explains. "It is said that they once lived in this temple, watching over Vinia. Now, they have each taken a home in their own temples, blessing those who worship them." <<set $chp2_55c_3 to 0>> [["It is beautiful," you breathe, your eyes taking in the Twelve.|chp2_55c_4][$chp2_55c_3 +=1, $orenRel +=1]] [["It reminds me of the Ancient Ones," you reply.|chp2_55c_4][$chp2_55c_3 +=2, $orenRel +=1]] [["It is peaceful here," you murmur.|chp2_55c_4][$chp2_55c_3 +=3, $orenRel +=1]] [["The statues are magnificent," you reply, marvelling at the level of detail in the carved stone.|chp2_55c_4][$chp2_55c_3 +=4, $orenRel +=1]] [["It is nothing impressive," you sigh.|chp2_55c_4][$chp2_55c_3 +=5, $orenRel -=1]]

<<if $chp2_55c_3 is 1>> "It is beautiful," you breathe, your eyes taking in the Twelve. "It is," Sir Oren agrees. "Even if you do not believe, their beauty is enough to soothe a raging mind." Prince Irus moves to stand on your left. You look at the Prince's face, his expression pinched and his eyebrows furrowed. At his sides, his fingers curl into fists. Where Sir Oren is at peace, it is evident that being in temple only seems to cause Prince Irus turmoil. <<elseif $chp2_55c_3 is 2>> "It reminds me of the Ancient Ones," you reply. Sir Oren nods in response, his hazel eyes finding yours. "You are right. The Twelve and the Ancient Ones share many similiar beliefs. Both are said to have come from the skies, to settle upon our world." Prince Irus moves to stand on your left. You look at the Prince's face, his expression pinched and his eyebrows furrowed. At his sides, his fingers curl into fists. Where Sir Oren is at peace, it is evident that being in temple only seems to cause Prince Irus turmoil. <<elseif $chp2_55c_3 is 3>> "It is peaceful here," you murmur. "It is," Sir Oren murmurs softly. "I sometimes come here when I need to clear my mind." Prince Irus moves to stand on your left. You look at the Prince's face, his expression pinched and his eyebrows furrowed. At his sides, his fingers curl into fists. Where Sir Oren is at peace, it is evident that being in temple only seems to cause Prince Irus turmoil. <<elseif $chp2_55c_3 is 4>> "The statues are magnificent," you reply, marvelling at the level of detail in the carved stone. "King Haban is said to have commissioned only the best artisans to sculpt the Twelve," Sir Oren explains. "It took nearly two decades before they were ready." Prince Irus moves to stand on your left. You look at the Prince's face, his expression pinched and his eyebrows furrowed. At his sides, his fingers curl into fists. Where Sir Oren is at peace, it is evident that being in temple only seems to cause Prince Irus turmoil. <<elseif $chp2_55c_3 is 5>> "It is nothing impressive," you sigh. Sir Oren frowns, casting you a glance from where he stands. It is clear that he disagrees with your words, but he refrains from voicing his own thoughts as you did. Prince Irus moves to stand on your left. You look at the Prince's face, his expression pinched and his eyebrows furrowed. At his sides, his fingers curl into fists. Where Sir Oren is at peace, it is evident that being in temple only seems to cause Prince Irus turmoil. <</if>><<set $chp2_55c_4 to 0>> [["What's wrong?" you ask in concern.|chp2_55c_5][$chp2_55c_4 +=1, $irusRel +=1]] [["We can leave if you want," you suggest.|chp2_55c_5][$chp2_55c_4 +=2, $irusRel +=1]] [["You don't need to look so dour," you tease, trying to cheer him up. "They're only statues."|chp2_55c_5][$chp2_55c_4 +=3, $irusRel +=1]] [["Stop sulking," you huff in irritation.|chp2_55c_5][$chp2_55c_4 +=4, $irusRel -=1]] [["I am not comfortable with religion either," you whisper. "Maybe we should leave?"|chp2_55c_5][$chp2_55c_4 +=5, $irusRel +=1]]

<<if $chp2_55c_4 is 1>> "What's wrong?" you ask in concern. Prince Irus sighs, his blue eyes meeting yours. "It just brings up memories that I would rather not remember." "Memories?" you question. "What kind of memories?" He shakes his head, looking away from your stare. Instead, Prince Irus lets out a tired breath, his eyes dulling with some unsaid pain that he does not seem eager to share with you. "It doesn't matter, $name," he answers. <<elseif $chp2_55c_4 is 2>> "We can leave if you want," you suggest. "No," he replies, lips pursing. "Don't mind me. We'll stay. Besides, I need to be able to convince Ellie's councillors that I'm someone worth supporting and if they find out that I've walked out from their temple, it will only worsen my position." Looking away from you, Prince Irus lets out a weary sigh, glancing at the statues once more. There is a hard look in his gaze, one that makes him look tired and in pain. <<elseif $chp2_55c_4 is 3>> "You don't need to look so dour," you tease, trying to cheer him up. "They're only statues." Prince Irus manages a smile, but it does not last long. His gaze travels along the statues, his eyebrows furrowing as he gazes at them. "Perhaps," he murmurs. "But look at the others, $name. They worship these deities and I am certain that Ellie's councillors worship them too. I must impress them, even learn about their gods, if I am to win their support." <<elseif $chp2_55c_4 is 4>> "Stop sulking," you huff in irritation. Prince Irus' ire is suddenly on you. His eyes narrow as he stares at your face, his lips pressed into a thin line and his jaw clenching tightly. A moment passes, before he turns away from your gaze, scowling at the statues. "I am not sulking," he mutters. "I am allowed to feel the way I want to feel about the deities." "You're to win over the support of Queen Elora's councillors," you reply. "How will you accomplish that if you shun their gods?" Prince Irus scoffs, a sound of reluctant agreement. <<elseif $chp2_55c_4 is 5>> "I am not comfortable with religion either," you whisper. "Maybe we should leave?" Prince Irus glances at you, his eyes crinkling as he hides a smile from the other worshippers. "Do you think that we can sneak out without Sir Oren noticing?" You raise an eyebrow. "I was thinking that we ask Sir Oren to escort us to some other place." Smile widening, Prince Irus leans closer to you, his eyes filling with amusement. It is a far different expression to the weary one he had been wearing only a few seconds ago. "Where would be the fun in that?" he laughs. He draws back, now smiling. "It would wrong to leave now, $name. If I am to convince Ellie's councillors to support me then I will have to learn about their gods too." <</if>> Your conversation with Prince Irus is interrupted, when you notice that a smaller set of doors at the end of the room, is opened by robed priests. A line of worshippers form and they are permitted entry into the chamber. "That is the inner sanctum," Sir Oren says, noticing your stare. "It is for those who are looking for help from the Twelve. If you want, we may enter as well." Prince Irus waves away Sir Oren's offer. "I'll remain outside here, if you want to pray, $name." <<set $chp2_pray_irus to false>> [["I would like to go inside the inner sanctum," you say, turning to Sir Oren.|chp2_55c_6a]] [["I would rather remain outside as well," you answer, glancing at Prince Irus.|chp2_55c_6b][$chp2_pray_irus to true]]

"I would like to go inside the inner sanctum," you say, turning to Sir Oren. "Very well," Sir Oren answers. "My guards will watch over you, Your Highness while I escort $name." Prince Irus shrugs, returning his attention onto the statues of the Twelve as you follow Sir Oren into the inner sanctum. You join the congregation of worshippers as they are ushered inside the sanctum. The line moves quickly, despite its length. You step into the sanctum, the air heavy with incense as you enter. Your eyes adjust easily to the dim light, though you find it difficult not to blink as your vision blurs. In the centre of the sanctum, a large, uncarved stone stands tall, nearly scraping against the ceiling of the santum. "The Stone of the Twelve," Sir Oren explains, his voice low. "It is a sacred stone, and those in search of aid from the gods will come here to ask that their prayers are answered." People gather in groups, some reaching out and touching the stone while others simply pray from a distance. There is a sense of calm in the sanctum, it washes over the room, erasing any feeling of pain or worry. <<set $chp2_pray_twelve to false>> [[You choose to pray as well.|chp2_55c_6a_1][$chp2_pray_twelve to true]] [[You do not pray.|chp2_55c_6a_1]]

"I would rather remain outside as well," you answer, glancing at Prince Irus. Sir Oren nods at the both of you, as you find yourself walking besides Prince Irus. For a moment, it is quiet, with Prince Irus stepping towards one of the braziers. He is silent, pensive as he runs a finger along the brass filigree of the brazier's stand. "What is it?" you ask. Prince Irus lets out a breath, glancing at you from the corner of his eyes. "I just didn't think that securing Ellie's aid would be this difficult." "She's giving you a chance," you reply, walking alongside Prince Irus. "A chance to prove myself, perhaps," he sighs. A frown tugs at his lips. "Or a chance to fail." <<set $chp2_55c_6b to 0>> [["I believe that you will succeed," you reply, smiling.|chp2_55c_6c][$chp2_55c_6b +=1, $irusRel +=2]] [[♡"You will succeed," you breathe, heart fluttering. "I know that you will."|chp2_55c_6c][$chp2_55c_6b +=2, $irusRel +=2, $irusRom +=3, $flirt_shy +=5]] [[♡"Do not doubt yourself," you respond, gazing up at him. "I will help you in any manner that I can."|chp2_55c_6c][$chp2_55c_6b +=3, $irusRel +=2, $irusRom +=3, $flirt_bold +=5]] [["You're overthinking this," you reply with a shrug.|chp2_55c_6c][$chp2_55c_6b +=4]] [["Stop complaining and do something about it," you mutter.|chp2_55c_6c][$chp2_55c_6b +=5, $irusRel -=2]]

<<if $chp2_pray_twelve is true>> You move towards the large stone, your feet carrying you as your eyes travel accross its mass. The stone is rough, you realise, and there are no signs of it being carved. Perhaps the temple was built around this stone? You have not encountered the Twelve before. In Salt Bay, only worship of Solus was permitted and your time in Ishari was cut short, when you and Mama had to flee. As you gaze up at the stone, you feel a sense of awe. It bathes you in a moment of peace, one that eases your troubles. Closing your eyes, you find yourself praying. The thoughts come unbidden and your prayer remains silent in your mind. Yet, as you reopen your eyes, you find that there is a small bud of hope, within you. You turn towards Sir Oren and nod, ready to leave. <<else>> You refrain from praying, instead, letting the quietness of the room wash over you. The stone is large, you realise, as your eyes travel across its rough edges. You muse that the temple must have been built around the stone, for there is no one who would be able to carry it into the sanctum. As you glance over at Sir Oren, you notice that his eyes are closed and his lips move together, a silent prayer unspoken. It is odd to see the Captain, normally alert and guarded, now at peace as he prays. His eyes open and you look away, not wanting to be caught staring at him. "Are you ready to leave?" Sir Oren asks. You nod, following him out of the sanctum. <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_55c_6a_2]]

<<if $night_one is 2>> Sir Oren glances at you as you follow the snaking line that leads out of the sanctum. His hazel eyes are warm, a hint of concern in them. "Did you sleep well after our spar last night?" he asks. You nod, as you reply, "I did." Sir Oren offers you a bright smile, his expression suddenly unguarded. "Good. If you ever need anything, do not hesitate to come to me. I know that it must be an adjustment for you to be in the palace." <<else>> Sir Oren glances at you as you follow the snaking line that leads out of the sanctum. His hazel eyes are warm, an inviting expression on his face. "I am glad that you wanted to visit the inner sanctum," he says. "Even if you do not believe, you will still have learnt something to aid His Highness with the other councillors." You look at Sir Oren, surprised by his level of understanding of the situation. Perhaps, he is more than a simple Captain. He notices you stare and offers you a wide grin. "I was never born into wealth, so I taught myself what I had to know in order to keep Her Majesty safe," he explains. "If you ever need anything, do not hesitate to come to me. I know that it must be an adjustment for you to be in the palace."<</if>> <<set $chp2_55c_6a_2 to 0>> [["Thank you," you answer with a smile. "I will keep it in mind."|chp2_55c_6a_3][$chp2_55c_6a_2 +=1, $orenRel +=2]] [["T-Thank you," you murmur, your heart fluttering.|chp2_55c_6a_3][$chp2_55c_6a_2 +=2, $orenRel +=2]] [["I will definitely keep that in mind," you reply, smirking at the Captain.|chp2_55c_6a_3][$chp2_55c_6a_2 +=3, $orenRel +=2]] [[You shrug in response, uninterested in his offer.|chp2_55c_6a_3][$chp2_55c_6a_2 +=4]] [["I'm not as useless as you," you scoff. "And I don't need your help."|chp2_55c_6a_3][$chp2_55c_6a_2 +=5, $orenRel -=2]]

<<if $chp2_55c_6a_2 is 1>> "Thank you," you answer with a smile. "I will keep it in mind." Sir Oren smiles in response, his eyes soft and reassuring as they meet yours. There is a kindness in his gaze, one that is not often shared by those you have met in Salt Bay. He does not judge you for your heritage or your status and you feel comfortable enough in his presence to relax. "That is good," Sir Oren replies, patting your shoulder. "If you ever need a friend, know that I will be here." <<elseif $chp2_55c_6a_2 is 2>> "T-Thank you," you murmur, your heart fluttering. If Sir Oren noticed your stutter, he makes no mention of it. Instead, he casts you a warm smile, the kind that makes his hazel eyes brighten as he looks at you. It sends a flurry of emotions through you, leaving you breathless and warm and very aware of how close you stand together. "It will be good to spend more time with you, $name," Sir Oren says, smiling at you. <<elseif $chp2_55c_6a_2 is 3>> "I will definitely keep that in mind," you reply, smirking at the Captain. The teasing in your voice seems to go ignored by Sir Oren. For a moment, you wonder if he is spurning your attempt at flirting with him, but when he offers you a kind smile, his cheeks tinged with red, you realise that your words have flustered the Captain. "That will be good then," Sir Oren answers, his eyes not meeting yours. <<elseif $chp2_55c_6a_2 is 4>> You shrug in response, uninterested in his offer. While the Captain might be genuine in his offer, you see no need for it. Sir Oren glances at you, frowning slightly when you do not respond. He lets out a sigh, turning away from you as you follow the line out of the sanctum. <<elseif $chp2_55c_6a_2 is 5>> "I'm not as useless as you," you scoff. "And I don't need your help." Sir Oren's eyes widen at your response, his lips pursing into a frown. His gaze lacks the heat of anger, but you know that by the way he clenches his hands at his sides that he is frustrated. But why should he be? You are not as useless as he or anyone else thinks and you do not need his help. "I was only trying to help you," Sir Oren replies. "I don't need your help," you mutter. "Especially not yours." <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_55c_6a_4]]

<<if $chp2_pray_irus is true>> You and Prince Irus eventually make your way back to the main chamber of the temple, with Sir Oren and his guards following a few steps behind you. You have seen most of the temple already and by the way Prince Irus seems to frown, you realise that it is time to leave. "Captain." The voice is feminine, though no less commanding. You look up and find a familiar guard, the woman from yesterday who stopped you and Prince Irus from entering Vinia's gates. "Nerena," Sir Oren greets. "What are you doing here?" Nerena moves to where Sir Oren stands and you watch as they speaked in hushed tones, too low for you to hear. Prince Irus sighs, glancing at them in boredom. "Do you think that they wear anything under all that heavy armour?" Prince Irus asks. You frown, before opening your mouth to reply. "I don't-" Sir Oren returns, clearing his throat. He wears an apologetic expression on his face, his eyes finding yours before he turns to face Prince Irus. "I am sorry," he says. "I am afraid that I will have to return to the palace for the rest of the afternoon. However, my Second, Nerena will be escorting you in my stead." <<else>> You and Sir Oren make your way back into the main chamber of the temple. Prince Irus glances up as you make your way over to him, looking both irritated and ready to leave. You frown, suddenly noticing a woman, behind him. It takes you a moment to realise that it is the same guard who stopped you from entering Vinia the previous day. "Nerena," Sir Oren says, noticing her as well. "What are you doing here?" Nerena moves to where Sir Oren stands and you watch as they speaked in hushed tones, too low for you to hear. Prince Irus sighs, moving to stand next to you. "How was the sanctum?" Prince Irus asks. You open your mouth to reply, but are interrupted when Sir Oren turns towards you and Prince Irus, wearing an aplogetic expression. "I am sorry," he says. "I am afraid that I will have to return to the palace for the rest of the afternoon. However, my Second, Nerena will be escorting you in my stead." <</if>> You glance at Nerena, finding her pale, green eyes on you already. She wears twisted expression, as if pained. "It will be my honour to escort Your Highness and you, $name." From the tone of her voice, it is clear that Nerena would rather be doing anything else. You... <<set $chp2_55a_1g to 0>> [[...smile in response, hoping for a pleasant day with Nerena and Prince Irus.|chp2_55a_1h][$chp2_55a_1g +=1, $nerenaRel +=5]] [[...nod in response, hoping for a civil exchange with Nerena as she escorts you through Aspal.|chp2_55a_1h][$chp2_55a_1g +=2, $nerenaRel +=5]] [[...shrug in response, unbothered at who escorts you through Aspal.|chp2_55a_1h][$chp2_55a_1g +=3]] [[...frown in response, wishing that Sir Oren did not have to leave you with Nerena.|chp2_55a_1h][$chp2_55a_1g +=4, $nerenaRel -=5]] [[...scowl in response, annoyed that you're stuck with Nerena.|chp2_55a_1h][$chp2_55a_1g +=5, $nerenaRel -=5]]

<<if $chp2_55c_6b is 1>> "I believe that you will succeed," you reply, smiling. Prince Irus breathes out, his shoulders relaxing slightly. Glancing at you, he returns your smile, albeit slightly smaller than usual. The glow of the lit brazier dances across Prince Irus' face, casting his expression in shadows. There is self-doubt in his eyes, a look so foreign on his expression that you cannot help but stare. "That makes one of us," he answers. "But thank you, $name. Perhaps if one person believes in me, it will be enough." "It will be more than enough," you reply. "When the councillors meet you, they will see a future king." "I hope that you are right," Prince Irus sighs. <<elseif $chp2_55c_6b is 2>> "You will succeed," you breathe, heart fluttering. "I know that you will." Prince Irus turns, his eyes finding yours over the dancing flames from the brazier. Heat surges through you, blossoming from your chest and warming you to the very tips of your fingers. You cannot breathe, nor can you look away from the piercing blue of his eyes. "Your faith in me is astonishing," he murmurs, his voice rough. He reaches out, grazing the side of your face, sending newfound heat through your cheeks. "We have barely known each other for a week, how can you be so certain that I will succeed?" Your breath hitches and you look away. "I just do," you answer. "I believe in you Irus." He draws his hand away, and you suddenly long for his touch once more. "Perhaps your faith in me is all I need, $name." <<elseif $chp2_55c_6b is 3>> "Do not doubt yourself," you respond, gazing up at him. "I will help you in //any// manner that I can." Prince Irus arches an eyebrow at you, casting you a sidelong look. There is a hint of a smirk, tugging at his lips and you are suddenly grateful that Sir Oren is a few steps away from you, unable to hear or sense the charged air between you and Prince Irus. "In any manner?" Prince Irus asks, teasing. "I suppose there are many things we could do together that would help ease my worries." You grin wider, sidling up closer to Prince Irus. The heat from his skin causes a delicious warmth to spread through you. You shiver, wanting nothing more than to grip his shoulders and draw him closer. "Oh? And what might those things entail?" you ask. "Perhaps you will find out soon enough," Prince Irus responds, his eyes lingering on your mouth. "But for now, know that your support in me is more than enough to soothe my worries." <<elseif $chp2_55c_6b is 4>> "You're overthinking this," you reply with a shrug. Prince Irus sighs shakily, running his fingers through the golden curls atop his head. He eyes the temple walls, and then, the worshippers who continue to enter the inner sanctum of the temple. Frowining, Prince Irus glances at you. "Perhaps I am overthinking this," he replies. "But I cannot help it. My entire future rests on whether I can secure Ellie's support in reclaiming the throne." "Then stop thinking about what you should be doing and how it can go wrong and instead, focus on trying to win the councillors' support," you answer. Prince Irus nods, but the self-doubt in his gaze does not waver. <<elseif $chp2_55c_6b is 5>> "Stop complaining and do something about it," you mutter. Prince Irus turns towards you, his eyes narrowing at your words. You can tell that he is annoyed by the way his eyebrows furrow and from the way his jaw clenches. Your words struck a nerve with the Prince. "What do you think that I am doing?" Prince Irus demands. "I am trying my best." You roll your eyes. "Just because you're the Prince, doesn't mean that people will hand you the throne simply because your father named you his heir." "That's not what I said," he spits. "No, but it is what you expected," you retort. "Queen Elora did not help you and so you started to mope. Now she is giving you a chance to win the support of her councillors and you still complain." Prince Irus glowers at you, opening his mouth then closing it. Without speaking, he continues forward, leaving you a few steps behind. <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_55c_6d]]

As you walk through the temple, you find that Sir Oren glancing in your direction. When he catches your gaze, he smiles kindly. <<if $night_one is 2>> "I hope that you managed to sleep well after last night," Sir Oren murmurs. <<if $irusRom gte 5>> Prince Irus frowns, his eyebrows pressing down as he glances at you and then at Sir Oren. "What do you mean?" Prince Irus asks. "What happened last night?" "I couldn't sleep," you explain. "Sir Oren found me wandering the palace and he offered to spar with me." A strange look, something akin to jealousy, flickers through Prince Irus' blue gaze as he glances at you once more. For a moment, you wonder if your close bond has something to do with it. "I see," Prince Irus mumbles. <<elseif $irusRom lte 0>> "What happened yesterday?" Prince Irus asks, his eyes finding yours. "I couldn't sleep," you explain. "Sir Oren found me wandering the palace and he offered to spar with me." "Did you at least win?" Prince Irus questions.<</if>> <<if $oren_fight gte 3>> "I did," you exclaim.<<else>>"No," you sigh.<</if>> You return your attention onto Sir Oren. "I did sleep well after our spar." Sir Oren nods, smiling once more. "That is good to hear." <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_55c_6a_4]]

"You're Ishari, right?" Nerena asks, glancing at you. You manage a nod, your breath catching in the back of your throat. The crowds around you are thick, moving without any sense or pattern. All around, voices are raised to be heard over the din of chatter. Some wear vibrant robes while others wear barely nothing at all. It is hard to take it all in. <<set $chp2_57 to 0>> [[You are overwhelmed. You cannot think or breathe. You need to leave. Now.|chp2_58][$chp2_57 +=1]] [[You tremble, both overwhelmed at the sight of the Ishari district, yet eager to visit it.|chp2_58][$chp2_57 +=2]] [[You smile widely, excited at the prospect of being surrounded by others who share your heritage.|chp2_58][$chp2_57 +=3]] [[You remain still, numb as you gaze at those like you, living freely and without fear.|chp2_58][$chp2_57 +=4]]

<<if $chp2_57 is 1>> You are overwhelmed. You cannot think or breathe. You need to leave. //Now.// You stumble back, your spine pressing against the sharp edge of a nearby crate. You choke, your throat tight and your lungs on fire as they cry out for air. You need to breathe. But you cannot. How can you? Prince Irus turns towards you, his eyes widening when notices your expression. He draws closer, hands resting on your shoulders. "What's wrong, $name?" he asks. You glance up at Prince Irus, your eyes wide and your breaths coming out in sharp pants. Prince Irus draws you farther away from the bazaar, so that you're both hidden in an alcove. "Just breathe," he murmurs softly. "In and out. That's it." You listen to his voice, his soothing words and breathe in and out. In and out. It takes you a moment before your lungs no longer feel as if they're being constricted. Prince Irus smiles at you, his eyes warm. "We can leave if you want," he explains. "Come, I'll tell Nerena." <<elseif $chp2_57 is 2>> You tremble, both overwhelmed at the sight of the Ishari district, yet eager to visit it. Conflicting emotions pull at you, one leaning towards the bazaar while the more fearful, draws you back. You find yourself stepping forward, only to stumble back. How can this be? All your life, you have forced to endure the hatred of others for your Ishari heritage and yet, here, it seems to be celebrated. You want to visit the bazaar, to see others like you and yet, you also tremble at the thought of getting closer. Prince Irus turns, noticing you as you quake. He draws closer, his eyebrows furrowing. "Are you alright?" he asks. "Maybe we should go back to the palace. Wait here, I'll tell Nerena." <<elseif $chp2_57 is 3>> You smile widely, excited at the prospect of being surrounded by others who share your heritage. When you fled Ishari with Mama, you were condemned to a life where you were shunned simply because of your Ishari blood. Yet, here, it seems as if it is celebrated. Your eyes take in the different stalls, the sights and the noise and you wonder if this is what your life would have been like if Mama and you remained in Ishari. Would you have grown up not knowing what it is to be hated, simply because of your heritage? It is a strange feeling, a liberating one and you find yourself smiling wider as you gaze upon the bazaar. Prince Irus glances towards you, catching your expression. He smiles. "I'll ask Nerena to take us to the sand dancers," he says, before moving towards Nerena. <<elseif $chp2_57 is 4>> You remain still, numb as you gaze at those like you, living freely and without fear. All your life, you've had to endure the stares and the whispers, all because of your Ishari heritage. Yet, here are people just like you, walking freely, without shame for who they are and what they believe in. Numbness spreads through you, a chilling feeling despite the heat all around you. You stare, unable to move, as you gaze at the bazaar. Throngs of people, visit the bazaar, no looks of derision, no pointed stares. It is a strange sight, one that you have never truly known. Prince Irus turns, his eyes finding yours. He speaks, his mouth moving but his voice sounds faint over the din of the bazaar. When you do not speak, Prince Irus frowns and draws closer. "I'm going to ask Nerena about the sand dancers," he explains, before turning towards the guard. <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_59]]

The crowds around you thicken, people making their way towards the bazaar. Prince Irus is still a few metres from you, speaking with Nerena. It is loud and the heat is oppressive, as it curls around you like the coiled tail of a serpent. You swipe at your brow, sweat beading against your forehead. There is shade behind you, a small respite to the humidity that clings to your skin. You step back, letting out a breath as the shade momentarily relieves you from the weight of the sun. But the rest does not last long. A sharp edge, shoves into your shoulder. You let out a pained yell and turn around to face your attacker. A large, wooden crate jostles before you, two dark hands gripping it from toppling over. [[Next.|chp2_60]]

"Watch it!" a voice yells, deep and annoyed from behind the crate. You frown, rubbing at your shoulder as the crate is lowered, allowing you to come face to face with your attacker. Dark eyes, narrowed and shadowed by thick eyebrows stare at you. It is a man, perhaps younger than you, but by the way he glares at you tells you that he has no qualms in treating you with disrespect. "I could've dropped my wares," he hisses. "You're lucky that I didn't or I swear that-" "What would you swear?" Nerena demands, suddenly at your side. Her hand settles on the sword sheathed at her hip and she grins coldly. The man glances at Nerena, his face paling but the anger in his eyes remains as fiery as before. <<set $chp2_60 to 0>> [["It's alright," you say, coming to his defence. "I shouldn't have been standing in the way."|chp2_61][$zikarRel +=5]] [["I'm sorry. This is all just a misunderstanding," you explain, hoping to diffuse the tension.|chp2_61][$zikarRel +=5]] [["You should be the one watching where you walk," you snap. "I could have been seriously injured."|chp2_61][$zikarRel -=5]] [["Can we all just move on?" you ask, tired.|chp2_61]] [["Please don't hurt him Nerena," you plead.|chp2_61][$zikarRel +=5]] [["You should arrest him," you huff, glancing at Nerena.|chp2_61][$zikarRel -=5]]

Your words are cut short when an elderly woman, half runs, half limps to where you all stand. She is stout, far shorter than any of you and her hair is cropped short, grey with specks of darkness that belies the colour it once must have been. "Zikar," she calls. "Stop it. Behave yourself!" "But //Ama//," Zikar whines. "I nearly dropped our wares because-" "No, I don't want to hear it," the woman interrupts. "You apologise right now for the mess you've caused." The man, Zikar lets out a weighty breath, turning to you in reluctance. Behind you, Prince Irus raises an eyebrow, an unimpressed expression on his face. "I am very sorry for yelling at you," Zikar mumbles. The woman nods, pleased, though Zikar frowns. "But if you had just moved out my way then-" "Zikar," the woman shouts. "Must I get your Adda involved?" She shakes her head, glancing at Nerena in contrition. "Please forgive my grandson, Honourable Guard. He is a good boy, but sometimes, his anger gets the best of him. Nerena shrugs, glancing towards you. "It is $name that needs the apology." [[Next.|chp2_62]]

The elderly woman turns towards you, her eyes milky but no less alert. She draws closer, peering up at your face, her expression pinched. It is hard to tell what she is thinking as she examines your face, her eyes roaming over features, as if committing it to memory. "Ama," Zikar calls, but the woman shushes him. "I am sorry child," the woman says, her eyes finding yours. "My eyesight isn't what it used to be. For a moment, you reminded me of my Salyra." You blink. Salyra? No, you must have heard wrong. It cannot be. Your nightmare must have brought up memories of Mama and now you are mistaken. "Ama, not this again," Zikar mutters. "Your dreams meant nothing. Salyra is not coming back." There it is again. This time, you know what you heard. //Salyra.// You have not heard Mama's name in so long. Is it a coincidence? Do other people share your mother's name? "Forgive me child," the woman says, turning to you. "It is that you just reminded me. It is the eyes you know, there is a light in them that Salyra had." <<set $chp2_62 to 0>> [[You cannot breathe or think. This must be another dream, or a nightmare.|chp2_63][$chp2_62 +=1]] [[Your knees buckle under your weight, hopeful and frightened.|chp2_63][$chp2_62 +=2]] [[You shake, your heart racing at the possibility of something you never imagined could be true.|chp2_63][$chp2_62 +=3]] [[You let out a sob, unable to stop your pain and sorrow from escaping.|chp2_63][$chp2_62 +=4]] [[You let out a frustrated growl, not daring to believe the impossible.|chp2_63][$chp2_62 +=5]]

<<if $chp2_62 is 1>> You cannot breathe or think. This must be another dream, or a nightmare. Yes. It must be that. Or maybe the heat has finally burnt into your mind, boiling your thoughts. This is a mistake. Or a coincidence. You refuse to believe otherwise. A laugh bubbles up, in the back of your throat. The elderly woman frowns at you, her eyes filled with concern. Do you seem unhinged? Maybe you are? Your laugh spills past your lips, the sound wild and hysterical. Prince Irus moves towards you, frowing. "$name," he calls. "What's going on?" You turn to him, eyes wide. "Don't you see? This is just another nightmare about my mother. Salyra is my mother's name. Of course I would dream about it again." <<elseif $chp2_62 is 2>> Your knees buckle under your weight, hopeful and frightened. You falter, stumbling back and feel Prince Irus place a steadying hand on your shoulder. It is hard to breathe as you stare at the woman. Her face, pulled with sudden concern, peers at you. Hope flutters in your chest as you watch this woman, hoping to learn something you never thought could be possible. And yet, fear grips you in the wake of your hope, coiling in the pit of your gut. It cannot be true. Your mother could not have family here, because you would have known. Mama would have told you. "$name," Prince Irus murmurs. "What's going on?" Your voice is barely above a whisper as you answer, "Salyra is my mother's name." <<elseif $chp2_62 is 3>> You shake, your heart racing at the possibility of something you never imagined could be true. There is a buzzing, a gnawing feeling of exictement and dread and everything else that torments you at the thought of your mother. Pacing, you begin to think over the possibilities. Your mother must have had family. Of course she had family. But are they here now? Or is your hope just leading you astray. It is hard to think over the thundering roar of your heartbeat and all you want to do is silence it. "$name," Prince Irus calls, halting you with a hand on your shoulder. "What's going on?" "I... Salyra is my mother's name," you breathe, eyes wide. <<elseif $chp2_62 is 4>> You let out a sob, unable to stop your pain and sorrow from escaping. Your throat constricts and your chest tightens. It is hard to breathe, to feel anything by the wave of agony and torment that comes spewing from your mouth. Your hands clamp over your eyes, tears stinging at them as you taste salt dribbling down your lips. Another sob escapes you, this time, the sound more broken than before. Your shoulders shake, and you cannot stop the strained whimpers and shaky breaths that claw at the back of your throat. "$name," Prince Irus calls, suddenly alert. "What's wrong?" You can barely speak, your words coming out in sharp gasps. "Salyra... is my... mother's name." <<elseif $chp2_62 is 5>> You let out a frustrated growl, not daring to believe the impossible. This cannot be true, let alone possible. Your mother is gone, and whether or not she had any family, it does not mean that the people standing in front of you are them. Mama would never have left you behind in Salt Bay if she had family somewhere safer. No. This is a mistake. Perhaps fate is laughing at you or maybe it is simply the cruelty that you must continue to endure, all because you were born to a world that hated you for your heritage. The elderly woman frowns, her face creasing in concern. But you ignore it. You ignore the worming thoughts that pierce at your mind, ignoring the thoughts that you could be wrong or that this is actually your family. "$name," Prince Irus calls. "What is the matter?" You turn towards him, frowning. "Salyra is my mother's name," you explain. "Of course it means nothing. None of this means anything." <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_64]]

"Salyra," the woman breathes, her milky eyes tearing. "You knew Salyra? It cannot be... is it true?" Zikar suddenly draws towards his grandmother, throwing his arms over the smaller woman, protectively. He turns to glare at you, as if you are the reason for his grandmother's tears, as if you are their enemy. "Look at what you've done," he spits. <<if $irusRel gt $nerenaRel>> Prince Irus scowls, moving to stand between you and Zikar. His eyes narrow at Zikar, the Prince easily a head and half taller than the young man. "That is enough," Prince Irus hisses. "$name did nothing wrong. Now step back or we will have a bigger problem than making your grandmother cry." Zikar sniffs, glaring at Prince Irus. "Your threats mean nothing to me, Cyrene bastard." The air thickens with tension and Prince Irus' hands curl into fists at his sides. It is Nerena who steps forward, pushing Prince Irus back with her palm. "That is enough," she spits. "Both of you are acting like children. And you, Your Highness. You cannot go around starting fights with our people. I assure you, my guards will not come to your defence in a fight against our own people." <<elseif $nerenaRel gt $irusRel>> Nerena rolls her eyes, stepping forward to stare directly at Zikar. Despite his bravado, Zikar averts his gaze and you remember just how terrifying Nerena can be. Tossing you a frown, Zikar mutters something under his breath, too low for you to hear. But Nerena seems to have heard it quite clearly, by the way that she grins widely at him. "Oh? Do repeat that," she taunts. "Go on, I dare you to insult my charges in front of me again. Do it and I will have an excuse to throw you into a cell for as long as I see fit." Zikar manages to look afraid, remaining silent as Nerena nods at him, satisfied that he will say no more. <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_65]]

As the tension eases, bleeding though the fog of tension, the elderly woman turns to you. Zikar yelps as she pries out of his hold, her bony fingers gripping at your wrists tightly. "Is it true?" she asks, breathless. "Is Salyra your mother?" "She is," you respond, chest tightening. "And your father, is it that General?" she asks. "Ahlf?" Memories of your father's death, of his life in Salt Bay come flooding back to you. It is a raw wound and you find yourself stumbling away from her. It must be true then. The Salyra that this woman speaks about is the Salyra that you knew as your mother. "He's dead," you say, voice strained. "Everyone is dead." "No," she breathes, horrified. "No. What about Salyra? What about my daughter?" You shake your head. "I don't know. She left me with Ahlf when I was still a child. I haven't seen her since then." Someone clears their throat and you turn to find that your group has managed to block the path leading to the bazaar. Nerena sighs, gesturing for the merchant to move past your group. "Perhaps we can do this somewhere less crowded," she suggests. "Yes," the elderly woman - //your grandmother?// - replies. "Come, our home is not far from here." [[Next.|chp2_66]]

<<set $location to "Ishari District, Aspal.">><div class="timeline">Ishari District, Aspal.</div> You sit on a rickety chair, across from your grandmother. In your daze, you numbly followed as she led the rest of your group through the bazaar, until you finally arrived at the home she has lived in for over two decades. Her name is Siduri, you learn, when Nerena asks and she lives in the Ishari district with her son, Belahm and his family. "$name." Sweat runs down your back. A tray rests on the small table between you and your grandmother. It holds clay bowls of rice, flatbread and what seems to be a brinjal dish, spiced and cooked into a thick curry. You haven't touched the rich tea, milky and sweet that has been placed into your hands. //"$name."// You look up, blinking when you see Prince Irus staring at you. He is sitting beside you, with Nerena and the two guards sitting taking most of the space near the entrance of the small home. "Don't fret," your grandmother says, more to Prince Irus than you. "This is a shock, for all of us." [[Next.|chp2_67]]

There are so many things you want to ask, to say, but you do not know how to broach the topic. How is it that Mama has a family in Vinia? Why have you never known them? The thoughts race through your mind, like fish wriggling in one of your father's fishing nets. <<linkreplace "You question your grandmother about your mother and her relationship with Ahlf." t8n>>"You knew about Mama- Salyra and my father?" you ask. Your grandmother nods, her milky eyes becoming distant. "I knew about their courting. It was unheard of, during those times. But your mother was always such a stubborn girl and when she told me that they would marry, I nearly killed her myself." There is a fondness in her voice, despite the pain in her gaze. She hastily wipes at her eyes, and gestures for you to continue. <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You question your grandmother about her family." t8n>>"You live here with your son?" you question. She smiles, her eyes filling with warmth. "Yes, your uncle Belahm. He works in the bazaar. Zikar's father brought me here, after your mother left with Ahlf." You swallow, finding it difficult to understand why your mother would leave her own family to be with your father, when all it brought was danger to the both of you. Your grandmother seems to notice your expression and offers you a soothing smile. "Do not blame Salyra," she says. "Your mother was headstrong and in love. She did what she thought would be right at the time."<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You ask your grandmother about her life here in Aspal." t8n>>You look around the small home, its walls white and the floors covered in simple rugs. The furniture is well-worn and chillis and herbs, hang from the rafters of the ceiling. "What have you been doing in Vinia?" you ask. "When the Blood Guard came to Ishari, we did not think that it would end in war," your grandmother sighs. "Before, when I was still a girl, Ishari was part of Cyre. We never knew war or destruction." Next to you, Prince Irus stiffens. His lips press together and his hands dig into the armrests of his chair. "The war came and Belahm bought us a place on a ferry taking people to Vinia," she explains. "We had to leave. Your mother... she refused. She would never abandon Ishari, she told me. When we arrived, we found our way to Aspal, with other refugees. It was hard, but we eventually saved enough to open a stall in the bazaar. That is where Belahm met Yara, your aunty."<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You ask your grandmother about whether she knew about you." t8n>>You swallow, glancing down at your fingers, before you speak. "Did you know about me?" you ask. Your grandmother's face crumples. "I... Salyra told us that she was with child but by then, it was already too dangerous. I begged your mother to come with us. It would have been a better life for you and for her, but your mother refused. She said that your father and she had a plan to stop the war altogether." You let out a shaky breath, feeling drained. Your grandmother notices and smiles at you. "It does not matter anymore, $name. You are here now. We are your family and that is all that matters."<</linkreplace>> [[End your questioning.|chp2_68]]

As your conversation ebbs, Zikar frowns, suddenly peering at Prince Irus with narrowed eyes. There is a look of hatred in his gaze, one that you are unaccustomed with seeing in people of Vinia, especially one directed at Prince Irus. "What's your deal then, hm?" Zikar demands. "Your father saw it fit to force us out of our land and here you are, parading around with an Ishari. Was killing us not enough? Now you need an Ishari as a servant?" "Zikar," your grandmother scolds. "That is no way to speak to guests." "He is one of them, Ama," Zikar retorts. "Who is to say that he isn't here to kill us too?" <<set $chp2_68 to 0>> [["That's not true," you protest. "Prince Irus is not like that. We both had to flee together."|chp2_69][$chp2_68 +=1, $irusRel +=1]] [["Prince Irus would never harm any of you," you breathe.|chp2_69][$chp2_68 +=2, $irusRel +=2]] [["It's not Prince Irus you have to worry about," you scoff. "The Blood Guard is the real threat."|chp2_69][$chp2_68 +=3]] [[You remain quiet, unable to bring yourself to defend Prince Irus.|chp2_69][$chp2_68 +=4, $irusRel -=1]]

<<if $chp2_68 is 1>> "That's not true," you protest. "Prince Irus is not like that. We both had to flee together." Zikar rolls his eyes. "So he is only using you for his own ends. Use your head, //cousin//, this Cyrene will chew you up and spit you out without a second thought if it furthers his own goals." "Your own bias is showing," Prince Irus mutters. "If I were simply using $name then I would have discarded $MChim as soon as I arrived at the palace. $name is right. I would never use $MChim or anyone else." Your grandmother frowns at Zikar. "Behave, Zikar. You do not know what they must have had to face together." <<elseif $chp2_68 is 2>> "Prince Irus would never harm any of you," you breathe. "Oh? So he would be fine harming the rest of the Ishari population?" Zikar scoffs. "Just like any other Cyrene bastard." "Zikar!" your grandmother yells. "That is enough." "No," Prince Irus sighs. "He is right to be wary. If I were in your place, I too would be afraid." "I am not afraid," Zikar mutters. Prince Irus frowns, shaking his head. "Trust me when I say that I do not care about your heritage. Whether you are Ishari or not, it doesn't change my mind. I will not harm you or anyone else." "See," your grandmother hisses, glancing at Zikar. "You must stop this anger, Zikar. It will get you nowhere." <<elseif $chp2_68 is 3>> "It's not Prince Irus you have to worry about," you scoff. "The Blood Guard is the real threat." Zikar sneers at your words, his glare fixed on Prince Irus. "And who do you think will command the Blood Guard if you put your precious prince on the throne?" Prince Irus lets out a sharp breath. "I do not like the Blood Guard as much as you. They tried to kill me, Ishari or not." "It means nothing to me, whether they kill you or not," Zikar spits. "In fact, perhaps they should have killed you and saved us all the trouble." "Zikar," your grandmother hisses. "Enough. You apologise right now. Your Adda did not raise you to be this rude." "He did not raise me to be a coward either," Zikar mutters. Your grandmother looks at Prince Irus, her eyes apologetic. "Forgive Zikar. Sometimes his emotions get the better of him." <<elseif $chp2_68 is 4>> You remain quiet, unable to bring yourself to defend Prince Irus. Zikar notices your silence and his grin widens, a cruel look in his eyes as he turns to face Prince Irus. "So you //are// here to kill us," Zikar mocks. "We've invited a viper into our home, Ama." "Zikar," your grandmother hisses, pinching his arm. "Enough." Prince Irus glances at you, his expression unreadable, before he speaks. "I do not intend on hurting anyone," Prince Irus says. "I only wish to take back what is rightfully mine." "A crown built on the bloodshed of our people?" Zikar scoffs. "No," Prince Irus protests. "That is the last thing I want. For any of you, Ishari or not." "See, Zikar?" your grandmother chides. "He is a good man." <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_70]]

Zikar turns away then, grumbling under his breath. Your grandmother glances at you, before her attention shifts onto Prince Irus. There is no hatred in her gaze, nothing like Zikar's when she looks at the Prince. "It is good that you travelled together," she murmurs. Her eyes find yours. "Thank you for bringing $name to us." Prince Irus looks away, slightly abashed as he rubs the back of his neck. "It really wasn't my doing." "Nonsense," your grandmother chides. "You helped $name and for that I am grateful to you. I did not think that I would meet Salyra's $heir in my lifetime." Zikar rolls his eyes at this, turning to face you with a pointed look. "$name," he calls. "Come, let us talk." You do not get a chance to reply, as your grandmother nods with a wide grin. "Yes, go. Get to know your cousin. And bring back some sweetmeats from Aunty Reema." Zikar stands, gesturing for you to follow. At this, Nerena nods at one of her guards, and you soon find yourself ushered out of the door, following Zikar with a guard at your heels. [[Next.|chp2_71]]

Outside, the air is warmer now than it had been in the morning. It is a little after midday and the streets around you are quiet. Homes, some tall and others squat, sit neatly along the street. Someone laughs in the distance and you notice a group of children playing nearby. "So," Zikar says, glancing at you. "You're travelling with the Prince then?" You look at Zikar. He is<<if $height is "tall">> shorter than you, but not by much.<<elseif $height is "average">> around the same height as you, making it easy to meet his gaze.<<elseif $height is "short">> taller than you, with your head only coming up to his chin.<</if>> Nodding, you follow him as he leads you away from the house where Prince Irus waits. "How can you trust him?" Zikar asks. "What if he kills you?" <<set $chp2_71 to 0>> [["I trust him because we're a team," you answer.|chp2_72][$chp2_71 +=1]] [["If he wanted to kill me, he had many chances to do so and he didn't," you retort.|chp2_72][$chp2_71 +=2]] [["He would never kill me," you protest.|chp2_72][$chp2_71 +=3]] [["I'd rather take my chances with Prince Irus than the Blood Guard," you reply.|chp2_72][$chp2_71 +=4]]

<<if $chp2_71 is 1>> "I trust him because we're a team," you answer. "A team?" Zikar scoffs. "You're no team. You're his servant at best, $name." You frown at this man, your //cousin// who you know so very little about and who knows nearly nothing about you in return. "You do not know anything about him," you reply. "Or me. Until you do, I would suggest that you keep your opinions to yourself." Zikar's dark eyes meet yours and he shrugs. "Fine. I'll keep my mouth shut." <<elseif $chp2_71 is 2>> "If he wanted to kill me, he had many chances to do so and he didn't," you retort. "Maybe he wants to make your execution public," Zikar suggests. "After all, his father is the reason why-" "Prince Irus is not his father," you mutter. "And why do you keep bringing it up?" "Because I do not trust him," Zikar hisses. "I do not understand how you can." <<elseif $chp2_71 is 3>> "He would never kill me," you protest. "You do not know that for certain, $name," Zikar scoffs. "You've only known him for what? A week?" You frown, glaring up at Zikar. "And I've only known you for a few hours. If we're using your reasoning then perhaps I should distrust you more than Prince Irus." "It's different with me," Zikar replies. "We're family. And that Prince is part of the man who killed our people." <<elseif $chp2_71 is 4>> "I'd rather take my chances with Prince Irus than the Blood Guard," you reply. "What if he turns against you?" Zikar asks. "You cannot trust a man like the Prince." You snort in irritation. Zikar does not know what it is like to flee from the Blood Guard, with no one but an exiled prince as a companion. He did not see the horrors that you did. "I trust him more than the Blood Guard," you mutter. <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_73]]

Zikar sighs, leading you towards a small house. The door is open and a middle-aged woman comes to greet Zikar with a warm smile. "Zikar, it's good to see you," she calls. Her eyes shift towards you. "Oh? Who is this? Your Ama told me that you weren't interested in my Etti. Is it because of this young $gender?" Zikar makes a face. "No, Aunty Reema. This is my //cousin//, $name." "Cousin eh?" Aunty Reema asks, eyeing you. "Tell me, $name. Are you looking to marry? My Etti is a little older than most girls her age but-" "We're here for the sweetmeats that Ama asked for," Zikar interrupts. "We have guests waiting at home." Aunty Reema glances at the Vinian Guard who tries his best to blend in to the background, but fails as his armour glints under the sunlight. "I see," Aunty Reema answers. She hurries inside and returns carrying a tray, covered in a white cloth. "Here, take this back to your Ama. And $name, if you are interested in Etti-" "Sorry, Aunty Reema," Zikar interjects, but there is nothing apologetic about his tone. "We really must go." He grabs your arm, half-dragging you away from Aunty Reema who waves goodbye. [[Next.|chp2_74]]

"Who is Etti?" you ask, as soon as you have lost sight of Aunty Reema. Zikar groans, rubbing a hand over his face. "Aunty Reema's eldest daughter. Her younger siblings are all married and Aunty Reema has been trying to set her up with me for the past month." You find your lips quirking into a smile. "And what's wrong with Etti?" "Nothing is wrong with Etti," Zikar mumbles. "But she is like an older sister to me." He pauses, fixing you with a stare. "And don't get any ideas about marrying her either." "I am not interested in Etti," you reply. Zikar glances at you, raising an eyebrow. "Oh? And who are you interested in then?" [["No one," you reply, though your mind drifts to Prince Irus.|chp2_75][$irusRom +=10]] [["Prince Irus," you answer, grinning.|chp2_75][$irusRom +=10]] [["That's none of your concern," you retort, even though you think about Sir Oren.|chp2_75][$orenRom +=10]] [["A handsome Captain named Sir Oren," you reply, feeling a thrill of excitement run through you.|chp2_75][$orenRom +=10]] [["I cannot say that I am interested in anyone," you answer, even as your thoughts drift to Queen Elora.|chp2_75][$eloraRom +=10]] [["A noble woman who also happens to be Queen Elora," you respond, smiling.|chp2_75][$eloraRom +=10]] [["I am not interested in anyone at the moment," you answer honestly.|chp2_75]]

Before Zikar can reply, the front of your grandmother's home comes into view. Nerena stands outside, with Prince Irus being fussed about by your grandmother. He stands up straighter when he notices your and Zikar's approach. "I am sorry, but we must return to the palace," Nerena explains as your expression. "I do have other duties to attend to and despite what the Captain said, we do not have all day to spend visiting all of Aspal." "We can always come back, $name," Prince Irus says, glancing at you. "Yes," your grandmother interjects. "You are all welcome back." She pats Prince Irus' shoulder. "Especially this one. Such a sweet boy, he ate all of my food." Prince Irus shoots your grandmother a charming grin and if you didn't know any better, you would think that the elderly woman blushed. Turning to Zikar, she grabs the tray of sweetmeats and offers it to Prince Irus. "Here, take some for your travels back to the palace," she urges. "And make sure to take care of $name." "I will," Prince Irus agrees. [[Next.|chp2_76]]

Your grandmother's smile softens as she looks at you. "Come here, $name." Stepping towards the shorter woman, you let out a gasp when she draws you into a hug with surprising strength. She smells like cloves and something that reminds you of the sweetmeats on the tray. Her eyes peer up at you, warm and tearful. "Come back to us soon," she whispers. "And here, take this." You look down, as your grandmother presses a hard, bronze idol into your hand. Gazing at it, you're reminded of the idols that the merchant in Salt Bay had been selling all those years ago. "Mother Ehulla will protect you," she murmurs. "It was your mother's. Keep it with you, $name. She will never lead you astray." Regardless of your beliefs, it is hard to disagree with your grandmother. Instead, you offer her a nod and a smile before drawing away. [[Next.|chp2_77]]

As you follow Prince Irus and the rest of the guards, you turn to glance at your grandmother. She waves to you, a wide smile and next to her, Zikar offers you a smirk. It is strange to think that you have had family in Vinia all these years. You turn away, letting out a breath. Prince Irus walks besides you, his arms full with food that you're certain your grandmother sent for him. He grins at your stare. "Your grandmother's really nice," he explains. His voice becomes softer. "How are you feeling after everything?" <<set $chp2_77 to 0>> [["I do not know," you explain. "It is a lot to take in."|chp2_78][$chp2_77 +=1]] [["I feel overwhelmed, but I am also happy to have met my family," you answer.|chp2_78][$chp2_77 +=2]] [["I am happy," you respond, smiling. "I did not think that I would ever meet my mother's family."|chp2_78][$chp2_77 +=3]] [["I feel many things," you say. "I am happy to have met my mother's family but I am also sad that I missed out on so knowing them for so long."|chp2_78][$chp2_77 +=4]]

<<if $chp2_77 is 1>> "I do not know," you explain. "It is a lot to take in." Your mind is filled with a thousand thoughts. All this time, your family have been here in Vinia and you did not know. It is a lot to comprehend, especially over the few short hours that you have had to process everything that has happened. "I am sorry," Prince Irus replies, glancing at you. "I know that it must be a lot for you." You nod, letting out a breath as you return to the palace. <<elseif $chp2_77 is 2>> "I feel overwhelmed, but I am also happy to have met my family," you answer. It is a lot to take in, after only knowing your family for a few hours but at the same time, you feel an overwhelming sense of joy to know that you are not alone anymore. No matter what happens next, you know that there is a family you can return to. Prince Irus offers you a smile. "I am glad, $name." You return his smile, as you return to the palace. <<elseif $chp2_77 is 3>> "I am happy," you respond, smiling. "I did not think that I would ever meet my mother's family." A warmth of relief and excitement washes over you. It unfurls in your chest, a blossoming feeling that spread through the rest of your body. You are not alone. Your mother's family are in reach of you and no matter what happens, you know that they will always be there. "And I am happy for you too," Prince Irus answers. You smile up at him, as you return to the palace. <<elseif $chp2_77 is 4>> "I feel many things," you say. "I am happy to have met my mother's family but I am also sad that I missed out on so knowing them for so long." There is a constant flow of emotions that run through you. Grief, happiness, confusion; all because you have spent a life thinking that the only family you had were your parents. You cannot tell what you are feeling, only that you will need more than a few hours to process the complex emotions. "It is a lot to take in," Prince Irus agrees, offering you a soft look. You nod, letting out a breath, as you return to the palace. <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_79]]

As the palace comes into view, you take a moment to reflect on everything that has happened. Whether it was fate or pure coincidence that brought you to Vinia, you have now discovered a family that you never knew existed. You eye Prince Irus, knowing that whatever happens next, both of your lives will forever change after today. [[Next.|chp3]]

<div class="back"><<link "Return" $return>><</link>></div> <center><span style="color: goldenrod;">Thank you to my wonderful beta testers who have been incredibly great at helping me fix any bugs and errors in the game.</span></center> <center><span style="color: goldenrod;">Drakona, theflawlaceone, Spectralight, puddleduck, marzelyy, Franky, Mikochan, MeowPurr, Happy Succubus, Jaune, Fim, laundromak, waltzofthedragons, 𝕷𝖚𝖒𝖎𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖍, BabyQueen, rox and QueenA.</span></center>

<<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "chp3" loop play>> <div class="heading">Chapter Three</div><div class="borderstyle">p</div> <div class="timeline">Age of Aedes, Year 544, Spring</div> <center>[[Begin.|chp3_start]]</center> <center><<linkreplace "Trigger warnings." t8n>>Alcohol, violence, gambling, vulgar language.<</linkreplace>></center>

<div class="timeline">The Great Palace of Aspal</div> <<set $location to "The Great Palace of Aspal, Vinia.">> It has been a week since your arrival at the palace. Much of your time has been spent resting in the guest wing of the palace. In the absence of fear, exhaustion has seeped into your bones. It has been a long few weeks of your life and you are grateful for the moment of respite. The palace, you soon discover, is far larger than it appeared from its exterior. There are many rooms, some empty, others filled with sculptures and portraits and those that the palace guards keep you from entering. Still, life in the palace is not a difficult one. There is always a meal waiting for you at sunrise and fresh clothes placed in the wardrobes of your chamber. <<set $chp3_start to 0>> [[You enjoy being a guest in the palace.|chp3_1][$chp3_start +=1]] [[While the luxury is a little much, you still enjoy the amenities that are provided to you.|chp3_1][$chp3_start +=2]] [[The opulence is something you could get used to.|chp3_1][$chp3_start +=3]] [[You feel guilty to enjoy such extravagance when many others cannot.|chp3_1][$chp3_start +=4]] [[The wasteful extravagance repulses you.|chp3_1][$chp3_start +=5]]

<<if $chp3_start is 1>> You enjoy being a guest in the palace. It has been a restful time for you, one where you do not have to worry about being caught or where you will be sleeping for the night. The attendants treat you well, despite your lack in status and seem eager to assist you. <<elseif $chp3_start is 2>> While the luxury is a little much, you still enjoy the amenities that are provided to you. It is an odd contrast to your previous life, one where you had lived on meagre supplies and were expected to work hard. Though it is strange, you have come to enjoy the luxuries that have been offered to you in the palace. <<elseif $chp3_start is 3>> The opulence is something you could get used to. You wonder if all nobility live like this and if it is, you realise why they would want to keep it to themselves. Though your life was once hard, being in the palace has taught you that it does not need to be. Being waited on by the attendants is far better than having to do things for yourself. <<elseif $chp3_start is 4>> You feel guilty to enjoy such extravagance when many others cannot. It is wrong to be treated this way, when you know that others are not so fortunate. Many struggle to feed their families and having attendants seems almost wasteful when you are more than capable of attending to yourself. A sliver of remorse worms its way into your gut, knowing that you are enjoying the advantages of being associated with an exiled prince. <<elseif $chp3_start is 5>> The wasteful extravagance repulses you. Much of the palace seems to be unused. There are many attendants and servants, though you do not understand why. Apart from the odd palace staff, you have encountered no one else but Prince Irus and Queen Elora during your stay in the palace. It seems as if the wealth on display could be better used elsewhere, though perhaps the nobility will always find ways to boast about what others can never hope to gain. <</if>> Your musing is interrupted by the arrival of Prince Irus. In the week that has passed, he has taken to the warmer climate and Vinian fashion. Today, he wears a loose tunic in a mustard gold and pants that emphasise the muscles in his legs. His hair, once unbrushed, now is smoothed away from his forehead. "$name," he greets, "have you eaten yet?" You glance at the empty bowls, resting on your table. Prince Irus nods, not waiting for your response as he gestures towards the door. "I think I know how to win over the councillors," he announces. "How will you do that?" you ask. Prince Irus grins. "Research. There's a whole bunch of books in the library about the different leaders. Maybe I can learn something from them in time for next week." You frown. A library? Perhaps you have not explored the palace as well as you thought you had. "Will you help me?" he asks. "I was never the best student and my tutors always complained that I never paid much attention to their lessons." <<set $chp3_activity to 0>><<set $skill_lead to false>><<set $skill_pol to false>><<set $skill_com to false>><<set $skill_counter to 0>> [[You agree to help Prince Irus research more about leadership.|chp3_2a][$chp3_activity +=1, $skill_lead to true, $skill_counter +=1]] [[You would prefer to join Queen Elora and learn more about politics.|chp3_2b][$chp3_activity +=2, $skill_pol to true, $skill_counter +=1]] [[You would rather improve on your weaponry and combat skills with Sir Oren.|chp3_2c][$chp3_activity +=3, $skill_com to true, $skill_counter +=1]]

"I'll help you," you agree. Prince Irus smiles widely at you, the corners of his eyes creasing as he does. As you examine his expression, you notice the relief in his gaze. Perhaps he was not exaggerating when he said that research did not form part of his skillset. Still, you have your own reasons for helping Prince Irus. <<set $chp3_2a to 0>> [[You want to spend more time with Prince Irus.|chp3_2a1][$chp3_2a +=1, $irusRel +=2]] [[You want to help Prince Irus succeed in his bid to win over the Vinian councillors.|chp3_2a1][$chp3_2a +=2, $irusRel +=2]] [[You are interested in learning more about leadership.|chp3_2a1][$chp3_2a +=3]] [[You are helping Prince Irus because your fate rests in how well he can persuade the councillors to support him.|chp3_2a1][$chp3_2a +=4]] [[You are interested in learning more about leadership, though you also want to spend more time with Prince Irus.|chp3_2a1][$chp3_2a +=5, $irusRel +=2]]

"Actually, I was hoping to learn more about politics with Queen Elora," you explain. <<if $irusRom gte 10>> A strange look passes through Prince Irus' face, one that you have become accustomed to whenever you mention someone else. You frown, wondering if he is hurt that you've rejected his offer in favour of doing something else or simply annoyed that you are not spending time with him.<<else>>A flicker of disappointment flashes through his blue eyes but the expression vanishes as fast as it had appeared.<</if>> "I see," Prince Irus replies. "I suppose I can handle reading some books on my own for the day." You offer him a smile. "It's only reading, Irus. How difficult can it be?" Prince Irus grins, though you notice the pained twist to his expression. "I... yes. You're right. It cannot be //that// bad." He leaves your chamber, before you can say anything in response, a look of worry on his face. The truth is, you decided to spend time with Queen Elora today because... <<set $chp3_2b to 0>> [[...you want to spend more time with Queen Elora.|chp3_2b_1][$chp3_2b +=1]] [[...though you enjoy spending time with Prince Irus, you also believe that learning about politics will help him in his quest to reclaim the throne.|chp3_2b_1][$chp3_2b +=2]] [[...you are interested in learning more about politics for yourself.|chp3_2b_1][$chp3_2b +=3]] [[...by learning about politics, you will be better equipped to handle what is to come.|chp3_2b_1][$chp3_2b +=4]] [[...you want to do something without Prince Irus for once.|chp3_2b_1][$chp3_2b +=5]]

"I cannot," you answer. "I was planning to train with Sir Oren." <<if $irusRom gte 10>> An odd look passes through Prince Irus' blue eyes, as he gazes at your face. You are uncertain of what to make of it, when he eventually turns away, breaking his stare.<<else>>A flicker of disappointment flashes through Prince Irus' eyes, but he lets out a breath and as he does, the look is gone.<</if>> "I suppose I cannot fault you for wanting to train more with Sir Oren, after the dangers we have faced," Prince Irus murmurs. "Perhaps I can handle reading a few books on my own for the day." You nod, offering Prince Irus a smile. "I am certain that you can." <<if $irusRom gte 10>> Prince Irus shoots you another strange look, before he turns and leaves your chamber.<<else>>Prince Irus returns your smile, before he turns and leaves your chamber.<</if>> As he disappears from view, you think about his words. You chose to train with Sir Oren today because... <<set $chp3_2c to 0>> [[...you want to be able to protect yourself from the dangers that lie ahead of you.|chp3_2c_1][$chp3_2c +=1]] [[...you want to be able to better protect both yourself and Prince Irus from the dangers that await you.|chp3_2c_1][$chp3_2c +=2]] [[...you want to spend more time with Sir Oren.|chp3_2c_1][$chp3_2c +=3]] [[...you want to better your combat skills, but you are also eager to spend more time with Sir Oren.|chp3_2c_1][$chp3_2c +=4]] [[...you wanted to do something on your own, with Prince Irus for once.|chp3_2c_1][$chp3_2c +=5]]

<<if $chp3_2a is 1>> You want to spend more time with Prince Irus. Perhaps it is selfish of you to want to spend even more time with Prince Irus, though you cannot deny that you have come to enjoy his companionship. His presence is one that you have come to anticipate and even //rely// on. <<elseif $chp3_2a is 2>> You want to help Prince Irus succeed in his bid to win over the Vinian councillors. After visiting the city of Aspal, Prince Irus returned to the palace with a determined glint in his eyes. It was a strange sight, but one that you found yourself in support of. You will ensure that Prince Irus succeeds in reclaiming his throne, even if it means helping him research leadership in the library. <<elseif $chp3_2a is 3>> You are interested in learning more about leadership. Your life in Salt Bay was not one where you could practise your leadership skills, though you doubt that even if you tried, it would have been welcomed by those around you. Perhaps now that you are in Vinia, you can finally begin to improve on your own skills, without the accompanying judgment. <<elseif $chp3_2a is 4>> You are helping Prince Irus because your fate rests in how well he can persuade the councillors to support him. It is a difficult thing to know that your life is so entangled with the result of Prince Irus' ability to garner support. If he fails, you do not doubt that Queen Elora will no longer allow for your stay in the palace, not when the Blood Guard eventually come to take Prince Irus back. <<elseif $chp3_2a is 5>> You are interested in learning more about leadership, though you also want to spend more time with Prince Irus. Leadership has always interested you, though you do not mind that helping Prince Irus in the library would also mean that you get to spend more time with him. His companionship has been one of the only good things to have come out of fleeing from the Blood Guard and it is one that you enjoy greatly. <</if>> "Thank you, $name," Prince Irus replies. "I think that at least if I have someone else with me then I'll be less likely to fall asleep." You pause, frowing. "Did you say fall asleep?" Prince Irus waves away your words, a little too nonchalant about his admission. "It will be fine," he exclaims. "Trust me." [[Next.|chp3_2a2]]

It is not, in fact, //fine//. Prince Irus was not exaggerating when he told you that he was not the best student. Tomes, thick and too heavy to carry on your own, lie strewn across the large tables. Half are open and the others are currently being used as a pillow for Prince Irus' head. He yawns, watching as you page through the list of recommendations the palace librarian handed you upon your arrival. "Do you ever think that scribes fall asleep when recording notes?" he asks. You run your finger down the list, pausing as you scan the shelves for another tome. When you do not reply, Prince Irus frowns. "$name," he calls. "It's an important question." You sigh, "No, I do not think they fall asleep." "Can I tell you something?" he asks, half-mumbling. You nod in assent, but your attention remains on the shelves. "I don't think that any of this will help," Prince Irus breathes. You glance at him, noticing the furrow in his eyebrows. "I know it seems like a lot to go through but I-" "No," he interrupts. He sits up, lifting his head from where it rested on the stack of books. "I'm no leader, $name. How can I be? I know nothing about ruling a kingdom, let alone being a king." You turn to face Prince Irus fully, taking in the vulnerable look in his eyes. He runs his hands through his hair, tangling the strands in his fingers. Insecurity flickers through his gaze and he sighs shakily. <<set $chp3_2a2 to 0>> [["That's not true," you reassure him. "You will be a good leader and a good king. I know it."|chp3_2a3][$chp3_2a2 +=1]] [[♡You reach out, cupping his face in your palm. "You will be a good leader," you breathe. "Trust me."|chp3_2a3][$chp3_2a2 +=2, $irusRom +=5]] [[♡"I know that you are a good leader," you murmur, gazing up at him softly.|chp3_2a3][$chp3_2a2 +=3, $irusRom +=5]] [["Even if you do not know much about leadership, you still have time to learn," you reply.|chp3_2a3][$chp3_2a2 +=4]] [["Stop sulking," you mutter. "Good leaders have to work to earn the loyalty of others."|chp3_2a3][$chp3_2a2 +=5]]

<<set $library_list to true>><<if $chp3_2a2 is 1>> "That's not true," you reassure him. "You will be a good leader and a good king. I know it." Prince Irus stares at you, hope warring with the conflicting self-doubt in his face. You watch him, an exiled prince who knows nothing about ruling a kingdom and yet, who is nothing at all like what you imagined him to be. You move to sit down beside Prince Irus and offer him a smile, hoping to assuage his fears. "How can you be so certain?" Prince Irus asks. "How can you know that I will be a good king?" "No one can be certain of the future, Irus," you answer. "But I know that you are not like your uncle and that you do not harbour any ill-feelings towards Ishari. You will be a good king, even if you do not know it yet." Prince Irus smiles, a weak thing, but it is enough to ease the tension in his face. "Thank you, $name." <<elseif $chp3_2a2 is 2>> You reach out, cupping his face in your palm. "You will be a good leader, you breathe. "Trust me." Prince Irus stiffens under your touch. You smooth your fingers over the light stubble along his chin, growing out in places where he had not shaved. It might be forward of you, to touch him like this, when the palace librarian might see and attendants might whisper, but you do not care. A second passes and Prince Irus lets out a deep sigh, leaning his face into your palm. With his left hand, he reaches out, gripping your hand, holding it in place against his skin. "I fear that you might be the only one who thinks that, $name," he replies. A flicker of delight flashes through his blue eyes. "I fear that you are biased." "Perhaps I am biased," you murmur, stroking his cheek. "But I also do not lie. You will make a good king, Irus." Prince Irus smiles, his eyes raking over your features before he speaks. "Well, I suppose that I cannot disappoint you now, can I?" He draws away from your touch, not before pressing his lips to your fingers. It sends a thrill of excitement down your spine, but Prince Irus has already moved away before you can pull him back to you. <<elseif $chp3_2a2 is 3>> "I know that you are a good leader," you murmur, gazing up at him softly. Prince Irus meets your gaze, his eyes shifting from the earnestness in your expression to the softness in your eyes. He smiles, a warm thing that causes your stomach to lurch at the sight. Knowing that it is you who has made him smile is enough to send your heart racing. You lean closer, without realising it and when you do, you notice the way Prince Irus' smile shifts into a familiar smirk. "Do I look so pitiful that you mean to comfort me?" he asks. "What?" you ask. "No. I mean yes. Wait, that's not what I meant." Prince Irus drags his chair, shifting closer to where you are. This close, you become aware of the heat that he exudes. It is enough to bring a flush to your cheeks and you suddenly feel faint. You stare down at your hands, to the list on the table and then the tomes. It is hard to breathe, //to think//, when Prince Irus is this close. "It is alright, $name," Prince Irus responds. "Alas, it seems that you will forever comfort me. Come, hold me to your chest and let us hope that I will be a better leader one day." The thought of Prince Irus pressed up against your chest is enough to send you reeling with thoughts that are not at all appropriate. Your cheeks are aflame with embarrassment and you cannot bear to meet Prince Irus' eyes. "There is no need to run away," Prince Irus chuckles. The sincerity in his voice causes you to look up at him. "Thank you for having faith in me, $name." <<elseif $chp3_2a2 is 4>> "Even if you do not know much about leadership, you still have time to learn," you reply. Prince Irus stares at you, before he examines the books spread out around the both of you. A deep sigh escapes his lips and when he turns to look at you, there is a thoughtful look in his eyes. "I suppose you are right, $name," he murmurs. "There is still time to learn." You nod in response, glancing at him. "And even if you do not find your answers on leadership in these books, perhaps you can speak to Queen Elora for some advice." The doubt in Prince Irus' face eases and he manages a slight smile. "Right. I'll keep that in mind. Thank you $name." <<elseif $chp3_2a2 is 5>> "Stop sulking," you mutter. "Good leaders have to work to earn the loyalty of others." Prince Irus visibly tenses at your tone, casting you a sharp look. His doubt seems to have worsened upon hearing your rebuke, but you are too tired to coddle the Prince. If he wants to be a good king then he will need to learn to act like one, instead of complaining about it to whoever will listen. "I am not sulking," he huffs. "I am merely confiding in you about my greatest fears." "Instead of confiding in me, you could be reading some of these books," you retort. "Why did you even ask for my help if you're just going to lounge about all day?" Prince Irus grumbles, muttering too loaw for you to hear, but by the bitterness in his tone, you suspect it is nothing flattering. "What was that?" you demand. "I said that you're worse than my tutors," Prince Irus grouches. He turns away then, eyes hard and lips pulled into a frown. <</if>> [[Next.|chp3_2a4]]

<<if $library_list is true>> With Prince Irus no longer falling asleep, you gather the last of the books jotted down on the list from the librarian. You stare at the table, leaden with tomes that will probably take you far longer than a few months to get through. Deciding to only go through the thinner, far less verbose books, you manage to pull out three for Prince Irus. <<elseif $library_list is false>> With Prince Irus no longer asleep, you spot a piece of paper, with a list of titles of books. "That's a list of books the librarian recommended," Prince Irus explains. "I tried reading a few, but they were better at putting me to sleep." You nod, glancing at the thick tomes. Standing, you search through the books before you settle on three, thinner books that you are certain will not take all day to read.<</if>> <<set $chp3_tome to 0>><<set $chp3_val to false>><<set $chp3_tir to false>><<set $chp3_rab to false>> [[Read about Queen Valeria, the warrior queen of Vinia.|chp3_2a5a][$chp3_tome +=1, $chp3_val to true]] [[Read about King Tirigan, the first king of Cyre, known for his diplomacy.|chp3_2a5b][$chp3_tome +=2, $chp3_tir to true]] [[Read about Sovereign Rabiah, who unified the Southern Islands under her leadership.|chp3_2a5c][$chp3_tome +=3, $chp3_rab to true]]

You pull out a leather-bound book, the cover embossed in gold lettering. Peeling open the cover, a musty smell fills your nose and you run your fingers over the yellowing pages. It is undoubtedly old and by the way the pages stick together, far less read than the other books. "Who's Queen Valeria?" you ask, glancing towards Prince Irus. Prince Irus sits up straighter, peering over at the opened book in your hands. Appearing more interested than he has since you first arrived at the palace library, Prince Irus takes the book from you and flips through the pages. "Queen Valeria is Ellie's grandmother," he explains. "She used to rule before King Ishtar." "Did you know her?" you ask. Prince Irus shakes his head. "No. When I started coming to Vinia, King Ishtar had already been ruling for quite some time." "It says that she was known for being a warrior," you murmur. "She defended Vinia against the threats of... I can't quite make out what it says." "Threats from the Nomad Tribes," Prince Irus answers. "They settle wherever they want, claiming that the land belongs to everyone, regardless of kingdom borders. Queen Valeria fought them off when they tried to settle in Vinia, banishing them from the kingdom entirely." You nod in thought, glancing at the other books. <<if $chp3_tir is false>> [[Read about King Tirigan, the first king of Cyre, known for his diplomacy.|chp3_2a5b][$chp3_tome +=2, $chp3_tir to true]] <</if>><<if $chp3_rab is false>> [[Read about Sovereign Rabiah, who unified the Southern Islands under her leadership.|chp3_2a5c][$chp3_tome +=3, $chp3_rab to true]] <</if>><<if $chp3_rab is true and $chp3_tir is true>> [[Next.|chp3_2a6]]<</if>>

You reach out for one of the larger books, bound with string and a dark cover. There are strange interlocking patterns along the spine of the book and tracing your finger over it, you feel the ridges of embroidery under your skin. "A book on King Tirigan?" Prince asks, gesturing towards the book. You nod, frowning as you leaf through the pages. What becomes apparent very quickly is the repitition of Ishari, blood and the Ancient Ones. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. As long as you have lived, you have never known of any ruler of Cyre to have any Ishari blood. "King Tirigan was from Ishari?" you question. Prince Irus nods, his lips pursing slightly. "My father had the book destroyed. Any records of King Tirigan was erased by his order. Still, I read that book once when I stayed in Vinia." "Who was he?" you ask. "He's supposedly the first recorded ruler of Cyre. Back then, Ishari was still part of the kingdom so it was not uncommon for an Ishari born person to sit on the throne. As the story goes, King Tirigan led the kingdom through diplomacy and peace," Prince Irus explains. You nod, glancing back at the gathered books. <<if $chp3_val is false>> [[Read about Queen Valeria, the warrior queen of Vinia.|chp3_2a5a][$chp3_tome +=1, $chp3_val to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp3_rab is false>> [[Read about Sovereign Rabiah, who unified the Southern Islands under her leadership.|chp3_2a5c][$chp3_tome +=3, $chp3_rab to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp3_val is true and $chp3_rab is true>> [[Next.|chp3_2a6]]<</if>>

You inspect a blue covered book, the cover depicting a series of ships, enclosed in a sun. Reading the delicate print of the title, tells you that this book is about Sovereign Rabiah, the leader who united the Southern Islands. Prince Irus catches sight of the book and peers at the cover. "The Southern Islands is where Ellie's mother comes from," he explains. "It's a series of small islands that were once joined, but after years of flooding, the islands separated from each other and waged war against each other." "Why?" you ask. Prince Irus shrugs. "Why does anyone go to war? For power most likely. And probably control." "And Sovereign Rabiah united the them?" you question. "So I've heard," Prince Irus answers, looking sheepish. "To be honest, I didn't pay much attention to the Southern Islands during my lessons." You nod in thought as you glance at the gathered books once more. <<if $chp3_val is false>> [[Read about Queen Valeria, the warrior queen of Vinia.|chp3_2a5a][$chp3_tome +=1, $chp3_val to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp3_tir is false>> [[Read about King Tirigan, the first king of Cyre, known for his diplomacy.|chp3_2a5b][$chp3_tome +=2, $chp3_tir to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp3_tir is true and $chp3_val is true>> [[Next.|chp3_2a6]]<</if>>

With a vague idea of who each leader was, you look at Prince Irus. There is not enough time in the day to go through each book, but perhaps you can settle on one for now. "Which leader do you want to read about?" you ask. Prince Irus sighs, glancing at the three. "I'm not certain. I suppose they each have their own merit. What do you think?" You glance at the books again, thinking about what you know about each ruler. Queen Valeria seemed to lead through combat, while King Tirigan preferred diplomacy to bloodshed. Then, there is the book about Sovereign Rabiah, who used her leadership to unite the fractured islands. [["You should read more about Queen Valeria," you reply. "If you're going to go up against your uncle then you'll need to be able to defend yourself against the Blood Guard."|chp3_2a6a][$irus_lead_style +=10, $codeValeria to true, $codeNomad to true]] [["I think that we should read more about King Tirigan," you explain. "Diplomacy might be the skill you need to stop the war against Ishari and reclaim your throne."|chp3_2a6b][$irus_lead_style -=10, $codeTirigan to true]] [["Perhaps it would be best to read about Sovereign Rabiah," you answer. "It seems that her leadership united a divided nation, something that you might need to do when you reclaim your throne."|chp3_2a6c][$codeRabiah to true, $codeSouthernIsland to true]]

<<notify>>New Codex Entry<</notify>> "You should read more about Queen Valeria," you reply. "If you're going to go up against your uncle then you'll need to be able to defend yourself against the Blood Guard." Prince Irus frowns at the mention of Virion and the Blood Guard. But after everything that has happened, it would be foolish to think that he can reclaim his throne without going to battle against his uncle. "You're right," Prince Irus sighs. He rubs his forehead. "I wish you weren't, but I suppose going to battle is inevitable." His words ring with a note of hollowness. By the way Prince Irus stares at the book on Queen Valeria, it is clear that he is not looking forward to the eventual meeting with Virion. [[Next.|chp3_2a6a_1]]

<<notify>>New Codex Entry<</notify>> "I think that we should read more about King Tirigan," you explain. "Diplomacy might be the skill you need to stop the war against Ishari and reclaim your throne." Even though King Erlan destroyed records of King Tirigan, the notion that a kingdom can be led through diplomacy instead of war is one that appeals greatly to you. Prince Irus nods in thought as he leafs through the book on King Tirigan. "Perhaps peace is the better approach to use," Prince Irus murmurs. "Though if my father could see me now, reading about an Ishari King, he'd probably rant about how the books are wrong and this is just some nonsense that the Ishari have been lying about." You hesitate, before speaking. "You aren't a little wary about reading about an Ishari King?" Prince Irus shrugs and says, "I told you, $name. I don't care if a person is from Ishari or not. My father's ideas aren't mine." You nod, refraining from saying more. Instead, you focus your attention on King Tirigan, the first recorded king of Cyre. [[Next.|chp3_2a6b_1]]

<<notify>>New Codex Entry<</notify>> "Perhaps it would be best to read about Sovereign Rabiah," you answer. "It seems that her leadership united a divided nation, something that you might need to do when you reclaim your throne." Neither of you have spoken about what Prince Irus plans on doing once he reclaims his throne. Perhaps, when you have garnered the support of Queen Elora and her councillors, then you will be able to bring up the subject with Prince Irus. "You are right," Prince Irus replies. "It would help to at least know more about how she managed such a feat." Perhaps the leadership style of Sovereign Rabiah will prove to be the thing that helps Prince Irus unite Cyre and Ishari, as they were in the past. [[Next.|chp3_2a6c_1]]

Reading through the book with Prince Irus, you discover that it has been written more in the sense a biography has been, albeit the author is biased towards praising Queen Valeria's reign. <<linkreplace "Read about Queen Valeria's rise to power." t8n>>Prince Irus flips through a page, detailing Queen Valeria's rise to power in Vinia. "She was born to a minor noble family," Prince Irus reads. "Her father was the King's cousin and when the King died without an heir, her father took control of the throne." "How did Valeria become a warrior queen?" you ask, squinting at the fine writing. Prince Irus frowns at the page. "She trained as a soldier before she was forced to take over the throne when her father was wounded by the Nomad Tribes during a skirmish out the outer walls of the kingdom."<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Learn about the Nomad Tribes." t8n>>"Who were the Nomad Tribes exactly?" you ask. Prince Irus leafs through the book, frowning before he settles on a chapter dedicated to the Nomadic Tribes. "They're a group of tribes that travel around, relocating and settling according to the seasons and their needs," Prince Irus replies. "They wanted to settle here, in Vinia, claiming that their deities guided them to the area." "You said something about their beliefs that the land does not belong to any one kingdom," you say. Prince Irus nods, tapping the page. "According to this book, the Nomad Tribes believe that the world cannot be owned by anyone, as it was created for everyone to share."<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Read about Queen Valeria's defensive strategies against the Nomad Tribes." t8n>>"How did Queen Valeria manage to defeat the Nomad Tribes?" you ask. A furrow draws Prince Irus' eyebrows together as he scans the book. When he does not speak, you peer over at the page. "What is it?" you ask. "It says here that Queen Valeria defeated the Nomad Tribes by killing most of the tribespeople. Those who survived, fled from Vinia and no one has seen them since." "Do you think they still exist?" you ask. Prince Irus shrugs. "I cannot be certain. The book doesn't say more and I didn't learn much about them in Cyre."<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Read about Queen Valeria's eventual death." t8n>>Prince Irus flips through the rest of the book, most of which explain the different exploits and trade deals that Queen Valeria managed to secure with neighbouring kingdoms. Eventually, he stops on a chapter dealing with her death. "Queen Valeria died at the age of sixty two," he reads. "Her son, King Ishtar had taken the throne five years earlier, when Queen Valeria's health had deterioated greatly. After her death, the Kingdom of Vinia mourned for three months." "That's a long time," you remark. "She was seen as a heroine by most of the kingdom," Prince Irus explains. "Everyone wants to mourn a beloved leader." You think about King Erlan and the way people in Salt Bay mourned his death. It seems that people will mourn a leader, regardless of how beloved they might be. You keep that thought to yourself, uncertain of how to broach the topic of King Erlan to his exiled son.<</linkreplace>> [[Finish reading about Queen Valeria.|chp3_2a_7][$leadership +=10]]

Prince Irus begins to stand, stretching his arms above his head. Despite the poor start to learning about the different leaders, he now has a determined glint in his eyes. Perhaps now, he will be able to convince Queen Elora's councillors in supporting him in his bid to reclaim the throne to Cyre. You stand as well, realising that you have spent a few hours hunched over books with Prince Irus. He glances at you and smiles, the earlier despair of whether he would be a good leader or not, now gone. "Thank you for helping today, $name," he says. "I already feel better about meeting Ellie's councillors next week." A yawn escapes his lips and a sheepish grin finds his way onto his lips. "I think a rest is in order after all of this reading," Prince Irus explains. He smiles at you again. "Thank you $name, truly." He turns away before you can respond, leaving the library in favour of resting. You let out a breath, slightly amused and still going over his gratitude in the back of your mind. [[Next.|chp3_2_central]]

Reading about King Tirigan proves to be a test in your comprehension skills. The language used is either outdated or written in a language you cannot decipher. Most of the pages have small, scrawling words as if one of the readers tried translating the text before giving up. Still, the translation proves to be beneficial, especially regarding the more important aspects of King Tirigan's life. <<linkreplace "Read about the birth of King Tirigan." t8n>>You read over the page, frowning when your eyes catch on the date of King Tirigan's birth. "It says that he was born in the Age of Osyn," you murmur. "He was born in the year of 2399 and he died..." Prince Irus looks up at you, frowning. "What is it?" You frown in confusion. "It says that he died in the year 3000, the final year in the Age of Osyn. But that doesn't make sense. It would mean that Tirigan lived for at least six hundred years." A deep look of confusion finds its way into Prince Irus' eyes and he shakes his head in disbelief. "Perhaps it is an error? Or maybe there were more kings named after him, so it seemed as if he lived for that long?" You nod, though the thought of anyone living for that long still perplexes you.<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You turn the page to a section on King Tirigan's reign." t8n>>As you leaf through the book, you find a chapter that has been translated by the same reader who managed to decipher the unknown language. "King Tirigan's reign expanded throughout the nation of Ishari," you read. "It is said that he founded its main city in honour of the Ancient Ones, where he carved a home from the sands for those who sought peace." "It sounds more like a myth than an actual account of what happened," Prince Irus replies. "Maybe the writer is being poetic?" you offer. "Still, it's nice to know that anyone was welcome in the city."<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Read about King Tirigan's influence on the kingdom." t8n>>"Does it say anything about his leadership?" Prince Irus asks. You scan the pages, before settling on a loosely translated chapter about King Tirigan's role as a king. "According to the translation, King Tirigan won many wars through negotiation and treaties of peace," you reply. "There was never bloodshed, despite the other nations pushing for wars to control Cyre. And then it says something about his devotion to the Ancient Ones was what protected the kingdom from the ills of the world." Prince Irus scoffs, rolling his eyes. It seems as if his distaste for the gods has not endeared King Tirigan to him.<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Learn about King Tirigan's death." t8n>>"Right, we know that he was peaceful and preferred diplomacy to war. But what else does it say?" Prince Irus questions. You squint at the nearly illegible writing, before managing to make out the words. "King Tirigan died at the hands of the new ruler," you read. "He was assassinated by those who wished to bring forth the new Age of Aedes." "So someone killed him because they clearly didn't enjoy the peace King Tirigan achieved," Prince Irus comments. "It seems so," you reply.<</linkreplace>> [[End your reading.|chp3_2a_7][$leadership +=10]]

As you peruse through the book about Sovereign Rabiah with Prince Irus, you are taken by the lengths that the ruler went through in order to unite the fractured Southern Islands. <<linkreplace "Read about Sovereign Rabiah's early life and beginnings." t8n>>"Who was Sovereign Rabiah?" you ask. Prince Irus examines the pages of the book, humming in thought. "It seems that she was born during one of the early wars, when others fought to control the Southern Islands." "And?" you prompt. "Her family were killed and she soon joined the resistance against the war. She trained as a spy then as a soldier, eventually leading a division of the resistance. It's all quite impressive," Prince Irus murmurs. You nod in agreement. It seems that Sovereign Rabiah was determined to do everything that she could to stop the war.<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Learn about how Sovereing Rabiah united the Southern Islands." t8n>>"How did she manage to unite the Southern Islands?" you ask. "After leading a division of the resistance against the war for power, Rabiah managed to slip into a fort on the central island, where she managed to convice the opposing leader to step down," Prince Irus reads. "She convinced the leader? How?" you question. Prince Irus shrugs. "It doesn't say, though maybe she used force or threats. It worked, because she was named ruler soon afterwards. As her first decree, she called an end to the war and then ordered that the Southern Islands be united once more."<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Read more about Sovereign Rabiah's reign." t8n>>"What was her leadership like in the Southern Islands?" you question, glancing at the book in Prince Irus' grip. "She was a just and fair ruler," Prince Irus answers, paging through the book. "Though, she also was renowned for executing those who dared defy her orders." "That doesn't sound very fair or just," you comment. Prince Irus nods, frowning. "It seems that she eliminated any threats to her rule." You think about King Erlan, who tried to eliminate the Ishari people. Perhaps Prince Irus is thinking the same thing, because he turns to the last chapter of the book.<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Learn about Sovereign Rabiah's final days and legacy that followed." t8n>>"Sovereign Rabiah reigned over the Southern Islands from years 382 to 478, before she stepped down and allowed her nation to vote for their next ruler," Prince Irus reads. "Vote?" you ask, surprised. Prince Irus nods. "She allowed her people to choose their next leader, regardless of their station." "And who became the next leader?" you ask. Prince Irus scans the page, before his lips tug into a slight grin. "A local fisherman, who had brought in much needed trade and vessels to those who wished to travel." You nearly balk at the idea that a fisherman could become the next leader of the Southern Islands. It is far different that how things seemed to have been done in both Cyre and Vinia.<</linkreplace>> [[Stop reading about Sovereign Rabiah.|chp3_2a_7][$leadership +=10]]

<<if $skill_counter is 1>> It is still midday when you are done, with time still left if you wanted to do something else. <<if $skill_lead is true>> [[You would like to learn about politics with Queen Elora.|chp3_pol_landing][$skill_pol to true, $skill_counter +=1]] [[You would like to train and improve your combat skills with Sir Oren.|chp3_com_landing][$skill_com to true, $skill_counter +=1]] [[You do not wish to improve any other skills.|chp3_3][$leadership +=5]] <<elseif $skill_pol is true>> [[You think you will join Prince Irus in the library to learn about leadership.|chp3_lead_landing][$skill_lead to true, $skill_counter +=1]] [[You would like to join Sir Oren and improve your combat skills.|chp3_com_landing][$skill_com to true, $skill_counter +=1]] [[You do not wish to improve any other skill.|chp3_3][$politics +=5]] <<elseif $skill_com is true>> [[You will join Prince Irus after all to learn about leadership.|chp3_lead_landing][$skill_lead to true, $skill_counter +=1]] [[You will improve on your political knowledge with Queen Elora.|chp3_pol_landing][$skill_pol to true, $skill_counter +=1]] [[You do not wish to improve any other skill for now.|chp3_3][$blades +=5]]<</if>> <<elseif $skill_counter gt 1>> It is late afternoon by now and despite the sun's peak in the sky, fatigue begins to pull at you. You find yourself walking back to your chamber, too tired to do anything else. [[Next.|chp3_3]] <</if>>

<<if $chp3_2b is 1>> The thought of seeing Queen Elora again causes you to smile in anticipation. When you had met her, the night of your arrival, she had held herself with dignity and poise. Yet, there had been nothing condescending in the way that she looked at you, a rare thing to experience after your life in Salt Bay taught you otherwise. <<if $night_one is 3>> You think about the moment you spent in the garden with Queen Elora, the softness and vulnerability as she spoke of her past. It was unexpected, though perhaps it is the reason for your excitement at spending time with the young Queen again.<</if>> <<elseif $chp3_2b is 2>> A sliver of remorse fills you at the thought of leaving Prince Irus to visit the library himself, but you push it down, knowing that you will be helping him just as much by learning about politics. After all, if Prince Irus is to garner any support, he will need to have some knowledge of how to navigate around the politics of the different regions. <<elseif $chp3_2b is 3>> Your time in Salt Bay was spent learning how to remove scales from a fish and how to gut it properly to sell in the market with Ahlf. There had only been a few books in your small cottage, too old and outdated to teach you anything relevant. Now that you are in Vinia, you intend on bettering your knowledge on politics. <<elseif $chp3_2b is 4>> Fleeing from Salt Bay, you have become familiar with the fact that you cannot be too prepared for what is to come. Remaining with Prince Irus like this has taught you that eventually, he will be going up against his uncle and the Blood Guard. Navigating the difficult paths of politics will serve you well, especially when you will have to face your enemies once again. <<elseif $chp3_2b is 5>> Is it so wrong to want to do something for yourself? You have spent nearly two weeks now, with Prince Irus and though his presence has become familiar to you, it is still difficult to find a moment to yourself. You want to do something other than helping him, even if it's for a day. <</if>> Smoothing down the material of your tunic, you step out of your chamber and make your way towards the large tea room that you once noticed Queen Elora in, accompanied by an older woman, who resembled the young Queen. You had not been invited then, but later, Queen Elora approached you and told you to visit her in the tea room whenever you were free. As you approach the tea room, you notice that the room opens up to look over the palace gardens. A sweet, cloying smell fills the air and you spot a cone of incense, emitting smoke over the room. At the far end of the room, a low table has been laden with porcelain cups and saucers, though you do not see Queen Elora anywhere. You are about to leave, when Queen Elora appears at the doorway. She smiles at you. "$name, you came," she greets. [[Next.|chp3_2b_2]]

She enters the room, her dress, flowing easily around her legs. Behind her, you notice two guards.<<if $night_one is 3>> You remember them from the gardens, Belit and Shala, who had guarded the young Queen when she had invited you to join her.<<else>> They eye you as they take up their positions on either side of the door.<</if>> Queen Elora sits, gesturing for you to do the same as she begins pouring out the steaming tea. "I hope you do not mind tea," she says. "I find it soothes me after a long day of dealing with endless courtiers." You raise an eyebrow. "It is not that late in the day." "Indeed, it is not," she sighs. "It seems that from the moment that I rise, there is always someone who needs something or the other from me." <<set $chp3_2b_2 to 0>> [["That sounds exhausting," you respond, frowing empathetically.|chp3_2b_3][$chp3_2b_2 +=1, $eloraRel +=3]] [[♡"I am sorry you have to go through that," you murmur, wanting to comfort her.|chp3_2b_3][$chp3_2b_2 +=2, $eloraRel +=3, $eloraRom +=3, $shy_elora +=5]] [[♡"Do let me know if there is anything I can do to assuage your worries," you offer, smiling widely.|chp3_2b_3][$chp3_2b_2 +=3, $eloraRom +=3, $eloraRel +=3, $bold_elora +=5]] [["These are simply the things that you must face as a ruler," you respond with a shrug.|chp3_2b_3][$chp3_2b_2 +=4]] [["This is your duty," you scoff. "You should be grateful for your privilege. Not everyone can be so lucky."|chp3_2b_3][$eloraRel -=3, $chp3_2b_2 +=5]]

<<if $chp3_2b_2 is 1>> "That sounds exhausting," you respond, frowing empathetically. Queen Elora catches your gaze, her eyes softening at your words. Smiling at you, she settles back against her chair, examining your face. Perhaps it is an uncommon thing, to be reassured by someone like you or perhaps, no one has ever tried to reassure her before. "Thank you, $name," she replies. "Not many would understand the burdens I must bear. It is not an easy one." "No, I suppose it must be not," you agree. "You have to worry about an entire kingdom all the time. Do you ever get time to rest?" She sips her tea, thoughtful. "I have not had time to rest, not since becoming queen. Though, my mother would beg to differ." <<elseif $chp3_2b_2 is 2>> "I am sorry you have to go through that," you murmur, wanting to comfort her. Queen Elora gazes at you, seated across from her. Her eyes, dark and endless, travel over your face as she considers your words. It is hard to look at Queen Elora, when her gaze is so intense. Heat rushes to your face and you have to look away, suddenly, finding it difficult to breathe. "You are kind, $name," Queen Elora responds. The smile in her voice causes you to look up. Her eyes are like flames, as you stare at her, unwilling to look away. Your ears are loud with the sound of your rushing blood and you wonder if Queen Elora can hear the way your heartbeat thunders under your chest. "Perhaps, I will seek you out whenever I am in need of reassurance," she breathes. "Or perhaps, more." It takes you a moment to realise the insinuation in her voice. You blink, hot and surprised and look down at your own cup of tea. Queen Elora lets out a melodic laugh, amusement flashing through her eyes. <<elseif $chp3_2b_2 is 3>> "Do let me know if there is anything I can do to assuage your worries," you offer, smiling widely. Queen Elora seems nonplussed by the forwardness of your offer. Her eyes, dark and wild, linger on you for a moment. She smiles, tilting her head as her gaze sweeps over your face, your neck, before moving towards the rest of your body. When her eyes finally meet yours again, there is a glint in them. "Oh? And what if I require something a little more intimate?" she asks. You lean forward in your seat, hating that the low table is suddenly in your way of getting to Queen Elora. She raises an eyebrow, chuckling when she catches the eager smirk on your lips. "Then I will be happy to oblige, Your Majesty," you breathe. Queen Elora bites her lower lip and you find yourself enthralled by the sight, suddenly wanting to leap over the table to replace her teeth with your own. She notices your gaze and smirks. "All in good time, $name," she murmurs. Her eyes flicker to where her guards stand. "Unless you want to shame Belit and Shala." "What's a little shame?" you ask. Queen Elora laughs, drawing back. "You are quite a delight, $name." <<elseif $chp3_2b_2 is 4>> "These are simply the things that you must face as a ruler," you respond with a shrug. Queen Elora nods, sighing at your words. After all, everyone had duties to adhere to, regardless of their status. When you were still in Salt Bay, you had to help Ahlf in the market and still help out in the cottage. "You are right, of course," Queen Elora murmurs. "It simply has to be done." She sips at her tea and you watch as momentary relief flashes through her eyes. You muse that it must be difficult to tend to others from the time you awaken, though after spending so long with Prince Irus, perhaps it is not that different from catering to an exiled prince. <<elseif $chp3_2b_2 is 5>> "This is your duty," you scoff. "You should be grateful for your privilege. Not everyone can be so lucky." Queen Elora narrows her eyes at you, a dangerous glint flashing through them. Behind you, you hear the guards move but a look from Queen Elora, stops them. Swallowing a breath, she sits back, smoothing away the frown and replacing it with a hard smile. "Of course," she replies. "I cannot complain about the privilege that I was given." You roll your eyes, turning away from her look. It seems that Queen Elora is unaccustomed to living a life of hardship. Surrounded by such opulence, you doubt that she has ever had to lift a finger a day in her life. It is easy to complain about your status, if you are a ruler. <</if>> [[Next.|chp3_2b_4]]

As the conversation lulls, Queen Elora glances at you with an appraising look. You have a feeling that she is searching for something, but you are uncertain as to what it might be. "Tell me, $name," she says. "Have you any familiarity with politics?" <<if $politics gt 50>> "Not a lot," you explain. "There was an old book about treaties that I read once, but it was outdated."<<else>>"No, I do not know much about politics," you explain.<</if>> "Perhaps I can offer you some guidance?" she suggests. "After all, the banquet is fast approaching and you will need some expertise when navigating the different social circles." "Social circles?" you question. Queen Elora nods. "You see, most of my councillors are made up of the leaders of the different cities in Vinia. Many are nobles, but there are those who started as common labourers. It takes a nuanced understanding of politics and diplomacy to know who to speak to and what to say without causing them offence." "It sounds tiring," you reply. "It can be," she answers. "But you can also use it to your advantage, to persuade those to act in your favour." [[Next.|chp3_2b_5]]

"There are fifteen cities in Vinia, of which Aspal is the capital," Queen Elora explains. "At least eight of the remaining cities will vote in favour of Prince Irus receiving support." "That's good," you reply. "It means that the majority will vote to help him." Queen Elora smiles at you. "It is not so simple. The remaining seven leaders are divided into the cities that always choose neutrality and those who hold more sway in the council that I sometimes do." You frown in confusion. "I don't understand." "Four cities will abstain from voting, because their rulers value neutrality above all else," Queen Elora explains. "The other eight kingdoms will vote according to the three leaders of Joran, Nylah and Hadi." "Can you not overrule their vote?" you ask. Queen Elora shakes her head. "No, but Aspal will be voting in favour of Prince Irus receiving support. I can help you learn more about the leaders of the three cities. There's Lord Redall Veranius of Joran, Honourable Emnilda of Nylah and Administrator Kazan of Hadi." <<set $redall to false>><<set $emnilda to false>><<set $kazan to false>> [[Learn more about Lord Redall Veranius of Joran.|chp3_2b_6a][$redall to true]] [[Learn more about Honourable Emnilda of Nylah.|chp3_2b_6b][$emnilda to true]] [[Learn more about Administrator Kazan of Hadi.|chp3_2b_6c][$kazan to true]]

"Tell me more about Lord Redall Veranius," you say. Queen Elora nods, placing her porcelain cup onto the table. She hums in thought, fiddling with the golden bangles that adorn her wrists. When she speaks again, it is with a tone of admiration. "Lord Redall Veranius is a noble by birth," Queen Elora explains. "His father was the ruler of Joran and when he passed on, Redall took over. Before that, Joran was a just another port city. Most of our trade with the southern regions enter through Joran." You decide to drink you own tea, no longer scalding, as you think over Queen Elora's words. "Now, Joran is known for its production of weaponry and under Redall's rule, he has built a fleet of warships." [[Next.|chp3_2b_6a_1][$codeJoran to true]]

"I want to learn more about Administrator Kazan," you say. Queen Elora nods at you, as she takes a sip from her porcelain cup. When she speaks, there is a hardness in her voice that had not been there before. "Administrator Kazan was once a merchant by trade," Queen Elora explains. "He made his wealth through trade with various regions and when his wealth grew, so did his power. He is well liked by the merchants, and so it is with their help that he became the ruler of Hadi." "He sounds powerful," you murmur. Queen Elora's eyes glint with something dangerous. "Do not let his wealth fool you into thinking that he is powerful. Kazan wields his control through bribery and manipulation." [[Next.|chp3_2b_6c_1][$codeHadi to true]]

<<notify>>New Codex Entry<</notify>> You wonder what type of person Lord Redall Veranius might be and glance at Queen Elora, a dozen questions on the tip of your tongue. <<linkreplace "You ask Queen Elora about Lord Redall Veranius' personality." t8n>>"What is Lord Redall like?" you ask. Queen Elora pauses in thought, before she answers you. "He is a cunning man. He values strategy and might over all else, though, he is also a good man. A kind one, depending on who you ask." "And if I ask you, what would you say about him?" you question. Queen Elora flashes you a smile. "He is a good ally to have in your corner."<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Learn more about Lord Redall's military experience." t8n>>"You said that Lord Redall has a fleet of war ships?" you ask. "He does," Queen Elora answers. "Before his father's passing, Redall visited various different regions. I heard that he spent some time in Ishari and when he returned, he was a different man." You are surprised that anyone, let alone a noble from Vinia would spend time in Ishari. When you fled, all those years ago, the Blood Guard had found a way to destroy eveything in their path.<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You ask about Lord Redall's connection to Ishari." t8n>>"I did not expect Lord Redall to have visited Ishari," you say. "Does that surprise you?" Queen Elora asks. She offers you a smile. "I suppose it must, considering that you have spent much time in Cyre. Vinia has a strong trade with Ishari, thanks to Redall's efforts." "But why Ishari?" you ask. Queen Elora's eyes flicker with amusement. "Some say that after Redall returned from Ishari, he returned with a lover." "He found love in Ishari?" you ask, surprised. Queen Elora nods. "If you believe in the rumours."<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You ask about winning Lord Redall's favour." t8n>>As you sip at your tea, slightly sweet and still warm, you think about what Queen Elora has told you so far about Lord Redall Veranius. "What must Prince Irus do to gain Lord Redall's favour?" you question. "Gaining his favour is not an easy feat," Queen Elora replies. She pauses, thinking. "You will need to prove that you are worthy of his aid. But I am sure that Iri will manage to do that with your help. Redall values strength, but he is also sympathetic to the plights of those who are oppressed. Iri will need to convince Redall that he either a strong leader or that his cause is one worth supporting."<</linkreplace>> [[Next.|chp3_2b_7]]

"I'd like to learn about Honourable Emnilda of Nylah," you say. Nodding in response, Queen Elora glances to the side, as if in thought. When she speaks, her eyes find yours, a hint of respect in them. "Emnilda was born to a hard life," Queen Elora explains. "Before she became the leader of Nylah, the city was known for being one of the less hospitable cities in Vinia." "What do you mean?" you ask. Queen Elora sighs, "Let us just say that criminals found a haven in Nylah and flourished under the ignorance of its previous ruler. Emnilda had by then, gotten fed up with the way Nylah was being led so she gathered support and marched to the palace, demanding an audience with my father. He granted her one and when she left, she left with a decree naming her the new leader of Nylah." [[Next.|chp3_2b_6b_1][$codeNylah to true]]

As you mull over Queen Elora's words, you find the young Queen leaning towards you. Her eyes meet yours and within her gaze, you find a look of scrutiny. But before she can say anything, one of her guards steps forward. Queen Elora frowns, sitting up straighter. "What is it Shala?" she asks. "I am sorry to intrude, Your Majesty," Shala apologises. "But I must remind you that it is nearly midday and Sovereign Amera requested-" "Stars above," Queen Elora blurts, standing. She glances at you, a look of remorse in her face. "I am sorry, $name. I am afraid that I must leave you for now. My mother is not someone I can keep waiting for too long." You nod as you stand as well. "It is fine." Queen Elora smiles widely at you, her eyes softening. "Thank you for understanding. I suppose I shall see you later and if you ever wish to speak more, on politics or anything else, you can always find me here on most days." Waving to you, Queen Elora hurries out of the room with her guards in tow. Alone once more, you take your leave as well. [[Next.|chp3_2_central][$politics +=10]]

<<notify>>New Codex Entry<</notify>> Honourable Emnilda sounds like a formidable woman, one who does not take kindly to the corrupt and wealthy. Glancing at Queen Elora, you think about the questions you would like to ask her. <<linkreplace "You ask Queen Elora about Honourable Emnilda's personality." t8n>>"What is Honourable Emnilda like?" you ask. Queen Elora smiles as she answers. "She is intimidating and also, very strict. She and my father were great friends. Once, when I was still a young girl, I remember running through the halls and bumping into Honourable Emnilda. She scolded me for running and her face was so severe that I ended up crying." "She sounds scary," you say. "She is scary," Queen Elora agrees. "But she is also fair and just and will honour what is right, regardless of what others might say."<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Learn about Honourable Emnilda's role in eradicating crime in Nylah." t8n>>You think about what Queen Elora had said about Honourable Emnilda, about how she marched to her father demanding for justice to be done. "How did Honourable Emnilda change Nylah?" you ask. "She was determined and she had gathered the support of those who wished to change Nylah for the better," Queen Elora explains. "Not many people were brave enough to go against the thieves that called Nylah their home, but Honourable Emnilda was unafraid." Queen Elora sips at her tea, smiling at the memory. "She and her supporters rounded up the criminals and had established mass trials for each of those accused of committing crimes," Queen Elora explains. "They were punished accordingly. My father was so impressed that he often would seek Honourable Emnilda's advice on the law."<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You ask Queen Elora about Honourable Emnilda's experience with the law." t8n>>"How did Honourable Emnilda become so experienced with the law?" you ask. "She was mentored by one of the magistrates in Nylah at the time," Queen Elora responds. "And I believe that it was through this that she learnt a fair deal on the application of the law and how to interpret it."<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You question Queen Elora on how to win Honourable Emnilda's support." t8n>>As you think about what Queen Elora has said about Honourable Emnilda, you cannot shake away the idea of an impressive woman who seems to have ruled Nylah with ideals of justice. "What will Prince Irus need to do in order to secure Honourable Emnilda's support?" you question. Queen Elora leans back in her seat as she ponders your question. When she speaks, it is in measured tones. "Honourable Emnilda is not easily won over. She respects integrity above all and doing what is right. If Iri wishes to gain Honourable Emnilda's support, he will need to convince her that he is rightful ruler to the throne of Cyre."<</linkreplace>> [[Next.|chp3_2b_7]]

<<notify>>New Codex Entry<</notify>> You think about what Queen Elora said about Administrator Kazan. He seems like he knows more about commerce than he does about leading, though, you are no expert in either fields. <<linkreplace "You ask Queen Elora about Administrator Kazan's personality." t8n>>"What is Administrator Kazan like?" you ask. Queen Elora rolls her eyes, a look of distaste spreading through her face. "He is annoying and arrogant and believes that he knows best. Still, he is no fool. While he may charm a person with honeyed words and an easy smile, Kazan knows how to sniff out a person's weakness and use it against them." You nod, frowning in thought.<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You question Queen Elora about her evident dislike for Administrator Kazan." t8n>>"You do not like Administrator Kazan?" you ask. Queen Elora blinks, her eyes flashing towards you. Something that you cannot quite place flickers through her dark gaze, but in a second, the it is gone. "I do not despise him, if that is what you're getting at," Queen Elora sighs. "I just find his presence insufferable." "And why is that?" you ask. She snorts, "He tried propositioning me for my hand in marriage. Can you imagine? Me, married to a smug boor like him?"<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You ask Queen Elora about Administrator Kazan's rule in Hadi." t8n>>"What type of leader is Administrator Kazan?" you question. Queen Elora shrugs, picking at a loose thread on her skirt. There is a forced look of concentration in her eyes, as if trying to distance herself from the thought of Administrator Kazan. "He is what you would expect of a merchant leader," she remarks. "Rich, pompous and accustomed to getting his way, be it through manipulation or bribery." "And does Hadi suffer for this?" you ask. "No," Queen Elora mutters. "In fact, the city somehow seems to have flourished under Kazan's leadership."<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You ask Queen Elora how to secure Administrator Kazan's aid." t8n>>As you ponder on what Queen Elora has said about Administrator Kazan, you think about what Prince Irus will need to do in order to garner his support. "How can Prince Irus get Administrator Kazan's support?" you ask. Queen Elora frowns, her eyebrows furrowing in thought. "Kazan values his time and more importantly, he values his wealth. He will not support a losing cause, after all, he would certainly earn more from someone in charge of a kingdom rather than one who is exiled from it." "So what can Prince Irus do?" you question. "Iri will need to convince Kazan that he is worth the investment of his support against Virion," Queen Elora answers. "Do that and he will certainly vote in favour of Iri."<</linkreplace>> [[Next.|chp3_2b_7]]

<<if $chp3_2c is 1>> Travelling with Prince Irus has taught you that you are woefully unprepared for the dangers that you had to face. From Morden to the rest of the Blood Guard, it is clear that you will need to learn how to protect yourself if you are to survive the dangers ahead. <<elseif $chp3_2c is 2>> Despite only knowing each other for only over a week, you cannot deny that you have grown accustomed to Prince Irus' presence. It is hard to think about what you would do, if something happened to him. By training with Sir Oren, you hope to better your chances at protecting both Prince Irus and yourself from the dangers that you are certain you will face in the future. <<elseif $chp3_2c is 3>> The idea of spending more time with Sir Oren brings a smile to your face. He has proven to be a friendly companion since your arrival in Aspal and his steady smile and genuine concern is a rare thing to see in someone with as high of a status as the Captain. <<elseif $chp3_2c is 4>> You know that you will eventually face more dangers than you already have and the best way to face them is by learning how to defend yourself. Though, it is not the only reason you wish to train with Sir Oren. You long to hear his voice and see his friendly smile again. <<elseif $chp3_2c is 5>> After spending nearly a week together, you long to be free to do as you please, without having to spend that time with Prince Irus. Though he might be the reason for your travels to Vinia, you prefer to do something on your own for a change. <</if>> As you smooth down your tunic, brushing away any stray remainders from your breakfast, you step out of your room. The hallways are nearly empty as you make your way towards the training yard.<<if $night_one is 2>> The way to the training yard is a familiar one, the same path you took the night you had your nightmare.<<else>> You find yourself getting lost a few times, turning down a wrong hallway, before you eventually manage to find the training yard.<</if>> [[Next.|chp3_2c_2]]

Upon your arrival, you notice that the training yard is not empty. To the far side of the open field, you see a few guards, or perhaps //recruits// is a better term for them, because they do not wear the same uniforms as Sir Oren or Nerena did. They are training with wooden poles, paired off in teams of two. You are startled out of your observation when Nerena strides towards you. Her eyes glimmer with something that reminds of a cat, cornering a mouse with nowhere left to hide. "$name," she greets. "I see you've gotten lost." You frown in response. "I was hoping to train with Sir Oren." <<if $nerenaRel gt 50>> Nerena glances at you, raising an eyebrow. "I suppose you are in need of training," she murmurs.<<else>>Nerena rolls her eyes and you catch the look of derision on her face.<</if>> Your conversation with Nerena is interrupted when you spot Sir Oren approaching you both. He is wearing a loose tunic and leather vest over the top, far different from the armour you have seen him wear when you first met and on your trip through Aspal. He smiles when he notices you. "$name," he says. "What brings you to the training yard?" Nerena speaks before you can, "$name wants to train." Sir Oren glances at you, raising his eyebrows. "You are interested in improving your combat?" When you nod, he beams widely at you. "Come, I will see what can be arranged," he replies. [[Next.|chp3_2c_3]]

You soon find yourself in a small room, where piles of leather jerkins and discarded pieces of armour sit in a wooden chest. Sir Oren had advised you that if you were to train, you would need some sort of protection. As you fix your armour in place, you step out into the training yard. <<if $night_one is 2>> In the daylight, the training yard seems much larger than it had when you first saw it, after having your nightmare.<</if>> The training yard is circular and large, its width surrounded by smaller buildings which you assume to be store rooms. "Good," Sir Oren says, spotting you emerge from the room. "You're ready." His enthusiasm catches you slightly off-guard, though you happily follow as he leads you through the training yard. A few of the recruits pause in their training to watch as you pass, curious as their gazes shift onto Sir Oren once more. "You will be training with me today, $name," Sir Oren explains. He glances towards where Nerena barks out orders at a recruit. "I fear that my recruits might be upset with my decision, though I think you would fare better with a gentler teacher." <<set $chp3_2c_3 to 0>> [["Thank you," you answer with a smile. "I appreciate your help."|chp3_2c_4][$chp3_2c_3 +=1, $orenRel +=3]] [[♡Your cheeks warm under Sir Oren's gaze as you mumble, "Thank you."|chp3_2c_4][$chp3_2c_3 +=2, $orenRel +=3, $orenRom +=3, $shy_oren +=5]] [[♡"I might prefer a rougher touch, Captain," you respond with a grin.|chp3_2c_4][$chp3_2c_3 +=3, $orenRel +=3, $orenRom +=3, $bold_oren +=5]] [["It matters not whether my teacher is gentle or harsh," you answer. "I only care for improving my own skills."|chp3_2c_4][$chp3_2c_3 +=4]] [[You roll your eyes at Sir Oren. "I do not need coddling."|chp3_2c_4][$orenRel -=3, $chp3_2c_3 +=5]]

<<if $chp3_2c_3 is 1>> "Thank you," you answer with a smile. "I appreciate your help." Sir Oren returns your smile, the expression on his face warming. His hazel eyes glimmer with an earnestness that you are unused to seeing directed at you. "It is my pleasure, $name," he answers. "I find it greatly rewarding to teach others of the ways of combat." "You enjoy training the other recruits?" you ask, gesturing towards where Nerena shoves a recruit to the ground with a pole. Sir Oren winces at the sight, before he returns his attention onto you. "I do," he replies. "Although I prefer to help my recruits rather than beat them at every opportunity, like Nerena." There is a fondness in the way Sir Oren speaks of Nerena and you imagine that they must be quite close, working together as a Captain and the Second in Command. <<elseif $chp3_2c_3 is 2>> Your cheeks warm under Sir Oren's gaze as you mumble, "Thank you." Sir Oren pauses, staring at your expression. The heat against your cheeks grow and you suddenly realise how close you and Sir Oren stand together. You turn away from his gaze, unable to meet the intensity of his hazel irises. "Are you unwell, $name?" Sir Oren asks. His voice is laced with concern and perhaps, something that is more, but you are too afraid to ask and too afraid to find out if you are misreading this situation entirely. You shake your head, focussing on the ground. Sir Oren reaches out and you find yourself stumbling back. His eyebrows furrow, a frown tugging at his lips. But Sir Oren is determined and he places his palm against your forehead. "You feel warm," he comments. "Are you certain that you are fine?" "Yes," you blurt, pushing away his hand. "It's merely the heat. That's all. Shall we train now?" Sir Oren blinks, confused but offers you another one of his smiles. "Very well." <<elseif $chp3_2c_3 is 3>> "I might prefer a rougher touch, Captain," you respond with a grin. Sir Oren blinks and you watch in delight as red spots blotch his cheeks. He clears his throat, suddenly unable to meet your eyes. "Right, well," he says, before stopping. "I mean to say that is all well and good." "What is the matter?" you ask. "Are you afraid that you will hurt me if you are too rough?" Sir Oren's eyes widen at your words and he splutters, trying and failing to hide his embarrassment. It is adorable, you think, watching the strong Captain, usually composed, now reduced to a blabbering mess who cannot meet your eyes. "Allow me to assuage your fears, Sir Oren," you breathe. "I prefer to be a little rough. It's what-" "Alright," Sir Oren interrupts. "Shall we begin our training then?" You can only laugh in response, as you watch Sir Oren hurry away from you. He casts a glance in your direction and you wink at him. A strangled sound escapes Sir Oren and he turns away from your look. <<elseif $chp3_2c_3 is 4>> "It matters not whether my teacher is gentle or harsh," you answer. "I only care for improving my own skills." Sir Oren nods at you, pondering your words with what seems to be admiration. "That is a good outlook to have," Sir Oren replies. "You can never know what to expect in battle, which is why it is best to prepare for anything." "You can never fully prepare for everything," you murmur, thinking about your life. Something in your tone must reach Sir Oren's notice because he turns to you with a sorrowful look. "I am sorry that you had to endure such struggles, $name. Know that I will do my best to prepare you to face the dangers that may come." <<elseif $chp3_2c_3 is 5>> You roll your eyes at Sir Oren. "I do not need coddling." Sir Oren frowns at your caustic tone, blinking in surprise. A moment passes before he speaks, the usual gentleness in his tone absent. "I did not mean to cause offence," Sir Oren replies. "Though being gentle on people does not equate to coddling." "Going easy on me will not help me learn," you mutter. "I do not need to be coddled and treated like an inexperienced fighter." Sir Oren raises his eyebrows, before sighing. "Very well." He turns, leading you farther into the training yard, a hardness in his expression that was not there before. <</if>> [[Next.|chp3_2c_5]]

"Come, $name," Sir Oren calls. He moves to grab two wooden poles, like the ones the recruits wield. He tosses one towards you and you manage to catch it in your grip. The pole is nearly as tall as you are, its weight hefty in your palm. Behind Sir Oren, you notice a rack of swords, spears and even bows. Sir Oren notices your look and offers you a rueful smile. "Most recruits start off with the basic, wooden weapons. It is easier to fight with a real weapon, after you have mastered the basic fighting techniques." "What do you mean?" you question. "Well, have you ever developed a fighting style?" he asks. You think about the Blood Guardsman that you and Prince Irus had to fend off. It was not really a fighting style, but more of a fight for survival. "No," you admit. "I have not, though when your life is in danger, it is hard to concentrate on footwork." Sir Oren lets out a laugh in response. "I suppose you are right. But never underestimate the value of proper footwork and positioning." You nod as he continues to speak. "Some like Nerena, prefer more offensive styles of fighting," he explains. "Others, prefer to remain defensive and rather use strategy to take down their opponents. And there are some, who prefer to utilise both offensive and defensive styles when fighting." You raise an eyebrow. "And which one are you?" Sir Oren grins, amusement filling his features. "That is for you to find out." [[Next.|chp3_2c_6]]

Sir Oren gives you no warning as he raises the wooden pole, charging towards you. For a moment, you can only stare at his bulk, a massive form of hard muscles and tall height that has been honed for battle. Even you can admit that facing Sir Oren head on like this is intimidating. He brings the wooden pole towards your face and your eyes widen. You think about his words, the types of fighting styles and you decide to favour... <<set $MC_fightstyle to "unknown">> [[...an offensive fighting style.|chp3_2c_a][$MC_fightstyle to "offensive"]] [[...a defensive fighting style.|chp3_2c_b][$MC_fightstyle to "defensive"]] [[...a combination style, neither favouring offensive nor defensive strategies.|chp3_2c_c][$MC_fightstyle to "combination"]]

You hold the wooden pole higher, testing its weight in your hold. Perhaps, it would be best to utilise both defensive and offensive manoeuvres when facing Sir Oren. Adjusting your stance, you ready yourself for Sir Oren's attack, hoping to deflect it before striking him with your own weapon. Sir Oren seems surprised by your stance, though there is a glimmer of respect in his gaze. He charges towards you, faster than you expected, but you are ready for him. Swinging the wooden pole towards you, you manage to raise your own to deflect the blow. But you find yourself losing strength in your arms as Sir Oren uses his own weapon to shove you back, relentless in his attack. You stumble backwards, breathing hard. "You'll need to do better than that if you want to win," Sir Oren says, grinning. Your fingers tighten around the wooden pole and you narrow your eyes at him. <<set $chp3_2c_c to 0>> [[You charge at him, weapon raised.|chp3_2c_c1][$chp3_2c_c +=1]] [[You will wait for Sir Oren to make the first move.|chp3_2c_c1][$chp3_2c_c +=2]] [[You will attack him then deflect, hoping to trip him up.|chp3_2c_c1][$chp3_2c_c +=3]]

You hold the wooden pole in your hand, drawing it up, to protect yourself. Watching Sir Oren, you try to anticipate his next move, though to your dismay, you find that he too has taken this chance to observe you. A flicker of respect flashes through his eyes, when he notices your defensive pose. Unwilling to make the first move, you and Sir Oren watch each other. A moment passes, before Sir Oren decides to take the initiative. He comes towards you, aiming his weapon towards your shins. You dive away from the blow, only to realise too late that Sir Oren was expecting you to dodge. He brings the wooden pole onto the back of your legs and you stumble, nearly crashing onto the ground. "You need to try harder than that," he states, grinning at you. Your breathing is harsh as you glance at Sir Oren. <<set $chp3_2c_b to 0>> [[You examine his posture for any exposed spots, hoping to bring Sir Oren down with the least amount of effort.|chp3_2c_b1][$chp3_2c_b +=1]] [[You will wait for Sir Oren to charge first, hoping to use his strength against him.|chp3_2c_b1][$chp3_2c_b +=2]] [[You ready yourself in a defensive position, hoping to deflect his attack before counteracting it with your own.|chp3_2c_b1][$chp3_2c_b +=3]]

You raise the wooden pole in your hand, the weight solid as you face Sir Oren without hesitation. He seems suprised by your confidence, but the surprise soon gives way to a determined glint. His weapon comes down towards you and you raise the wooden pole in response. Both clash against each other, and you find yourself gritting your teeth as Sir Oren presses forward. He is strong, you realise, your arms struggling as you keep his weapon from striking you. Sir Oren is the first to move away, grinning widely at you. "Not bad," he comments. "But you will need to do better than that." <<set $chp3_2c_6 to 0>> [[You strike his legs, hoping to trip him.|chp3_2c_a1][$chp3_2c_6 +=1]] [[You slam your weapon into his torso, hoping to wind him.|chp3_2c_a1][$chp3_2c_6 +=2]] [[You swing your weapon at his head, hoping to disorientate him.|chp3_2c_a1][$chp3_2c_6 +=3]]

<<if $chp3_2c_6 is 1>> You strike his legs, hoping to trip him. You bend low, striking out towards Sir Oren's legs. The pole is heavy, longer than you would have liked it to be as you swing its weight. Sir Oren sees your attack and manages to dodge in time. In response, he brings his own weapon towards you. You are barely able to turn away from his attack, your breath coming out in hard pants. Sweat gathers along your eyebrows and you notice that Sir Oren does not fare any better under the heat of the scorching sun. "You will need to be quicker than that, $name," he breathes. "Most opponents will not go so easy on you." Your grit your teeth, eyes narrowing at his taunts. Raising your weapon, you charge towards Sir Oren with a grunt of aggression. <<elseif $chp3_2c_6 is 2>> You slam your weapon into his torso, hoping to wind him. Tightening your hold on the wooden pole, you bring it arching towards Sir Oren's middle. Momentum grips at the sturdy weight in your hands and you inwardly curse as you feel yourself losing your grip. Sir Oren catches sight of your attack, but instead of moving away, he grins. Drawing up his own weapon, he slams it against yours, sending a painful shudder up your arms. You step back, panting and breathless. The sun's glint is hot on your skin. Glancing at Sir Oren, you catch sight of the sweat along his forehead. "There must be more than brute strength than simply swinging at your opponent," Sir Oren explains, smirking at your expression. Your grit your teeth, eyes narrowing at his taunts. Raising your weapon, you charge towards Sir Oren with a grunt of aggression. <<elseif $chp3_2c_6 is 3>> You swing your weapon at his head, hoping to disorientate him. The wooden pole slices against the air with an audible whoosh, and you brace yourself for the impact that you are certain will send Sir Oren to his knees. But the Captain is far quicker than you thought. Despite his immense height, Sir Oren manages to duck low enough to avoid the blow of your weapon. Without its intended target, you find yourself overreaching, your balance unsteady as you struggle to right yourself. Sir Oren uses this chance to shove at you with his weapon, sending you backwards. "You must learn to read your opponent and counteract their every move," Sir Oren says. "Lest you be the one at the end of their blade." Your grit your teeth, eyes narrowing at his taunts. Raising your weapon, you charge towards Sir Oren with a grunt of aggression. <</if>> [[Next.|chp3_2c_7]]

Your heart is pounding under your chest and your breathing is ragged and fast. Still, you do not hesitate as you bring the wooden pole towards Sir Oren. Perhaps it is his words that got to you, or perhaps you have finally started to improve your combat skills, because you manage to strike your weapon against Sir Oren's shoulder. He glances at you, surprise filling his gaze. But his surprise soon fades away into genuine excitement, the sight catching you off-guard. "That's the spirit," Sir Oren praises. "Perhaps there is hope for you yet, $name." You do not get the chance to respond to Sir Oren, as one of the recruits interrupts your conversation. "Captain," the recruit, a pale woman, calls. She holds her arm, wincing. "Do you think that you can take over our training? Nerena is a little rough." Sir Oren frowns, glancing over to where Nerena taunts a recruit. Sighing, he nods at the young woman with a soft smile. "Alright then. I suppose I can take over. Gon on, get your arm treated and when you return, I will take over the training?" The woman nods with a grin before hurrying off. Sir Oren turns, offering you an apologetic smile. "I am sorry, $name," he says. "It seems that I will need to end your training early. Someone needs to stop Nerena before she seriously injures the recruits. Perhaps we can train another time?" You nod, but your words die on the tip of your tongue as Sir Oren hurries off towards Nerena. Tired and sore, you decide to leave the training yard. [[Next.|chp3_2_central][$blades +=10]]

<<if $chp3_2c_b is 1>> You examine his posture for any exposed spots, hoping to bring Sir Oren down with the least amount of effort. He moves towards you, faster than you are prepared for but you manage to parry Sir Oren's attack while keeping your distance from him. Circling each other, you notice that his left side is exposed. It is enough of an incentive for you to swing your weapon towards his left side. You bring down your wooden pole, the weapon slicing through the air as it cuts towards Sir Oren. He notices your intended target and dances out of reach just as your weapon hits the ground dully. "Think ahead," Sir Oren says. "Your opponents will not be this easy, $name." His taunts cause your grip around the wooden pole to tighten. You want to prove to yourself that you are not just a simple fisherman's $heir. Gritting your teeth, you charge at Sir Oren. <<elseif $chp3_2c_b is 2>> You will wait for Sir Oren to charge first, hoping to use his strength against him. It is a game of waiting, as you circle each other. The heat weighs down on you unbearingly humid, but still, you do not lose focus on your opponent. Sir Oren matches your determination, as his hazel eyes drag across your features, searching for some sort of weakness. He must see it, because the look in his face hardens and he comes towards you with his weapon raised. You manage to dodge the first blow, a swing towards your left arm but you are unprepared for Sir Oren's quick reflexes. He turns away, before bringing his weapon at you again. It strikes your hand this time, causing your grip to falter on your own weapon. "You need to stop thinking so much and start taking action," Sir Oren says. "Another opponent would not be this merciful." You frown, your eyebrows furrowing at Sir Oren's words. Perhaps it is the adrenaline in your veins, but you find yourself gritting your teeth as you launch an attack at Sir Oren. <<elseif $chp3_2c_b is 3>> You ready yourself in a defensive position, hoping to deflect his attack before counteracting it with your own. Sir Oren inspects your posture, before nodding more to himself. He must see a weakness in your stance, but that it alright. You only wish to deflect his first blow before you counteract with one of your own. Hopefully, it will be enough to bring down the Captain. Sir Oren charges at you then, his weapon raised and his face a picture of a warrior. He brings down the wooden pole, the weapon cutting through the air towards your face. Instinctively, you duck low, raising your own weapon to deflect the attack. Sir Oren seems startled by your reflexes, but it does now last long. He presses on, this time, using the pole to trip your feet. You stumble back, unable to attack him. "You need to read your opponents better," Sir Oren says. "Another fighter would have injured you by now." Your eyebrows furrow as you stare up at Sir Oren. Your breathing is laboured and it is hard to focus over the rush of blood in your ears. His words irk you and you grit your teeth, as you charge towards him. <</if>> [[Next.|chp3_2c_7]]

<<if $chp3_2c_c is 1>> You charge at him, weapon raised. Favouring a more offensive attack, you launch yourself at Sir Oren with the wooden pole raised. Sir Oren's eyes widen, but he does not falter as he raises his own weapon. He parries your blow easily and to your suprise, manages to dart out away from your attack. Frowning at Sir Oren, this time, you wait for his attack. It does not come, as you circle each other. Your breathing is hard and the sun's heat bears down on your neck and shoulders. Sir Oren glances at your feet for a second, before he comes towards you. You dodge his attack, but he brings the wooden pole down, tangling in your feet as you struggle to maintain your balance. "A combination strategy is good, but do not forget to keep your guard up at all times," Sir Oren says. "Another opponent would not be this easy." The idea that Sir Oren is going easy on you causes you to grit your teeth. Gripping your weapon tightly in your hands, you charge towards Sir Oren. <<elseif $chp3_2c_c is 2>> You will wait for Sir Oren to make the first move. He circles you, his hazel eyes flickering with anticipation and something that looks like excitement. You remain still, your weapon raised to deflect any attack the Captain might launch. Perhaps done with inspecting your stance, Sir Oren brings the wooden pole towards your shoulder. You see it coming and manage to dodge at the last moment, escaping what you know would be a painful jab. Darting out of the way, you take a few steps back, only to realise that Sir Oren has managed to sneak up behind you. His weapon jabs at your side and you jump away, frowning at him. "You cannot only favour defensive moves," he says. "Your opponent will use it against you." You grit your teeth, your rushing blood urging you forward. Gripping the wooden pole in your hand, your raise it before charging towards Sir Oren. <<elseif $chp3_2c_c is 3>> You will attack him then deflect, hoping to trip him up. As you raise your weapon, you launch yourself towards Sir Oren. He seems startled by your attack, but he easily deflects the blow, sidestepping you. As he brings his own weapon down, you manage to deflect the attack, but the strength behind Sir Oren's attack has you reeling. Struggling to keep his pole away from you, you manage to dart away, letting your arms sag as Sir Oren's weapon slides away from your own. You are panting, when you eventually meet his hazel gaze. Sweat gathers across your forehead and your muscles are pulled taut, ready for another attack. "Think about your attack," Sir Oren says. "It must be powerful and efficient. Another opponent will do anything to bring you down." Your grip on the wooden pole tightens and you grit your teeth at Sir Oren's words. Without pausing to catch your breath, you launch yourself towards Sir Oren, your weapon raised. <</if>> [[Next.|chp3_2c_7]]

You decide to visit Queen Elora, hoping that she will be able to help you learn more about politics. Walking through the hallways of the palace, you move towards a tea room that you discovered while exploring the palace. Queen Elora had been seated inside, with an older woman who resembled her. While you did not intrude, the Queen had found you much later and invited you to join her whenever you wanted to. Now, as you arrive at the tea room, you notice that Queen Elora is already seated inside the tea room. A low table sits before her, laden with a teapot and porcelain cups. Her eyes widen as you stand at the threshold and she smiles. "$name," she greets. "What a lovely surprise. Will you join me for some tea?" <<set $chp3_pol_landing to 0>> [["I hope you do not mind," you say, returning her smile with your own.|chp3_pol_landing1][$chp3_pol_landing +=1, $eloraRel +=3]] [[♡"I... yes," you murmur, flushing under her attention.|chp3_pol_landing1][$chp3_pol_landing +=2, $eloraRel +=3, $eloraRom +=3, $shy_elora +=5]] [[♡"I could not refuse such an offer," you answer with a smirk.|chp3_pol_landing1][$chp3_pol_landing +=3, $eloraRel +=3, $eloraRom +=3, $bold_elora +=5]] [["If you insist," you reply, shrugging.|chp3_pol_landing1][$chp3_pol_landing +=4, $eloraRel +=3, $eloraRoma +=3]] [["I thought you were never going to offer," you grumble.|chp3_pol_landing1][$chp3_pol_landing +=5, $eloraRel -=3]]

You decide that it would be best to increase your combat skills. After all, you have faced many dangers since fleeing Salt Bay and if the confrontation with the Blood Guardsman taught you anything, it is that you are woefully unprepared to deal with another brush with the Blood Guard. <<if $night_one is 2>> Following the same path you had taken to the training yard, after your nightmare, you soon arrive at the training yard.<<else>>It takes you some time to find the training yard, and after a few wrong turns, you arrive.<</if>> The training yard is occupied by a few guards, or perhaps recruits is a better term for them since they wear plain leather armour. To the side, you spot Sir Oren watching over them as Nerena barks orders to the recruits. He turns and catches your eyes before approaching you. "$name," he greets, a warm smile spreading across his lips. "What brings you here?" "I was hoping to improve my combat skills," you answer. Sir Oren inspects you, nodding. "Of course. Though perhaps you would like to wear something more than a tunic?" [[Next.|chp3_2c_3]]

<<set $library_list to false>>Although you had not joined Prince Irus earlier when he had asked for your help, you decide to visit the royal library, hoping that Prince Irus is still there. The path to the library is a long one and you find yourself getting lost down a few hallways before you reach the expansive room. Entering through the large, double doors, you are greeted by the sight of rows of books, the shelves reaching to the ceiling. A palace librarian glances at you and nods in greeting. You nod, scanning the library for any sign of Prince Irus. The library is nearly empty, but it proves difficult to locate the Prince. Stepping deeper into the room, you hear a snort. You frown, turning towards the sound. Asleep, using a pile of books as a pillow, you find Prince Irus hunched over a wooden table. He is asleep, snoring slightly, as you approach him. <<set $chp3_lead_landing to 0>> [[You shake him awake, amused by the sight of the sleeping Prince.|chp3_lead_landing1][$chp3_lead_landing +=1]] [[♡You study Prince Irus for a moment, taken aback by his handsomeness.|chp3_lead_landing1][$chp3_lead_landing +=2]] [[♡You gaze longingly at his appearance as you reach out to wake the sleeping Prince.|chp3_lead_landing1][$chp3_lead_landing +=3]] [[You roll your eyes in irritation as you shake Prince Irus awake.|chp3_lead_landing1][$chp3_lead_landing +=4]] [[You sigh as you nudge Prince Irus awake.|chp3_lead_landing1][$chp3_lead_landing +=5]]

As you return to your chamber, finally alone once again, you find your mind drifting to the past week. It has been an eventful two weeks for you, one where you have lost your home and in the same breath, found shelter in a palace. But perhaps it is discovering that you have had family in Vinia this entire time that has been the most surprising. It is true that when you first met your grandmother and Zikar, you had felt <<if $chp2_77 is 1>>confused<<elseif $chp2_77 is 2>>overwhelmed, but happy<<elseif $chp2_77 is 3>>happy<<elseif $chp2_77 is 4>>conflicted, feeling many different things<</if>>. Now that you have had time to process everything you feel... <<set $family_feels to 0>> [[...hopeful that you will be able to get to know your family better.|chp3_4][$family_feels +=1]] [[...excited, wanting to spend more time with your family.|chp3_4][$family_feels +=2]] [[...excited to be spending more time with your family, though it is tainted with the knowledge that neither of your parents are here to enjoy the same luxury.|chp3_4][$family_feels +=3]] [[...apprehensive about spending more time with your family. What if they do not like you?|chp3_4][$family_feels +=4]] [[...nervous about spending more time with your family - you have only ever known Ahlf and Mama.|chp3_4][$family_feels +=5]] [[...unsure of how to feel about all of this.|chp3_4][$family_feels +=6]]

<<if $chp3_lead_landing is 1>> You shake him awake, amused by the sight of the sleeping Prince. Reaaching out, you grip Prince Irus' shoulder and shake it gently. For a moment, you think that he will not awaken. A moment passes before Prince Irus mumbles, his eyes fluttering open. There is a second or two, of confusion before Prince Irus sits upright, his eyes widening at your sight. "$name," he exclaims. He rubs his face. "What are you doing here?" You notice the way he rubs his eyes, the fatigue that had plagued him, now easing its grip on his features. "I thought I would join you after all," you reply. Taking a seat, you notice the piles of books laid out against the table. "Though it seems that you decided to take a break." Prince Irus shakes his head, frowning. "I was only taking a short nap." You squint, noticing dried flecks of drool on his chin. "It looks like more than a nap." A sheepish expression flashes through his eyes and Prince Irus looks away from your pointed gaze. Shaking his head, Prince Irus sits up straighter, smoothing his hair back. "I'm awake," he says. "Now, will you help me?" You laugh, "I suppose I must." <<elseif $chp3_lead_landing is 2>> You study Prince Irus for a moment, taken aback by his handsomeness. The is something magnificent about him. It is the way his breathing comes out steady, the way the loose strands of his hair covers his forehead and the way the sight of him causes your heartbeat to race. You stare at him, unable to look away from his sleeping face, feeling your own cheeks heat at the sight of him like this. Perhaps, even in his sleep, his must sense your gaze because soon, Prince Irus' eyes flutter open. For a moment, confusion fills the blue of his eyes, before his gaze settles onto you. "$name," he breathes. You shudder, his voice deep and husky as he says your name. Prince Irus sits up, his eyes unwavering as he gazes at you. It is a stare that causes your skin to erupt in goose pimples. You look away, unable to meet his stare so steadily. "You came," he says. You hear the smirk in his voice, as he leans closer. "Couldn't stay away, hm?" You jump back, his proximity suddenly too close. "I-I just wanted to help." Prince Irus chuckles, "Yes, let's call what this is, help." <<elseif $chp3_lead_landing is 3>> You gaze longingly at his appearance as you reach out to wake the sleeping Prince. Your fingers brush against his hair first, soft under your touch and fragrant with the scent of argan oil. Is is wrong to enjoy him this close, while he sleeps? The thought is interrupted when Prince Irus' eyes open. Drawing your hand back, you stare at him, feeling a thrill of anticipation run through you. He lifts his head, blue eyes suddenly alert as they roam over your face, before settling on your mouth. His eyes flash with something darker, something akin to desire and your stomach coils. "Why did you stop, $name?" he asks, voice low and husky. Your hand reaches out for his face and you feel a surge of pleasure at the sight of Prince Irus' eyes on you. Cupping his face in your hand, you trace the side of his chin, feeling the light stubble scrape against the pad of your palm. "I thought you were researching," you murmur. "But it seems you were sleeping." Prince Irus' eyes find yours again. "It is only because you were not here to keep me awake." You laugh, drawing your hand back. "Very well. I will help you." <<elseif $chp3_lead_landing is 4>> You roll your eyes in irritation as you shake Prince Irus awake. Your hand curls around his shoulder as you shake the Prince. Instantly, Prince Irus shoots up in his seat, letting out a shout. The palace librarian casts you both a severe look and you frown, as you turn your attention back onto Prince Irus. "I thought you were learning about leadership styles," you say. Prince Irus frowns at your hard tone, his eyes shifting towards the books splayed out around him. "I was," he replies. "You were sleeping," you grumble. Prince Irus scowls. "It's not my fault that reading is so boring." You frown, taking a seat beside him. "You need to focus, otherwise, none of the councillors will want to help you." "I know that," Prince Irus grumbles, though he manages to look contrite. <<elseif $chp3_lead_landing is 5>> You sigh as you nudge Prince Irus awake. For a moment, Prince Irus doesn't move and you consider shaking him a little harder, but his eyes flutter open. You take a seat beside him, noticing the books splayed out across the table. "$name," Prince Irus mumbles. "What are you doing here?" You glance at Prince Irus, noting the way his blue eyes are bleary with sleep. He sits up straighter, under your stare and smooths down his hair with a sheepish grin. "I thought you could use some help," you answer. "It seems like you need it." Prince Irus nods. "I do." "Very well," you answer. "Let's see what we can manage today." <</if>> [[Next.|chp3_2a4]]

<<if $chp3_pol_landing is 1>> "I hope you do not mind," you say, returning her smile with your own. Queen Elora's smile widens, her eyes alight with something warm and friendly. "Of course not. I would not have offered if I minded." You take a seat across from her, your eyes taking in the large teapot, steaming with honeyed tea. Queen Elora notices your stare and sits up, pouring you a cup before handing it to you. "I did not think you would be serving me tea," you say. "Would it not be the other way around?" Queen Elora lets on an amused snort, unladylike in its sound. "You are my guest, $name. It is simply good manners to offer your guest some tea." You accept the cup gratefully, bringing the steaming liquid to your lips. It is hot, but not enough to scald you. Sipping at your cup, you taste honey and note of something floral. "It is jasmine tea," Queen Elora comments. "My mother thinks it is too sweet, but I enjoy the taste." <<elseif $chp3_pol_landing is 2>> "I... yes," you murmur, flushing under her attention. Queen Elora takes note of your flustered face and her lips quirk up into a wide smile. You cannot meet her gaze, as you move to take a seat across from her. Queen Elora leans forward, her eyes finding yours. The emotion in her gaze is warm, softening as she traces your features. "There is no need to be so flustered, $name," she breathes. "I do not bite." You shake your head, trying to speak but finding that your voice has lodged itself deep in your throat. "Oh, do you prefer biting?" she asks, her expression filled with innocence. "No!" you blurt, feeling your heart racing. "I-I... mean that is not that I think you biting is unpleasant. I only mean to say that, we should drink the tea before it gets too cold." Queen Elora laughs, delighted by your response. "Very well, let us drink some tea." <<elseif $chp3_pol_landing is 3>> "I could not refuse such an offer," you answer with a smirk. Queen Elora's eyebrows raise as she takes in your tone, filled with promises of what is to come. As you take your seat across from her, you sense her gaze on you. Turning to meet her eyes, you are rewarded by the look of appreciation in Queen Elora's dark eyes, as she drinks in your appearance. "I must admit, $name," she murmurs. "You do look quite good like this." You raise an eyebrow, leaning closer. "I suppose I have you to thank. Without your generosity, I would still be wearing my old clothes." Queen Elora lets out a breath, her eyes meeting yours. "I do believe you would look good no matter what you wear." Your smirk widens as you gaze at Queen Elora, taking in the eagerness in her eyes and the way she stares at you. It sends a thrill down your spine, one that causes your stomach to coil with anticipation. "Is that so?" you ask. Queen Elora's eyes shift along your features. "Yes, I do believe so." <<elseif $chp3_pol_landing is 4>> "If you insist," you reply, shrugging. Queen Elora nods at you as she responds, "Of course. Please, take a seat." You move to sit across from Queen Elora, taking note of the low table. A teapot sits atop the table, steaming with a sweet fragrance. Queen Elora notices your look, before gesturing to the teapot. "Do help yourself, $name," she says. Without further prompting, you reach out and pur yourself a cup of tea. It emits a floral scent and when you sip from your cup, you are rewarded with a honeyed sweetness. "Jasmine tea," Queen Elora explains. "It is one of my favourites, because of its sweetness." As you sip at the steaming liquid, you cannot help but agree with the Queen's assessment. <<elseif $chp3_pol_landing is 5>> "I thought you were never going to offer," you grumble. Queen Elora frowns at you, her eyes flashing with irritation at your tone. But in a second, the expression is gone and Queen Elora offers you a tight smile. "I apologise," she replies. "Please, do sit." You take the proffered seat across from Queen Elora, before reaching over and pouring yourself a cup of tea. It emits a floral scent and when you sip at the steaming liquid, you find that it has been sweetened with honey. "It is jasmine tea," she explains. "I enjoy it sweet and-" You wave away her words, uninterested in learning about tea. After all, you came here for a specific purpose. "It is tea," you say. "I do not care to know more." Queen Elora purses her lips, unable to hide her frustration. "Yes, I see." <</if>> [[Next.|chp3_2b_4]]

<<if $family_feels is 1>> Now that you have had time to process everything you feel hopeful that you will be able to get to know your family better. Though you have not spent much time with Siduri or Zikar, you hope that you will be able to learn more about them and perhaps, in the process, learn more about your past. <<elseif $family_feels is 2>> Now that you have had time to process everything you feel excited, wanting to spend more time with your family. Since your father's death, you have been alone. Yet, the prospect of spending time with a family you have only just discovered leaves you feeling giddy with excitement. <<elseif $family_feels is 3>> Now that you have had time to process everything you feel excited, wanting to spend more time with your family. It is a thrilling prospect to know that you will be able to spend more time with your family, especially one you did not know you had until now. The thought brings a smile to your lips, knowing that you are no longer alone anymore. <<elseif $family_feels is 5>> Now that you have had time to process everything you nervous about spending more time with your family - you have only ever known Ahlf and Mama. For as long as you can remember, it has only been you and Mama or you and Ahlf. You do not know what to expect with a larger family who are as strange to you as you might be to them. <<elseif $family_feels is 4>> Now that you have had time to process everything you feel apprehensive about spending more time with your family. What if they do not like you? It is a worry that grips you fiercely. You have spent so much of your life in Salt Bay that it is hard to know what being a part of a family is like. Perhaps, you will say something that offends them or perhaps, after realising that you are nothing more than a fisherman's $heir, they will want nothing to do with you? <<elseif $family_feels is 6>> Now that you have had time to process everything you feel unsure of how to feel about all of this. You have spent most of your life with only vague memories of Mama and stilted conversations with Ahlf. It has been lonely, and yet, you do not know how to feel about your newly discovered family. It is hard to process your thoughts, the swirling emotions that compete with each other for dominance. <</if>> Your thoughts fill your mind, even as you find yourself curled under the covers of the silken blankets. Sleep comes sooner than you expected, pulling you under. You can only hope that this feeling of safety, a moment of calm does not come to an end. [[Next.|chp3_5]]

<div class="timeline">The Banquet Hall.</div> <<set $location to "The Banquet Hall in the Great Palace of Aspal.">> The early rays of the mid-morning sun filters through the wide, arched windows of the large chamber. You are standing in the banquet hall, a large room with windows that reach up to the ceilings. Before you, you watch as servants and attendants, hurry about, cleaning and setting out vases and large tables. Somehow, you found yourself being ushered to help Queen Elora with organising the banquet. Prince Irus claimed that he was too busy visiting Aspal today, though you suspect it was simply an excuse to get out of helping. Still, you agreed to help because... <<set $chp3_5 to 0>> [[...you wanted to spend more time with Queen Elora.|chp3_6][$chp3_5 +=1]] [[...you think of Queen Elora often and the thought of being in her presence sent a warm feeling through you.|chp3_6][$chp3_5 +=2]] [[...you wanted to be more useful and help out with the banquet.|chp3_6][$chp3_5 +=3]] [[...you wanted to spend more time with Queen Elora, though you also wanted to be more useful and help with the banquet.|chp3_6][$chp3_5 +=4]] [[...you had nothing else to do.|chp3_6][$chp3_5 +=5]] [[...you felt like you did not have any other choice but to agree.|chp3_6][$chp3_5 +=6]]

<<if $chp3_5 is 1>> You agreed to help because you wanted to spend more time with Queen Elora. She has become a welcoming presence in Aspal, seeming unbothered of your Ishari heritage. Though the city of Aspal has boasted a multicultural diversity, you had not known what to expect from Queen Elora. She is becoming a fast friend, at least, you would like to think that she considers you as a friend as well. When you were asked to assist Queen Elora in organising the banquet, you had agreed happily since it would mean spending more time with the witty Queen. <<elseif $chp3_5 is 2>> You agreed to help today because your mind has been filled with thoughts of the Queen. Perhaps it is a little too early to admit that you might have definite feelings for Queen Elora, but the idea of spending more time with her was an opportunity you could not resist. <<if $night_one is 3>> You can only think of the night you spent with her in the palace gardens, taking in her vulnerability and soft voice. She had been nothing like the regal woman you met when you first arrived at the palace and you cannot deny that the you would like to learn more apsects of her personality.<<else>>You think about what you have learnt of Queen Elora over the week that you have spent in the palace. She is nothing like what you would imagine most rulers to be. You have seen her greeting attendants by name, pausing to ask them about their lives. There is a genuine compassion in the way that she leads and you are hopeful to learn more about her.<</if>> <<elseif $chp3_5 is 3>> You agreed to help organise the banquet because you wanted to feel more useful. It is a strange feeling, to be surrounded by such opulence without having done much to earn it. being attended to all the time, means that you do not have to worry about where your next meal is coming from or whether or not you will be safe from harm. It is unusual to be this bored, when there seems to be so much being done around you so when you were asked to help, you heartily agreed. You wanted to do something more useful than lazing around the palace lounges, being served tea and pastries. Still, your decision was also influenced by the urge to help with preparations for the banquet. After all, it will be the place where Prince Irus will have to convince the councillors to support him. <<elseif $chp3_5 is 4>> You agreed to help with the banquet because you had wanted to spend more time with Queen Elora. The young Queen has become a bright presence, one of kindness and companionship though it was not the only reason why you agreed to help. Spending this much time in the palace, you have not had much to do. When you were asked for help, you eagerly agreed, wanting to be more useful and to help with the preparations for the banquet that you know will be very important when Prince Irus tries to earn the support of Queen Elora's councillors. <<elseif $chp3_5 is 5>> Coming to the palace, you realised that there is not much for you to do. In Salt Bay, you were always busy, whether it be from keeping the cottage tidy or gutting the fish Ahlf caught, you never really had moments to yourself. Now, surrounded by the opulence of the palace, you have discovered that there is nothing for you to do. Most days, you have spent lazing around in one of the many palace lounges, drinking hot tea and eating honeyed and savoury pastries. When you were asked to help out with the banquet, you had agreed more to stave off your boredom than anything else. <<elseif $chp3_5 is 6>> You agreed to help out with the banquet because you felt as though you had no other choice. While Prince Irus and Queen Elora were good friends, you know that her support of him is conditional. If Prince Irus fails to impress any of her councillors, there is a good chance that Queen Elora will stop offering you aid and shelter in Aspal. When you were asked to help, you agreed, fearing that a refusal might be taken negatively by the young Queen. After all, you are simply someone Prince Irus travelled with and if you upset Queen Elora, there is no telling how she would react. <</if>> [[Next.|chp3_7]]

Your thoughts are forgotten as you spot Queen Elora, standing to the side of the room. Her eyebrows are furrowed as she stares at swathes of material that a few of the servants hold up. She looks up then, perhaps sensing your gaze or perhaps, frustrated with having to host a banquet, and notices you. "$name," she calls, relief spreading through her face. "Come, look at these." You walk towards where Queen Elora stands. Today, the young Queen wears a a loose tunic, over cotten pants that flow widely around her ankles. Over her tunic, she wears a heavily embroidered coat, the rich blue, adorned with golden beads and threading. It is different from her usual dresses, though no less impressive. "I need your help," Queen Elora sighs. "I need to choose which drapes to use for the banquet." You glance at the three servants, each holding a different material in their arms. One carries a rich, velvet fabric that is a dark red, nearly black in appearance. The second holds a light, airy fabric that is more netted and lace, that material. Glancing at the final servant, you notice a golden material, beaded and extravagent, reminding you of the palace itself. "This is something my mother usually does," Queen Elora explains. "But she is otherwise occupied and so, the planning has been left to me. What do you think, should we use red, lace or gold drapes?" <<set $chp3_7 to 0>><<set $drapes to "unknown">> [["I think the red drapes would be best," you answer.|chp3_8][$chp3_7 +=1, $drapes to "red"]] [["The lace drapes look the best to me," you reply.|chp3_8][$chp3_7 +=2, $drapes to "lace"]] [["I like the gold drapes the best," you say.|chp3_8][$chp3_7 +=3, $drapes to "gold"]] [["I really cannot choose," you respond, conflicted by the choices.|chp3_8][$chp3_7 +=4, $drapes to "gold"]] [["I do not care about drapes," you mutter. "Why can you not just choose?"|chp3_8][$chp3_7 +=5, $drapes to "gold"]]

<<if $chp3_7 is 1>> "I think the red drapes would be best," you answer. You glance at the deep, wine red fabric as you speak. Queen Elora nods at your words, before she smiles widely. She gestures to the servant, carrying the red drapes. "Right, we'll go with the red drapes," she says. "Thank you for helping, $name." <<elseif $chp3_7 is 2>> "The lace drapes look the best to me," you reply. The material is delicate and reminds you of clouds as you point towards them. Queen Elora follows your gaze, nodding in response before a smile settles across her lips. "Right then," she says. "We'll go with the lace drapes. Thank you for helping me make the decision, $name." <<elseif $chp3_7 is 3>> "I like the gold drapes the best," you say. The material is elegant and shimmers under the sunlight as you choose it. Queen Elora glances at the gold drapes, nodding in response before smiling. "Yes, the gold drapes would be best," she says. "Thank you $name for helping me choose." <<elseif $chp3_7 is 4>> "I really cannot choose," you respond, conflicted by the choices. You are unfamiliar with the different materials, so accustomed to wearing the simple, rough clothes that you had in Salt Bay. The task of choosing drapes for a banquet has left you overwhelmed by the choices presented to you. Queen Elora nods, offering you a small smile. "It is alright. I thought you might have an opinion since I too cannot choose. Never mind $name, I still appreciate your help." She points at the nearest servant, holding the golden drapes. "We'll go with the gold drapes." <<elseif $chp3_7 is 5>> "I do not care about drapes," you mutter. "Why can you not just choose?" Queen Elora frowns at your tone, glancing at the three servants. "Very well, I suppose it is my responsibility, not yours, $name," she sighs. She gestures for the servant closest to her. "The gold drapes are fine." <</if>> [[Next.|chp3_9]]

With her choice made, the servants bow lowly - an impressive feat considering the amount of material they carry in their arms, before they hurry off. Alone, or at least as alone as you can be in a room surrounded by servants and attendants, you turn to look at Queen Elora. She catches your gaze, her smile slightly strained. "If you cannot tell already, organising a banquet is not my favourite things to do," she explains. "Is that what rulers are expected to do?" you question. Queen Elora shrugs. "Perhaps, but my father was just as bad at these things too. My mother normally plans banquets and other festivities, yet another thing that we seem to bicker about." You do not get a chance to respond. A feminine voice, soft, though no less intimidating, breaks through the conversation between you and Queen Elora. "It seems that I have raised my daughter to speak poorly of her own mother." Queen Elora visibly stiffens, her face becoming a mask of indifference. You turn towards the source of the voice and find a woman, perhaps in her fifties, standing before you. There is a severe look in her dark gaze, her red lips, pulling into an unkind smile. "Mother," Queen Elora breathes. [[Next.|chp3_10]]

The woman, Queen Elora's mother, glances at you then. Her eyes scrutinise your face, before taking in the rest of your appearance. Whatever she sees in you, she must decide that she does not like it. She smiles, but there is a hardness in her eyes as she looks at you. "Ah, you must be Prince Irus' little... //friend//," she remarks. Queen Elora frowns. "Mother. This is $name." Turning to you, she explains, "This is my mother, Sovereign Amera." You look up at Sovereign Amera. Her hair is grey with age, but it does not detract from her beauty. She watches you, assessing as you realise that she is waiting for some semblance of a bow from you. <<set $chp3_10 to 0>> [[You bow your head, because it is the polite thing to do.|chp3_11][$chp3_10 +=1, $ameraRel +=5]] [[You bow your head, because you want to make a good impression on Queen Elora's mother.|chp3_11][$chp3_10 +=2, $ameraRel +=5]] [[You arch an eyebrow, unimpressed by Sovereign Amera.|chp3_11][$chp3_10 +=3, $ameraRel -=5]] [[You refuse to bow to this pompous woman.|chp3_11][$chp3_10 +=4, $ameraRel -=5]]

<<if $chp3_10 is 1>> You bow your head, because it is the polite thing to do. As you bow, you notice the slight tug of Sovereign Amera's lips. She does not outwardly smile at you, nothing with warmth, but the harsh look in her gaze has softened. "$name," she greets. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance. It is good to see that you have some sense of propriety, given your upbringing." <<elseif $chp3_10 is 2>> You bow your head, because you want to make a good impression on Queen Elora's mother. She might not be the ruler of Vinia, but even you know that Sovereign Amera holds great importance to the kingdom. As you bow your head, you glance at Queen Elora, noting the slight smile she offers you. "Perhaps you have some sense of propriety after all," Sovereign Amera comments. "After all, I was uncertain what to expect, given your upbringing." <<elseif $chp3_10 is 3>> You arch an eyebrow, unimpressed by Sovereign Amera. Unmoving, you gaze at Sovereign Amera with a raised eyebrow. You may not be anyone important, with wealth or titles to your name, but you will not be cowed by someone as entitled as Queen Elora's mother. Sovereign Amera narrows her eyes at you, her lips pulling into a deeper frown as she regards you. She wears a look of thinly veiled contempt and you do your best not to bristle under her glare. "$name," she says. "It seems that my estimations of you are correct. Your upbringing has taught you nothing of propriety." <<elseif $chp3_10 is 4>> You refuse to bow to this pompous woman. While it will not win you any favours, you refeuse to bow to someone as entitled as Sovereign Amera. By the way her eyes narrow into a glower, you have a feeling that she dislikes you greatly. "$name," she spits. "It appears that you are as vulgar as I imagined you to be. Your upbringing has taught you nothing, I see." <</if>> The jab at your past does not go unnoticed. While you are still trying to understand how Sovereign Amera seems to know more about you than you know about her, Queen Elora steps forward, her lips pulled into a scowl. "Mother," she hisses. "I told you that $name has been instrumental in helping Iri escape Cyre." Sovereign Amera fixes her daughter with a sharp look, but does not dignify Queen Elora with a response. Instead, her dark eyes shift towards the drapes that were chosen. "You are choosing the $drapes drapes?" she asks. "That will not do at all, Petal. Have you no sense of the enormity of this banquet? It is to celebrate your birth month and to show the councillors that you are more than just-" <<if $chp3_7 is 4>> "//Mother//," Queen Elora interjects. "That is quite enough. I am happy with the choice of the drapes."<<elseif $chp3_7 is 5>>"//Mother//," Queen Elora interjects. "That is quite enough. I am happy with the choice of the drapes."<<else>>"That is quite enough, //Mother//," Queen Elora snaps. "Both $name and I chose the drapes and it is what I have decided on."<</if>> Sovereign Amera frowns, her delicately made features, filled with distaste. "I see." Queen Elora rolls her eyes. "Well since you are invested in the decor of the banquet, you should take charge. After all, I am needed in the kitchens to decide what meals we will present at the banquet." "Petal, you know I only want-" Ignoring her mother's words, Queen Elora brushes past her mother. She glances at you. "Are you coming, $name?" Not willing to spend another moment in Sovereign Amera's presence, you follow after Queen Elora. [[Next.|chp3_12]]

Outside, in the empty hallway, Queen Elora's face twists into an infuriated expression. She marches down the hallway, and you find yourself hurrying to keep up with her strides. "She always does that," she mutters. "Walking in and acting as if she knows best." Queen Elora glances at you. "I am sorry she spoke to you like that, $name. My mother is not the most welcoming of women." <<set $chp3_12 to 0>> [["It is alright," you answer. "I am used to people not being the most welcoming."|chp3_13][$chp3_12 +=1]] [[♡"Does she always speak to you like that?" you ask, upset that anyone treats her that way.|chp3_13][$chp3_12 +=2, $eloraRel +=2, $eloraRom +=2]] [[♡"I am sorry that she treats you that way," you murmur.|chp3_13][$chp3_12 +=3, $eloraRel +=2, $eloraRom +=2]] [["She is insufferable," you huff.|chp3_13][$chp3_12 +=4]] [["It must be hard, never being able to please her," you reply in empathy.|chp3_13][$chp3_12 +=5, $eloraRel +=2]]

<<if $chp3_12 is 1>> "It is alright," you answer. "I am used to people not being the most welcoming." Queen Elora comes to a stop, turning to face you with furrowed eyebrows. She reaches out as if to touch your arm, before she stops, letting her hand fall to her side. "That is not what it was, $name," she breathes. "You must believe me when I tell you that no one will ever treat you differently because of your bloodline. We are not like the people in Cyre, even my mother. When she spoke of your upbringing, she means that you are not noble." "And is that not something that bothers you as well?" you ask. This time, Queen Elora grasps your forearm in her hand. "No. Believe me. I do not care about whether you are noble or not. It is the person inside that matters. Too often, I find myself surrounded by people who have grown up with the luxury of having status, and yet, they are unbearable and selfish." You grow silent and Queen Elora smiles at you, a warm expression. "Thank you," you mumble. "You are welcome here, $name," she states. "Please do not think otherwise." <<elseif $chp3_12 is 2>> "Does she always speak to you like that?" you ask, upset that anyone treats her that way. Queen Elora pauses, her dark eyes flickering up to your gaze. She searches your expression, her eyes flashing with warmth. A smile pulls at the corners of her lips, as she regards you openly. "You do not need to grow upset on my behalf, $name," she states. "I am used to my mother's tirades. If she does not chastise me for something then she will be picking at my choice of clothes or the way I conduct myself." "Surely she must realise it hurts you," you reply, drawing closer to the Queen. "It does not seem right that she speaks to you that way." Queen Elora's eyes trace over your face, settling on your own gaze. Bringing her palm up, she lets her fingers stroke against your cheek, her touch warm against your skin. She does not draw away and you find yourself, leaning into her palm. The contact is enough to steal your breath, warming your insides with an unknown heat. "No," Queen Elora murmurs. Her breath fans against your skin. "But I am thankful for your concern, $name. Truly." She draws her hand away, smiling softly as she does. <<elseif $chp3_12 is 3>> "I am sorry that she treats you that way," you murmur. Queen Elora pauses in her strides, turning to face you with a curious look. A smile soon spreads across her lips, the sight of it causing your stomach to clench. It is hard to look away from her beauty, something that reminds you so much of the sunrise. "It is sweet of you to care about my well-being," Queen Elora murmurs. Her voice is low, barely a whisper, as she draws closer to you. You cannot move, so mesmerised by the sight of her that when she reaches out, dragging a single finger against your wrist, you are startled. Heat surges through your skin, spreading from where her touch grazed you. You suddenly cannot breathe, for her jasmine scent is suddenly overwhelming and hard to ignore. "Thank you for worrying, $name," she breathes. "It truly warms my heart." Queen Elora steps back and you can suddenly breathe again. <<elseif $chp3_12 is 4>> "She is insufferable," you huff. Queen Elora's strides come to a stop. She turns to face you, frowning though not explictly reprimanding you for your words. A sigh escapes her lips and she tugs at a loose strand of her dark hair. "I wish I could refute your claim," she responds. "But how can I? She treated you poorly and worse still, she treated me as if I am still a little girl." "She is not a pleasant woman," you agree. A laugh escapes Queen Elora's lips then, the sound unexpected and startling. She glances at you, raising an eyebrow, though you note the amusement in her expression. "You know, $name, another person might not be so brave as to insult my mother to my face," she says. You frown. "Is that your way of telling me to stop?" Queen Elora shakes her head. "No, but all means, please do continue. It is refreshing that there is someone who is not as intimidated by her as all the others are." <<elseif $chp3_12 is 5>> "It must be hard, never being able to please her," you reply in empathy. Queen Elora's steps draw to a stop. She turns, looking at you with the barest hint of a smile, but it does not reach her eyes. Reaching over, she squeezes your wrist before withdrawing her touch. "It can be," she sighs. "I suppose, after all these years, it still bothers me that she cannot accept my decisions." "I am sorry that you had to endure it for so long," you respond. Queen Elora glances at you, a smile pulling at her lips. This time, it reaches her eyes and you are pleased that you could alleviate the burden that she must feel, even if only for a moment. "You are very kind, $name," Queen Elora replies. "Thank you for saying so." <</if>> [[Next.|chp3_14]]

As the conversation lulls, a servant rushes towards where you and Queen Elora stand. She bows as she glances at Queen Elora, before offering you the same courtesy. "Apologies, Your Majesty," she breathes. "But there is a young man demanding to see your honoured guest." Queen Elora frowns. "Iri?" The servant shakes her head, before glancing at you. "It is Esteemed $name that he has called for." Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. "Me? Who wants to see-" "There you are cousin." You look up, catching a glimpse of Zikar. The servant looks frantically between Queen Elora and Zikar, uncertain on how to react. Queen Elora glances at you, raising an eyebrow. "You know this man?" she asks. "I suppose," you reply. "He is my cousin." [[Next.|chp3_15]]

Dismissing the servant with a nod, Queen Elora watches as Zikar saunters down the hallway, as if this is where he truly belongs. His eyes flash towards you and you cannot tell whether he is impressed that you are with the Queen or if he is mocking in his look. "Ah, cousin," Zikar greets. "It is good to see you once again. Ama sends her love." "How did you get inside the palace?" you ask, peering over his shoulder. But Zikar ignores you, his eyes moving towards Queen Elora. There is a gleam in his eye, one that speaks of more than simple admiration. When Zikar bows, it is with a flourish and he bends so low, you suspect his nose might be touching the floor. "Your Majesty," he greets. "It is an honour to meet you once again." Queen Elora frowns. "I am sorry, but I do not think we have ever met." Zikar's eyes twinkle with amusement. "Perhaps I am mistaken then. Do forgive me." Queen Elora smiles, before looking at you. "Nerena advised me that you had met some family during your tour of Aspal. This is your cousin then?" "Yes," you answer. "He is." Queen Elora nods, looking between you and Zikar. "Perhaps I should visit the kitchens on my own then. I was being honest earlier. I still need to decide what meals to include at the banquet, especially given the amount of guests." Zikar leans forward, grinning. "I think I may have a solution to your troubles, Your Majesty. Do you perhaps, enjoy Ishari cuisine?" [[Next.|chp3_16]]

<div class="timeline">The bazaar, Ishari District.</div> <<set $location to "Ishari District, Aspal.">> It turns out that Queen Elora does enjoy Ishari food, so much so that she did not refuse your cousin's offer to visit his father's market at the bazaar. She hastily changed into a dull outfit, resembling something you would have worn in Cyre and pulled a dark hood over her head, to hide her face, before you left the palace. The last time you were in the bazaar, it had been hot and crowded and this time is no different. Despite the heat, many people crowd along the streets, bartering and selling their wares. Zikar leads you away from the centre of the bazaar, towards a row of stalls and markets where you are greeted by scents familiar and unfamiliar. You soon realise that this street mostly harboured food stalls. Zikar chats away pleasantly enough, before drawing you into a small building, made of wood. Inside is cooler and you notice several tables set up, filled with customers. "$name. You are here." It is Siduri who calls to you, the woman you now know as your grandmother. She smiles widely, drawing you into a tight embrace, despite her small size. "Come, sit," she says. "It is so nice to see you again." [["I am happy to see you again too," you answer, smiling.|chp3_17]] [[You nod in response, smiling at your grandmother.|chp3_17]] [["Zikar is the one who brought me," you reply, as you sit.|chp3_17]]

Your grandmother draws you into a chair, with such force that you are surprised when the chair does not break under your weight. Beside you, Queen Elora, now dressed far more drably than you have ever seen her, takes a seat across from you. "I see you have brought a young friend," your grandmother says. "That's good. It's nice to see you settling in so well, $name." Zikar scoffs, taking the empty seat beside you. "That's our $name, always cosying up to royals." Your grandmother frowns. "Zikar, behave. You know better than to act this way in front of guests." Zikar frowns. "Sorry Ama." "Good," your grandmother replies. "Now, let me bring you our finest meals. Your uncle Belahm is in the kitchen. He is eager to meet you, $name. Do come and say hello when you get the chance, hm?" You nod in reply as your grandmother returns through a wooden door, where you expect the kitchen must be. As you return your attention towards the table, you find both Queen Elora and Zikar engaged in some sort of debate over which meal is better, fried plantanes or warm, honey cakes. Your grandmother's words still linger in your mind about your uncle wanting to meet you. <<set $kitchen_chp3 to false>><<set $table_talk to false>> [[You decide to remain with Zikar and Queen Elora, curious about the familiarity in the way that they speak to each other.|chp3_18a][$table_talk to true]] [[You excuse yourself to visit your uncle Belahm in the kitchen.|chp3_18b][$kitchen_chp3 to true]]

Sitting at the table with Zikar and Queen Elora, you find that they are talking in low, familiar voices that takes you by surprise. Zikar seemed to know Queen Elora at the palace, but that could have just beeen because Queen Elora is the ruler of Vinia. "I am telling you that the High Baboon is where you will have the most fun," Zikar emphasises. He turns to you, eyes wide. "Tell her, cousin." Queen Elora snorts, "Do not rope $name into your deceit. Besides, $name has not even been in Aspal long enough to visit any taverns." "$name does not need to know about the High Baboon to back me up. Is that not so, cousin?" Zikar asks. <<set $chp3_18a to 0>> [["I am afraid that I have to side with Queen Elora," you reply.|chp3_18a1][$chp3_18a +=1]] [["Sorry, I have to side with family," you say to Queen Elora.|chp3_18a1][$chp3_18a +=2]] [["I am not taking anyone's side in this," you reply.|chp3_18a1][$chp3_18a +=3]]

You stand from the table, though your companions are too busy talking to notice as you step towards the kitchen. As you approach the closed door that your grandmother disappeared behind, you are hit by the aromas from the kitchen. Some are spicy and others and savoury, enough to cause your stomach to grumble. Before you can push open the wooden door, a tall man, spindly and narrow, steps out. There is a tray laden with bowls and despite his height, he does not see you through the stacked dishes. <<set $chp3_18b to 0>> [[You call out a warning to the unsuspecting man.|chp3_18b1][$chp3_18b +=1]] [[You reach out, to steady the tray the man carries.|chp3_18b1][$chp3_18b +=2]] [[You flatten yourself against the counter to avoid an inevitable collision.|chp3_18b1][$chp3_18b +=3]]

<<if $chp3_18b is 1>> "Watch out," you call. The man stops short of crashing into you, the tray rattling as the bowls tip precariously towards you. He manages to steady the tray, and lets out a relieved breath when the bowls remain atop the tray. Lowering the tray, the man peers over at you, his dark eyes scanning your face. "Customers are not allowed in the back-" He stops. Blinking, he peers closer at your face. His face is thin and his eyes are dark, nearly black. For a moment, you are uncertain whether to apologise for nearly crashing into him, but the man sets the tray on the counter and squints at you. "You are $name," he breathes. <<elseif $chp3_18b is 2>> Reaching out, you grip the sides of the tray, holding it firmly as the man lets out a confused sound. He lowers the tray, no longer wobbling with bowls that emit a spicy scent and glances at you. "Thank you stranger," he says. "But customers are not allowed in the back-" He stops suddenly. Blinking, the man peers at your face closely. His face is thin and his eyes are so dark that they could pass for black. Setting down the tray on the counter, he squints at your face. "You are $name," he murmurs. <<elseif $chp3_18b is 3>> You press your back against the counter, hoping to avoid the man and the tray of bowls that emit a spicy scent. As the man approaches, he lowers the tray slightly, his eyes widening when he notices you. "Apologies, stranger," he says. "I nearly walked into you. I am afraid that customers are not allowed in the back-" He draws to a stop, his eyebrows furrowing as he peers closely at you. Placing the tray atop the counter, he turns to squint at your features. You draw back slightly, noting the darkness of his eyes as they search your face. "You are $name," he states. <</if>> "I am," you answer. "I am sorry, I was only hoping to meet someone in the kitchen." But the man continues speaking as if he had not heard you. "Ama said that you looked just like Sal, but I did not believe her." You stiffen at the sound of a name you never thought you would hear again. No one ever called Mama by Salyra, it was always Sal or Lyra. You stare at this man, his face so similar to Zikar's that you feel foolish for not recognising him sooner. "I am Belahm," he explains. "I am Salyra's brother." [[Next.|chp3_18b2]]

Your uncle draws you behind the counter, where two wooden stools already sit. He gestures for you to sit, waiting until you do before he takes a seat across from you. Staring at your uncle, your mother's brother, you begin to recognise features of your mother's face. He must be younger than Mama, you think, because his face is only beginning to show creases at the corners of his eyes and at the edges of his smile. Your uncle reaches out, gripping your hand firmly in his. "I never thought I would see you again, $name," he breathes. You frown. "You saw me before? But, I thought you left for Vinia before I was born." Uncle Belahm smiles, though sorrow fills his gaze. "I came back to Ishari, after Sal wrote to me of your birth. I visited you when you were still too young to speak. I came back to tell your mother to return to Vinia, with me. She refused, stubborn woman." There is a fondness in your uncle's face, his words laced with the bitter memories of leaving your mother behind. He must know so much of Mama, things you have grown up never knowing. [[Next.|chp3_18b3]]

It is hard to stop your racing heart, the way that your fingers tremble in anticipation or perhaps, dread at the thought of learning more about your mother. You look up at your uncle, knowing that he will be able to tell you all about Mama and her life before you. <<linkreplace "You ask Uncle Belahm what Mama was like when she was younger." t8n>>"What was she like?" you ask. "Growing up, you must have known her well." Your uncle smiles, his eyes softening slightly. "Your mother was a handful, even when she was still a child. I remember once, she stole a tray of Ama's honey cakes. Sal said it wasn't her, but later, I caught her handing them out to the children that lived in the temple." "What temple?" you ask, confused. "The Temple of Ehulla of course," you uncle replies. "Your mother was a devoted worshipper."<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You ask Uncle Belahm about Mama's devotion to Ehulla." t8n>>You think about what your uncle said about Mama's devotion to Ehulla. Memories prickle at the back of your mind, the way Mama would whisper to you about the Ancient Ones, but they are hard to remember when you have not thought about them in years. "Mama was a worshipper of Ehulla?" you question. "She was at first," your uncle replies. "But, when she came of age, she joined the temple and soon, was made into a Priestess of Ehulla." "A Priestess?" you ask. "Hm, Ama didn't approve at first, priestesses were not always favoured in Ishari back then," your uncle explains. "They are said to be blessed by the Ancient Ones themselves."<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You question Uncle Belahm about your mother and Ahlf." t8n>>"Did you know my father?" you ask. Your uncle nods, a sad look gracing his features. "I did and I am sorry to learn of his passing, $name." He pats your hand. "If there is anything you need, you are always welcome here. We are your family, after all." You nod in thanks, though your mind still lingers on the question you wanted to ask. "What did you know about my parents' relationship?" "I..." he says, before pausing. "It was complicated, $name. I do not think either of them knew the true consequences of their relationship, not at first. Or perhaps, they both did and they pursued it anyway."<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "You bring up the time Uncle Belahm met you as a baby." t8n>>You remember what your uncle said earlier, when he had returned to Ishari to bring your mother back with him. He met you then, though you have no recollection of the memory. "You visited me, when I was still young," you murmur. "What was it like then, for my mother?" Your uncle frowns at your question, a flicker of sorrow in his eyes. "Your mother chose to remain in Ishari with you. It was not an easy life, $name and your father was already in Cyre by then. I begged your mother to return with me, but she would not listen. She said she had a plan and that this was her fate."<</linkreplace>> [[End your questioning.|chp3_18b4]]

You feel as if you have learnt a little more about Mama from your uncle, but there are still so many unanswered questions. Why did Mama not leave with the rest of her family to Vinia and why had she thought her fate belonged in Ishari? It is clear that you will not get the rest of your answers today and with the topic of your mother now put behind you, your uncle smiles warmly. "I am truly glad that you are here now, $name," your uncle says. "It is good to know that you are safe and well. Sal would have been proud to see the $gender you have become." <<set $chp3_18b4 to 0>> [[Your uncle's words bring tears to your eyes.|chp3_18b5][$chp3_18b4 +=1]] [[A surge of warmth spreads through you at your uncle's words.|chp3_18b5][$chp3_18b4 +=2]] [[You are uncertain how to react, feeling underserving of your absent mother's pride.|chp3_18b5][$chp3_18b4 +=3]] [[You frown at your uncle's words, angry that your mother could not be here to tell you hereself that she is proud.|chp3_18b5][$chp3_18b4 +=4]]

<<if $chp3_18b4 is 1>> Your eyes begin to sting at your uncle's words. You have never really thought that you would be here, listening to your uncle talk about your mother. The idea that your mother would be proud of you is enough to make your eyes burn. You blink away the gathering tears, turning away from your uncle's gaze. He seems to understand how you feel, because he pats your hand gently, offering you a smile. "It must have been hard for you, $name," he breathes. "I am sure that a life with your father in Cyre was a difficult one." <<elseif $chp3_18b4 is 2>> Warmth fills you, your uncle's words bringing a sense of comfort to you. You have not thought that you would ever be here, listening to your uncle speak. The notion that your mother would be proud of you is enough to cause your lips to pull into a smile. Noticing the expression in your face, your uncle returns your smile, patting your hand softly. "You have endured so much on your own, $name," he breathes. "I know that it must not have been easy to live with your father in Cyre." <<elseif $chp3_18b4 is 3>> You stare at your uncle, unsure of what to feel. The idea that your mother, absent for the greater part of your life, would be proud of you seems far-fetched. You do not think that you have done anything deserving of your mother's pride. For years, you were in Cyre and were it not for Prince Irus, you probably would never have left Salt Bay. Your uncle must sense your conflicting emotions, because he pats your hand gently. "Your life must have been difficult in Cyre," he breathes. "It cannot have been easy for you to remain with your father in Cyre. You endured it, $name and for that, your mother would be proud." <<elseif $chp3_18b4 is 4>> It is a bittersweet moment, knowing that your uncle means to be kind, but his words only serve as a cruel reminder that your mother abandoned you when you were still a child. Knowing that she had the opportunity to leave Ishari, to take you to Vinia, but chose not to is like a stab to your gut. It would have been far better to hear about your mother's pride for you directly from her. Your uncle seems to sense your anger and frustration, because he pats your hand gently, in a soothing motion. "It is not enough," he says. "I know it cannot be. You must have endured much in Cyre with your father. But know that we are proud of you, $name. Your Ama and Zikar." He smiles. "Even me." <</if>> [[Next.|chp3_18b6]]

"Belahm, where's our food?" The yell comes from one of the customers, seated at the far end of the room. Your uncle blinks, as if remembering that he is meant to be working. Standing up, your uncle flashes you an apologetic smile. "I am sorry $name," he says. "I am afraid that I must return to my duties. But please, come by the house sometime, hm? Your Aunty Yara would love to meet you." Your uncle hurries off, with the heavy tray he had left atop the counter earlier. You watch him for a moment, still contemplating the conversation you shared. You shake away the thoughts and return your attention to the rest of the room. <<if $table_talk is false>> [[You join Zikar and Queen Elora at the table.|chp3_18a][$table_talk to true]] <<elseif $table_talk is true and $kitchen_chp3 is true>> [[You notice your grandmother beckoning you from behind the counter.|chp3_19]] <</if>>

You move towards your grandmother, where she stands behind the wooden counter. Her eyes find yours, and her lips widen into a kind smile. "$name," she says. "There is something that I wanted to give you." "What is it?" you ask. Kneeling, your grandmother pulls a small box from under the counter. It is old, with age, the wood undyed and chipped. Despite its worn appearance, your grandmother cradles the box with care. She places it atop the counter, lifting its lid. Sitting inside the box, you notice loose pages and small ornaments, no bigger than your thumb. "These are some of your mother's things," your grandmother murmurs. "It's all I have left of Salyra." She reaches in and pulls out a golden locket. The chain is adorned with an opalescent stone set between two gems, the stone’s surface reflecting the light as it shifts from red to black while it moves. Your grandmother hands you the locket, smiling softly. "Your mother would always wear this locket," she explains. "She forgot to take it with her and by the time we had left for Vinia, it was too late to return it to her." Your grandmother curls your fingers around the locket, pressing it into your palm. "She would want you to have it, $name. Take it, to remember Salyra, hm?" <<set $chp3_19 to 0>> [["Thank you," you breathe, touched by your grandmother's gift.|chp3_20][$chp3_19 +=1]] [["This was my mother's?" you ask, staring at the locket in awe.|chp3_20][$chp3_19 +=2]] [[You cannot speak, too overcome with emotion at the sight of your mother's locket.|chp3_20][$chp3_19 +=3]] [[Your lips pull into a scowl, furious by another reminder of your mother's absence.|chp3_20][$chp3_19 +=4]] [["I see," you respond, though you do not know how to feel by this gift.|chp3_20][$chp3_19 +=5]]

<<if $chp3_18a is 1>> "I am afraid that I have to side with Queen Elora," you reply. Zikar frowns, grumbling loudly. "Of course you side with the royals. I'm starting to think that you have a thing for those inh high-up places." Queen Elora laughs in response, shooting you a pointed look. For a moment, you find yourself the end of a joke that neither your cousin or Queen Elora seem eager to let go. As you watch them, you cannot help but wonder if Zikar had been truthful earlier. Do they know each other? <<elseif $chp3_18a is 2>> "Sorry, I have to side with family," you say to Queen Elora. Zikar lets out a loud whoop of laughter, before he slings his arms over your shoulders and gathers you into a rough hug. You cannot help but note the stares of the other customers, some amused but most, annoyed. Queen Elora lets out an amused laugh, watching you and Zikar. "I suppose I cannot fault you for siding with blood," Queen Elora explains. "Though, I can tell you from experience that the High Baboon is nothing special." As Zikar begins listing reasons why the Queen is wrong, you cannot help but note the familiarity in which they speak to each other. had your cousin been truthful in the palace? Do they know each other? <<elseif $chp3_18a is 3>> "I am not taking anyone's side in this," you reply. Zikar scoffs, "Typical. I come to you in my time of aid and you choose to be neutral." Queen Elora raises an eyebrow at Zikar before she turns to you, offering you a small smile. "Do not pay Zikar much attention. He likes to talk, but none of what he says ever means anything." Spluttering, Zikar begins to protest loudly, drawing looks from the other customers. You have a feeling that if Zikar was not related to the owner, he would have been asked to leave. Returning your attention to your cousin and the Queen, you note the familiarity between in the way that they speak to each other. You wonder if Zikar had been telling the truth earlier. Do they know each other? <</if>> <<set $chp3_18a1 to 0>> [["Do you know each other?" you ask, curious at their familiarity.|chp3_18a2][$chp3_18a1 +=1]] [["You seem to speak to each other with familiarity," you note, a pang of jealousy coiling in your gut at the thought of the Queen having feelings for another.|chp3_18a2][$chp3_18a1 +=2]] [["Are you both secretly courting?" you ask, amused.|chp3_18a2][$chp3_18a1 +=3]] [["You both know each other," you accuse, annoyed that they are hiding things from you.|chp3_18a2][$chp3_18a1 +=4]]

<<if $chp3_18a1 is 1>> "Do you know each other?" you ask, curious at their familiarity. Queen Elora visibly stiffens, before she turns to face you. Her expression does not betray her true thoughts and it is hard to know whether she will be honest in her response or not. As if sensing your curiosity, Zikar rests his elbow on the table, grinning at you. "Why, does it seem like we know each other?" he asks. "Perhaps I should enlighten you, dear cousin-" "Yes," Queen Elora interrupts. "We know each other." You raise an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued. "You do? But you said that you did not recognise Zikar earlier." "When I was younger, I used to visit parts of Aspal that my mother disapproved of," she explains. "As a the ruler of Vinia, there are certain appearances that must be kept." Zikar scoffs, "She used to frequent the High Baboon for some time. That's where we met." Queen Elora sighs, "Perhaps it was the wine that clouded my judgment, but I struck up a friendship with Zikar and whenever I come to the city, I often bump into him. I did not think that he would turn out to be your family, $name. And I only denied knowing him because my mother would have gotten word of it somehow." <<elseif $chp3_18a1 is 2>> "You seem to speak to each other with familiarity," you note, a pang of jealousy coiling in your gut at the thought of the Queen having feelings for another. Queen Elora's eyes flash towards yours and for a moment, you think that she might reach out and touch your wrist. But, the moment passes and she does not reach out. Instead, Queen Elora offers you a small smile, one that reaches her dark eyes. Zikar leans onto the table, grinning widely at you. "Is that jealousy I hear in your voice, cousin? Perhaps I shall be the bearer of bad news then. The lovely Queen and I are very much in love-" "That is enough, Zikar," Queen Elora interrupts. Her eyebrows furrow and her mouth pulls into a frown. "Yes, $name, we know each other, but not in the way that Zikar suggests." "Then how do you know each other?" you ask, a surge of relief spreading through you. "When I was younger, I used to visit Aspal without the knowledge of my mother," she explains. "During my outings, I met Zikar and we became fast friends, despite my better judgment." "You're friends?" you question. "Then why did you act as if you didn't know him before?" "Yes," Zikar replies with a smirk. "Are you embarrassed of me?" Queen Elora rolls her eyes at Zikar. "Yes, you're highly embarrassing, Zikar." She turns to face you, her eyebrows furrowed. "My mother would have gotten wind of my friendship if I admitted it in the palace hallways. As you know, she can be a lot to deal with." <<elseif $chp3_18a1 is 3>> "Are you both secretly courting?" you ask, amused. Queen Elora splutters, her eyes widening in horror at your question. You frown, reaching out to steady her as she regains her composure. When she glances at Zikar, noting his wry expression, she lets out a laugh. It does not abate for some time and you notice the way the other customers stare at her curiously. "Alright," Zikar grumbles. "It was an honest assumption to make." Queen Elora chuckles, "Oh $name, I have not laughed that much in ages." "So you are not courting?" you ask. "Courting Zikar?" Queen Elora questions. "I would rather court a sheep in a suit." "I am right here, you know," Zikar huffs. "And I will have you know that many people would love to court me." "You mean Ettie?" you ask, thinking about the time you visited your family's home. "Not just Ettie," Zikar retorts, frowning at you. "Look, it does not matter. Me and Ellie met at the High Baboon once. Then every time she snuck out of the palace, we'd go out and explore Aspal." Queen Elora nods. "It is true, $name." <<elseif $chp3_18a1 is 4>> "You both know each other," you accuse, annoyed that they are hiding things from you. Queen Elora frowns at your tone, but to your surprise, Zikar manages to offer you a look of contrition. He leans against the table, glancing at you. "We meant no harm, cousin," he says. "It is just something that we are used to." "Used to?" you ask, frowning. "$name," Queen Elora calls. "It is as Zikar says. When I was younger, I would often visit Aspal without my mother's knowledge. We met at the High Baboon and despite my better judgment became friends." "Why did you not just tell me?" you question. Queen Elora shrugs. "Habit, I suppose. I am not meant to be visiting taverns or hookah lounges. It is quite improper for a ruler of Vinia. And denying knowledge of ZIkar is always safer than admitting to know him. After all, if my mother caught wind of it, she would have lectured me for months to come." <</if>> [[Next.|chp3_18a3]]

The revelation of Queen Elora and Zikar's friendship is momentarily broken, as your grandmother brings out trays of food. There are bowls of roasted fowl and onions, soaking in spiced gravy and plates heaped with stacked flat bread, crispy and emitting the aroma of herbs. In another dish, you find leeks, grilled and smothered in garlic, along with braised lentils and cauliflower. You lose count of the many dishes your grandmother places atop the table, but each emits an aroma that causes a light gurgle in your stomach. "Ama," Zikar says. "This is too much." Your grandmother frowns at Zikar. "Nonsense. $name must eat and $MChe has brought a friend too." Queen Elora smiles at your grandmother. "Thank you for your generosity." "It is no trouble at all," your grandmother replies. "Now eat. If you are still hungry, send Zikar to the kitchen and I'll bring out more dishes." [[Next.|chp3_18a4]]

For the next few minutes, your table is only filled with the sounds of chewing and slurping. You cast a glance at Queen Elora and watch as she avoids any of the meat dishes. She catches your gaze and smiles. "I do not eat any meat," she explains. "I find it hard to enjoy it when I can only think of the animals they used to be." Zikar chews loudly, before speaking. "Suit yourself," he replies. "It just means that there is more for me and $name." <<if $MC_veg is true>> "I too do not eat meat," you say. Zikar frowns. "Fine, then I will eat all the meat here." Queen Elora catches your gaze and shoots you a smile.<<elseif $MC_pes is true>>"I tend to eat fish, but I do not eat red meat," you explain. "How interesting," Queen Elora comments, smiling at you. Zikar scoffs, "No it's not. Pass the red meat to me then. I will eat it by myself."<<else>>"It is true that I eat anything," you say. Queen Elora nods in response, smiling at you. "Good to hear," Zikar exclaims. "Maybe now, we will be able to finish the meal."<</if>> [[Next.|chp3_18a5]]

Eventually, when you are done eating, your stomach too full for another bite, your turn your attention to your companions. Zikar leans back, patting his stomach while Queen Elora rests her elbows against the table. "Your family are quite good cooks," Queen Elora remarks. "Considering that some of the guests of the banquet do enjoy Ishari cuisine, how would your father and grandmother feel if I placed a large order for the banquet?" "They would be happy for the business, but even happier if I was perhaps, invited as well," Zikar suggests. Queen Elora raises an eyebrow at Zikar's suggestion. "I suppose that can be arranged." Zikar flashes a grin, glancing at you. "Looks like we'll be spending more time together, cousin." His words leave you feeling... <<set $chp3_18a5 to 0>> [[...excited, because you want to spend more time with Zikar.|chp3_18a6][$chp3_18a5 +=1]] [[...conflicted, as you might not have time for Zikar since the banquet is where you will be focussing on helping Prince Irus.|chp3_18a6][$chp3_18a5 +=2]] [[...annoyed, as you really dislike having to spend more time with Zikar.|chp3_18a6][$chp3_18a5 +=3]] [[...unbothered, as you do not mind if Zikar attends the banquet or not.|chp3_18a6][$chp3_18a5 +=4]]

<<if $chp3_18a5 is 1>> You return Zikar's smile, as your excitement builds. While you have been in Aspal for a little over a week, you have not been able to spend much time with your cousin. With him attending the banquet, you hope to spend more time with him and to better your relationship. <<elseif $chp3_18a5 is 2>> You nod at Zikar's smile, though you feel a little worried that you might not have enough time to spend with Zikar. While he is your family, you still are focussed on helping Prince Irus gain the support of the councillors who will be present at the banquet. It will be a difficult thing, having to split your time between Zikar and Prince Irus at the banquet. <<elseif $chp3_18a5 is 3>> You frown at Zikar's grin, sighing. As much as Zikar is your family, you cannot deny that his presence irritates you greatly. He is too headstrong and too loud, and perhaps it is because he called you Prince Irus' servant when you first met, but something about Zikar just annoys you. Knowing that he will be at the banquet as well, only makes you dread having to attend. <<elseif $chp3_18a5 is 4>> You glance at Zikar's smile and shrug. Whether Zikar attends the banquet or not does not really bother you. You have no strong feelings on the matter and do not mind that Queen Elora agreed to invite him to the banquet. <</if>> As you glance away from your table, you find your eyes sweeping over the rest of the small eatery. It is clear that your family have managed to establish a home here in Vinia. A place //you// can call home. But still, as if your gaze were being tugged to a more interesting spot, it returns to your group and lingers there. Queen Elora and Zikar are speaking about the banquet and while their conversation is filled with teasing barbs and familiarity, you find your eyes returning to the rest of the room. <<if $kitchen_chp3 is false>> [[You decide to meet your uncle, Belahm.|chp3_18b][$kitchen_chp3 to true]] <<elseif $kitchen_chp3 is true and $table_talk is true>> [[You see your grandmother beckoning you closer from behind the counter.|chp3_19]]<</if>>

<<if $chp3_19 is 1>> "Thank you," you breathe, touched by your grandmother's gift. The locket is heavy in your palm, the dark stone, smooth and oval in shape. You stare at it, this link to your mother which has been absent for most of your life and cannot help the overwhelming surge of gratitude towards your grandmother. You look up at her, smiling. "You do not need to thank me, $name," your grandmother replies. "The locket is rightfully yours. I am certain that Salyra would have wanted you to have it." "Thank you," you repeat. <<elseif $chp3_19 is 2>> "This was my mother's?" you ask, staring at the locket in awe. It is heavy in your palm, the stone a smoothed oval that changes colour when you turn it over in your hand. Your grandmother smiles at you, as she pats your wrist gently. "She would wear it often," your grandmother explains. "I know that she would want you to have it, $name. Perhaps it will be a good reminder of Salyra." You nod, running your thumb over the stone, still in disbelief that you are in possession of your mother's locket. <<elseif $chp3_19 is 3>> You cannot speak, too overcome with emotion at the sight of your mother's locket. It is hard to form words, when your throat constricts painfully at the sight of your mother's locket. You have spent years not knowing what happened to your mother and now, you hold a piece of your mother's past. Your grandmother smiles at you, her fingers squeezing your wrist. "She would wear it often, $name. The locket is yours. Keep it, as a reminder of Salyra." You nod, swallowing a hard lump. <<elseif $chp3_19 is 4>> Your lips pull into a scowl, furious by another reminder of your mother's absence. Squeezing your fingers around the hard stone, you feel it bite into the skin of your palm. How long have you spent without your mother? She left you with Ahlf in a place that could never accept you. And now, you are supposed to be appeased by her locket? Your granmother notices your expression and leans closer. Her fingers, bony and wrinkled, clutch your wrist. "She would not have left you without reason, $name. Do not hate her for her absence." "I cannot," you reply. "You are asking me to accept her actions." "It is hard, I know," your grandmother murmurs. "Keep the locket, $name. Perhaps it will bring you some comfort in the coming days." <<elseif $chp3_19 is 5>> "I see," you respond, though you do not know how to feel by this gift. You stare at the stone, glinting red then black as you turn it over in your hands. It is a beautiful necklace, crafted finely with gold and gems. Yet, you are uncertain how to feel. You have not seen your mother in over a decade and now, being gifted with something that belonged to her seems surreal. "Salyra would always wear it," your grandmother explains. "Keep it with you, $name. Even in times of doubt, it will bring you clarity." You want to tell your grandmother that all the locket has left you feeling is unsure. Yet, her smiling face and warm expression is one that you do not have the heart to correct. So you smile, accepting the locket. <</if>> With the locket now gifted to you, your grandmother turns to you with a kind expression. Her face is warm, so unconditional in her affection that it stops your breath. Your experience in Salt Bay had not been pleasant and Ahlf, despite being your father, had lacked the ability to show you any affection that your grandmother now does. "Tell me, $name," she says. "Are you enjoying it in the palace? Are they treating you well there?" You think about you time in the palace, one of luxury and wealth, but also one where you are uncertain of your future. <<set $chp3_20 to 0>> [["I am enjoying it at the palace," your answer with a smile.|chp3_21][$chp3_20 +=1]] [["It is good to be at the palace," you reply, though you only say that so not to worry your grandmother.|chp3_21][$chp3_20 +=2]] [["It's about time I get treated the way I deserve," you chuckle. "Staying at the palace has been good."|chp3_21][$chp3_20 +=3]] [["It is odd, living in luxury," you explain. "I am unused to it."|chp3_21][$chp3_20 +=4]] [["I would prefer not to remain in the palace for longer than I must," you explain. "I do not feel like I belong there."|chp3_21][$chp3_20 +=5]]

<<if $chp3_20 is 1>> "I am enjoying it at the palace," your answer with a smile. As the words leave your lips, you realise that they are truthful. While you have not been doing much in the palace, the slower change of pace has been a welcome one. It might also have something to do with the people that you are surrounded by, but you refrain from mentioning it to your grandmother. "I am glad," she replies. "You deserve good things, $name. I only hope you visit us more often. You know, your cousin gives you a hard time but when you are not around, he constantly talks about you." You raise an eyebrow, surprised. "He does?" Your grandmother chuckles. "Yes. He might not show it, but he is happy to have someone his age around. You are family, $name and Zikar is excited to finally know you." <<elseif $chp3_20 is 2>> "It is good to be at the palace," you reply, though you only say that so not to worry your grandmother. Your words are false and you hear the hollow deceit in your tone. But your grandmother seems happy and you are grateful that she has not suspected the truth of the precarious nature of your time in the palace. While you have enjoyed the luxuries offered to you, you know that in a week, you and Prince Irus will either be given support or you will be sent away, to fend for yourselves. "I am glad to hear that, $name," your grandmother replies. "It is good to know that my grandchild is happy in the palace. I only hope that you will visit us more. You know, your cousin does not stop talking about you." "Zikar?" you ask, surprised. "Yes, Zikar," your grandmother laughs. "He might give you a hard time, but he is excited to have someone his own age to talk to. After all, the only other cousins he has are much older than him." <<elseif $chp3_20 is 3>> "It's about time I get treated the way I deserve," you chuckle. "Staying at the palace has been good." The life you've experienced at the palace has taught you that you have been living life the wrong way. After all, your old life consisted of gutting fish and cleaning the cottage. Now, you are served tea and given pastries upon your request and your clothes no longer feel rough against your skin. "I am happy to hear that," your grandmother replies. "It is good that you are enjoying it. I only hope that you will visit us again, $name. Your cousin misses you, always talking about you when you are not around." "He does?" you question, your eyebrows raising. Chuckling, your grandmother pats your hand. "He is lonely, $name. Now that you are here, he finally has a cousin around his age." <<elseif $chp3_20 is 4>> "It is odd, living in luxury," you explain. "I am unused to it." It is true. Your life in the palace has been a strange change of pace, one where you are reduced to a guest. Your clothes have been picked out for you and meals are served without you having to ask for it. When your past entailed gutting fish and wearing clothes that were rough on your skin, you have found that adjusting to life in the palace a difficult thing. "It must be different," your grandmother says. She pats your hand. "Here, we are used to hard work, but we are happy for it. But $name, you are young. Enjoy this rest and the palace and if you ever need some time away, you know that you are welcome in our home." You smile. "Thank you." "Stars know that your cousin would be happy for your visits," your grandmother chuckles. "He is excited to finally have a cousin his age." "He is?" you ask, surprised. "Zikar might say otherwise, but when you are not around, you are all he talks about," your grandmother explains. "I believe that he is jealous of your adventures." <<elseif $chp3_20 is 5>> "I would prefer not to remain in the palace for longer than I must," you explain. "I do not feel like I belong there." The splendour and servants has been jarring for you. You have not known a lifestyle like this before and you find that despite the peace and certainty of being attended to by servants, you long to leave the confines of the palace walls. It is stifling to be surrounded by such luxuries without having to work to earn them. "I am sorry to hear that, $name," your grandmother responds. "I suppose I would feel the same, stuck in a building all day with nothing to do." You nod. "My life in Salt Bay was nothing like this." "Know that if you ever want to leave the palace, our home is your home too," your grandmother explains. "You are family and we will not cast you aside." You smile. "Thank you." "Your cousin would also be glad to have you stay with us," your grandmother chuckles. "He talks about you all the time when you are not around." "He does?" you ask, surprised. Your grandmother laughs. "I think he is excited to have a cousin around his age, for once. He wants to know you better, $name." <</if>> [[Next.|chp3_22]]

"Did I hear my name?" Zikar asks, as he strides towards where you stand. Your grandmother huffs, "Always the cheeky fool." "Ama," Zikar whines. "You cannot say these things in front of-" He stops, glancing at you. You cannot be certain, but you think you see a flicker of sheepishness in his brown eyes. Perhaps your grandmother had not exaggerated when she said that Zikar wants to spend more time with you. "Calm yourself," your grandmother scolds, but there is amusement in her voice. "$name is family and will soon learn that you are cheeky." Zikar scoffs, "I do not care what $name thinks." "Why are you here?" you ask, glancing at your cousin. He stands straighter, before he responds. "Our mutual friend needs to return home." You notice Queen Elora, still shrouded in her disguise, though she wrings her hands together. Remembering the banquet that she was supposed to be planning, you realise that you have spent far too long outside the palace. You only hope that the Queen's guards do not think you have abducted her. "It is late," your grandmother agrees. "You can return to us another day, $name." She looks at Zikar pointedly. "Walk with your cousin and $MChis friend and look after them, Zikar." "I know, I know," Zikar grumbles as he turns to leave. [[Next.|chp3_23]]

<div class="timeline">The Great Palace of Aspal, Vinia.</div> <<set $location to "The Great Palace of Aspal, Vinia.">> You return to the palace in the late afternoon. With Zikar waving goodbye, you are left once again with Queen Elora. Together, you walk into the palace, the Queen gathering curious looks when she removes the hood hiding her face. "Most of the guards are protective of me," she explains. "Though it is still satisfying seeing them surprised when I return from the city, unaccompanied." "Do you often visit Aspal like this?" you ask. Queen Elora frowns, her eyebrows furrowing. "Not for a while, $name. But I am grateful that I got the chance to escape for today. I enjoyed your family and your company." "Your Majesty! You are safe!" Queen Elora sighs. An attendant nearly trips over his feet as he hurries towards Queen Elora. "Your mother has been asking for you," the attendant says. "You must come at once." "Very well," Queen Elora answers. She glances at you. "Please, $name. You deserve a break from helping me plan the banquet and my mother's presence." She turns away, following the attendant into the palace. You are alone once more, but your mind settles on the weight of your mother's locket. It sits inside your tunic sleeve, a reminder of what you have discovered about your mother's past. Drawing out the locket, the shimmering red stone staring at you, you decide to... <<set $locket to 0>><<set $locket_wear to false>> [[...carry it with you always as a reminder of your mother.|chp3_24][$locket +=1, $locket_wear to true]] [[...keep it safe in the jade box filled with letters that Ahlf gave you.|chp3_24][$locket +=2]] [[...wear it always, because it reminds you of your grandmother's kindness.|chp3_24][$locket_wear to true, $locket +=3]] [[...bury it deep in the jade box, never wanting to see it again.|chp3_24][$locket +=4]]

Regardless of what you do with the locket, all it does is serve as a reminder of a woman you have not seen for years. Only time will tell if the wound left by your mother's absence will ever heal. [[Next.|chp3_24_a]]

The rest of the week passes quickly, and soon, the day of the banquet arrives. Outside your chamber, the hallways are noisy with the hurried footsteps of attendants. You have spent most of your time on your own, with Prince Irus busy with preparing for meeting the councillors and the Queen occupied with Sir Oren as they finalise the security of the palace. You cannot say that you are envious of the time the others were kept busy, while you spent it on your own. Still, despite everything, you are expected to make an appearance tonight. Already, various clothing options have been set out for you and the attendant you met on the first night of your arrival, has brought in numerous accessories to choose from. After bathing and perfumed, you glance at the clothing options that have been laid out on the bed. <<set $banquet_outfit to "unknown">><<set $chp3_25 to 0>> [[You choose to wear the velvet dress, with gold beading that glitters under the firelight.|chp3_26][$banquet_outfit to "velvet dress", $chp3_25 +=1]] [[You choose the heavy robe, dark as night with golden embroidery along its hem.|chp3_26][$banquet_outfit to "black robes", $chp3_25 +=2]] [[You choose the dark trousers and the cerulean blue tunic, the material reflecting gold patterns.|chp3_26][$banquet_outfit to "blue tunic", $chp3_25 +=3]]

<<if $chp3_25 is 1>> You choose to wear the velvet dress, with gold beading that glitters under the firelight. Taking a deep breath, you smooth your fingers over the delicate material. It is soft under your touch and the colour rivals the gold of the sun. You slip on the dress, its weight heavy on your body. The skirts bunch around your ankles, loose, despite the beading along the material. Running your hands over the bodice, you are surprised by its perfect fit, though it does not press too tightly into your skin. As you turn, testing the flow of the dress, you find that it fits you well, not too tight yet somehow, it accentuates your figure under the golden material. The dress is finer than anything you have ever worn before, and you find yourself smiling at your appearance. <<elseif $chp3_25 is 2>> You choose the heavy robe, dark as night with golden embroidery along its hem. There is a deep, almost indescribable beauty to the material. It is like the night sky or something far more profound. The robe consists of two layers, one of a dark cloth and the other, embroidered with a golden trim. Fastening the robe over your form, you are pleased by the way the material drapes over you, not too tight and yet, not loose enough to slip down your shoulders. Turning, you examine the way the robe flows around your legs, the gold embroidery, nearly as thick as a rope, shimmers under the light of the oil lamps. It is far finer than anything you have ever worn and you find yourself smiling at your appearance. <<elseif $chp3_25 is 3>> You choose the dark trousers and the cerulean blue tunic, the material reflecting gold patterns. The tunic is bright, its hue signalling wealth and aristocracy that you could never have achieved in Salt Bay. You slip on the dark trousers, followed by the tunic. It is soft against your skin, the material catching the light to reflect intricate, golden patterns that catch the glow from the flickering oil lamps. The material of your tunic is heavy, despite its simple appearance and you turn about, feeling the way it clings to your skin in an easy manner. It is not something that you are accustomed to wearing, yet, you cannot help but smile at your appearance, surprised by how well your attire fits you. <</if>> With your outfit chosen, you turn towards the dresser where a number of jewellery and accessories have been set out. There are necklaces and earrings, bangles and circlets. Beside the jewellery, jars of soft creams, tinted reds and pinks to deep blues and gold sit atop the dresser. Rouge, you realise and then, noticing a smaller clay pot of dark liquid, kohl. <<set $chp3_26 to 0>><<set $jewel_full to false>><<set $no_jewel to false>> [[You decide to wear as many pieces of jewellery as possible.|chp3_27][$jewel_full to true, $chp3_26 +=1]] [[You will wear a small amount of jewellery.|chp3_27][$chp3_26 +=2]] [[You will not wear any jewellery.|chp3_27][$no_jewel to true, $chp3_26 +=3]]

<<if $chp3_26 is 1>> You decide to choose a number of the pieces of jewellery laid out before you. There are heavy necklaces, glittering with gems and brooches, so delicately curled that you are surprised when it does not break under your touch. Golden bangles, adorned with pearl beads and shimmering stones, ring dully as you slip them over your wrists. <<elseif $chp3_26 is 2>> You will wear a small amount of jewellery. The choice of jewellery laid before you is endless and you cannot deny that it is a little overwhelming to decide which jewellery to pick. Still, you settle on a few pieces that do not clash together or steal the attention away from your attire. A gold armband along with a few rings is enough for you. <<elseif $chp3_26 is 3>> You will not wear any jewellery. Looking over the large choice set out before you, you realise that you do not wish to wear any jewellery tonight. Your attire is already enough, extravagent in its appearance and you doubt that you will need to wear any jewellery to stand out even more than you do. <</if>> With your decision made, you find your eyes catching on the locket your grandmother gave you. You had forgotten about it, after returning from your trip into the city, deciding that you would <<if $locket is 1>>carry the locket with you at all times.<<elseif $locket is 2>>store it in the jade box that Ahlf gave you.<<elseif $locket is 3>>wear it always, as a reminder of your grandmother's kindess.<<elseif $locket is 4>>keep it in the jade box, with the hopes of forgetting its existence.<</if>> Looking at the locket now, you gaze at the stone, a stark reminder of the mother who left all those years ago. <<set $locket_banquet to false>> [[You decide to wear the locket.|chp3_28][$locket_banquet to true]] [[You decide not to wear the locket.|chp3_28]]

<<if $locket_banquet is true>> You pick the locket, the chain heavy and gold as you clasp it around your neck. The weight of the stone settles against your chest, resting above your collarbone. It is solid, a heavy thing that glimmers under the light. You stare at it, this connection to your past, to your mother's life as it rests against your clothes. Your thoughts are interrupted by the young attendant from earlier. She casts you a smile, her eyes settling on your mother's locket. "That is a beautiful piece," she comments. "Perhaps I can assist you with your cosmetics?" <<else>> You do not wish to wear the locket tonight, and leave it where it rests atop the dresser. It is gold and glimmers under the light, though all the locket does is remind you of the past you wished could have been different. It is a stark reminder of your mother's life, her absence during your childhood and something you do not wish to think about at the banquet. Your thoughts are interrupted by the young attendant from earlier. She casts you a smile, her eyes taking in your appearance. "You look very regal indeed," she comments. "Perhaps I can assist you with your cosmetics?" <</if>><<set $makeup_chp3 to false>> [["Yes, I would appreciate that," you answer.|chp3_29][$makeup_chp3 to true]] [["I actually do not intend to use any cosmetics tonight," you respond.|chp3_29]]

<<if $makeup_chp3 is true>> "Yes, I would appreciate that," you answer. The attendant nods in response, before guiding you to take a seat on a low stool. Her focus is admirable as she swipes brushes and the various jars from the table. Inspecting your chosen attire, the attendant nods to herself in thought. "How would you like your cosmetics applied tonight?" she asks. <<set $makeup_look to 0>> [["Make me look magnificent," you say, wanting to stand out tonight.|chp3_30][$makeup_look +=1]] [["I would like something toned down," you explain, wanting to enahcne your features but not enough to garner unneccary attention.|chp3_30][$makeup_look +=2]] [["I am not quite sure," you answer. "Perhaps you can decide for me?"|chp3_30][$makeup_look +=3]] <<else>> "I actually do not intend to use any cosmetics tonight," you respond. The attendant frowns, though after a moment, she nods at you. Instead, she gestures to where the brushes and hair accessories are placed. You note the golden circlets and pale combs. Beside it, sits delicate hair clips, golden and bronze to bright silvers. "I can assist you with other accessories if you would like," the attendant explains. <<set $hair_acc to false>> [["Thank you," you say, agreeing.|chp3_31a][$hair_acc to true]] [["No, I do not think that I will need more accessories," you explain.|chp3_33]] <</if>>

<<if $makeup_look is 1>> "Make me look magnificent," you say, wanting to stand out tonight. Grinning at you, the attendant soon gets to work. She paints your eyelids and then, dabs soft powders to your cheeks. Lining your lips, she soon brushes something soft and perfumed against your mouth. You sit there, fidgeting and after some time has passed, the attendant draws away with a satisfied nod. "There you are," she says. "A magnificent appearance for the Prince's companion." You turn towards the vanity, staring at your reflection. The attendant must be skilled in applying cosmetics because she has truly made you magnificent. Your eyelids have been painted gold and your lips are dark. Kohl lines the lower lids of your eyes, enhancing your eyes as if they were jewels. Whatever visage you were hoping for, it is clear that this surpasses the limitations of your imagination. Looking at your reflection, it is hard to see the same fisherman's $heir that you have always been, instead, now, you are regal and as fine as any other. <<elseif $makeup_look is 2>> "I would like something toned down," you explain, wanting to enahcne your features but not enough to garner unneccary attention. "I can do that," the attendant responds, nodding. She soon gets to work, applying soft pastes and perfumed oils to your skin. Painting your eyelids delicately, the attendant then moves to your lips and brushes a soft tint to it. You fidget in your seat, hoping that the cosmetics applied will not be too extravagent. Eventually, the attendant draws away and nods at your appearance. "There you are," she says. "A lovely appearance for the Prince's companion." You turn towards the vanity, your eyes settling on the reflection that looks at you. The attendant must be skilled, for her attention to detail has managed to capture your best features. A powdery gold, dusts your skin, shimmering when you turn your head. Your lips have been kept bare, save for the soft oil that the attendant rubbed along the skin. Whatever appearance you were expecting, this far surpasses your imagination. There is nothing in your appearance that reminds you of the person you once were. You do not look like a fisherman's $heir, instead, you look regal. <<elseif $makeup_look is 3>> "I am not quite sure," you answer. "Perhaps you can decide for me?" The attendant smiles widely at you, before nodding in response. Gathering the jars and brushes, she soon gets to work in applying the cosmetics to your skin. You fidget, uncertain of how your appearance will turn out in the end, hoping that the attendant will have the foresight not to make you look too outrageous. After brushing your lips and skin with soft pastes and powders, the attendant draws back. "There you are," she says. "A look to complement your attire." You turn towards the vanity and it takes you a moment to recognise the face staring back at you. The attendant had been truthful. Your face has been painted delicately, the colours of the cosmetics matching the hues of your $banquet_outfit. You gingerly touch your skin, astonished by how soft your skin feels. Whatever remnants of your past as a simple fisherman's $heir has been erased and in its place, you find yourself staring at the person you could be. <</if>> "I can help you with your head accessories as well," she explains. You glance at the accessories, tortoise shell combs and metal hair clasps, circlets and delicate hair rings. They glint under the light and woould make a fine accessory to your appearance. <<set $hair_acc to false>> [["Yes, I would like that," you say.|chp3_31a][$hair_acc to true]] [["No thank you," you reply.|chp3_31b]]

<<if $hairlong is "bald">>The attendant soon turns her attention to the numerous hair accessories displayed. You normally shave off your hair, and so your head is... <<set $hairstyle to "unknown">> [[...covered in fine stubble, as your hair begins to regrow.|chp3_32][$hairstyle to "stubble"]] [[...smooth, with no sign of your hair.|chp3_32][$hairstyle to "smooth"]] <<else>> The attendant soon turns her attention to the numerous hair accessories displayed. You normally keep your hair at a $hairlong length and tonight, you've decided to leave it in its natural state which is... <<set $hairstyle to "unknown">><<set $hair_choice to true>> [[...straight and loose.|chp3_32][$hairstyle to "loose"]] [[...loosely curled.|chp3_32][$hairstyle to "loosely curled"]] [[...tightly curled.|chp3_32][$hairstyle to "tightly curled"]] [[...wavy and loose.|chp3_32][$hairstyle to "wavy"]] [[...braided tightly.|chp3_32][$hairstyle to "braided"]] [[...coiled.|chp3_32][$hairstyle to "coiled"]] <</if>>

<<if $hair_acc is true>> The attendant runs her hands over the different accessories before turning to you. "Which one would you prefer?" she asks. <<set $hair_acc_choice to "unknown">> [[You choose the circlet.|chp3_33][$hair_acc_choice to "circlet"]] [[You choose the fine clasp.|chp3_33][$hair_acc_choice to "clasp"]] [[You choose the delicate head chain.|chp3_33][$hair_acc_choice to "head chain"]]<</if>>

Now dressed, you smooth your hands over the material of your $banquet_outfit. It is time to finally attend the banquet. You glance at the attendant who gestures for you to follow. You follow her as she leads you down the winding hallways, taking a different path towards the banquet chamber than the one you took when helping Queen Elora decorate. There is a notable increase in guards, ones that had not been there during your time in the palace, now stationed at the different hallways. The attendant notices your stare and lowers her voice. "They are there to stop any wandering guests," she explains. "Some of Her Majesty's guests tend to slip off into closed off chambers for time alone." She giggles, her cheeks turning red as she says this. You blink, realising that the attendant is referring to //coupling//. [[Next.|chp3_34]]

Your thoughts are soon interrupted as the attendant draws to a stop. She glances at you, offering you a kind smile. The large doors of the banquet hall have been left open, though you still stand far enough that you cannot quite see what is happening inside. "I am afraid that I cannot accompany you inside," she explains. "But I am certain you will enjoy yourself." She bows her head to you, before nudging you forward with her hand. You stumble at first, your steps uncertain as you step towards the banquet. The first signs of music begin to filter through the door. You hear the chatter of guests and a high peal of laughter cutting through the room. Bracing yourself, you enter the banquet hall. [[Next.|chp3_35]]

<<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "banquet" loop play>> As you step through the doorway, you are greeted by the sight of the banquet. The hall has been transformed into one of splendour and extravagence. A long table sits in the centre of the room, with nearly a hundred chairs placed on either side. Around you, servants hurry around the room, carrying trays of drinks and food. It is as if you have stepped into another life, one you have not known you were missing until now. Someone bumps into you where you stand, and you hear them mumble a slurred apology before stumbling away. You shake your head, still reeling from the thick crowd of guests and the scents of various meals. The feast will begin a little while, so you will not have time to speak to everyone you would like to. As you survey the hall, you find your eyes searching for a familiar face. <<set $banquet_irus to false>><<set $banquet_el to false>><<set $banquet_oren to false>><<set $banquet_counter to 0>><<set $councillor_support to 0>><<set $banquet_zikar to false>> [[You notice Prince Irus seated across a olive skinned man, as they laugh loudly.|chp3_36a][$banquet_irus to true, $banquet_counter +=1]] [[You spot Queen Elora, surrounded by older courtiers, looking serious despite the festivities.|chp3_36b][$banquet_el to true, $banquet_counter +=1]] [[You find Sir Oren, dressed in a fine suit as he chats amiably with a dark haired man.|chp3_36c][$banquet_oren to true, $banquet_counter +=1]] [[Your eyes land on Zikar, who stands to one side of the banquet hall.|chp3_36d][$banquet_counter +=1, $banquet_zikar to true]]

Noticing the Prince, you find your legs moving of their own accord. You manage to avoid bumping into other guests as you make your way across the banquet hall. As you approach, you hear the edges of Prince Irus' conversation with the man across from him. "I assure you that even if I drank you under the table, I will still be able to stand upright for longer than you can," Prince Irus announces. You frown. Is Prince Irus challenging this man to a drinking contest? Hurrying towards where he sits, you finally seem to catch his attention. Blinking, Prince Irus' eyes widen at your appearance and for a moment, you wonder if you have intruded some sort of private discussion. <<if $irusRom gte 10>> "$name," he breathes. "You look... I mean..." The man sitting across from Prince Irus leans over the table, his eyes dark and appraising as they snake across your features. "He means to say that you look ravishing," he repeats. Standing, the man comes to take your hand in his. His eyes never leave yours for a second. "I am Administrator Kazan and you must be the young Prince's companion." You catch the dark look on Prince Irus' face and the way his eyes seem to focus where Administrator Kazan still holds your hand in his. It appears that Prince Irus' look does not go unnoticed by Administrator Kazan as his lips pull up into a smirk. "I see," he comments. "His Highness has not learnt how to share his toys." Prince Irus scowls, as he stands from his seat. Gripping your wrist, he pulls your hand free from Administrator Kazan's hold. "$name is not a toy," Prince Irus hisses. Administrator Kazan smiles, but there is a gleam of satisfaction that spreads through his dark eyes. "I misspoke. Apologies, $name. Come, sit. Let me amend your thoughts on me." <<else>> "$name," Prince Irus greets. His eyes widen at your apperance. "You look enchanting." You smile in response, but your attention is drawn towards the man across from Prince Irus. He stands, his dark hair cropped close to his head and his dark eyes unwavering as he stares at you. Coming to stand before you, the man takes your hand in his. "I must concur," he breathes. "You do look ravishing tonight. But where are my manners? I am Administrator Kazan. It is a pleasure to meet you, $name." "Oh," you reply. "It is nice to make your acquaintance." Administrator Kazan chuckles, his eyes closing as he does so. When he speaks, he addresses Prince Irus. "You did not tell me that your loyal companion was so well-spoken," Administrator Kazan remarks. "Perhaps it was foolish of me to expect a rough-mannered peasant from Cyre." His barb does not go unnoticed. Prince Irus scowls, as he moves to stand at your side. "Perhaps it is you who is rough-mannered," Prince Irus grunts. Administrator Kazan blinks, before smiling widely. Despite his genial manner, you notice a flicker of satisfaction that flashes through his dark eyes. "Of course," Administrator Kazan replies. "I misspoke. You will forgive me, $name? Come, sit, let us be merry tonight."<</if>> [[Next.|chp3_36a_1]]

Noticing Queen Elora standing to one side of the banquet hall, you find your legs carrying you over towards where she stands. The crowds are thicker here and you suspect that many guests are angling to get the attention of their Queen. As you approach Queen Elora, wondering if you will be overlooked like the other guests, the young Queen turns and notices you. Her expression brightens at the sight of you. "$name," she calls. "Come, join me." You overhear the murmurs around you weave through the gathered guests towards Queen Elora. Unused to being the envy of anyone, you are relieved when you are drawn away from the glares of the rest of the guests. Standing beside Queen Elora, you take a moment to examine her appearance. Her dark hair, has been plaited against the top of her head, with a few curls spilling down her back loosely. She wears a crimson dress, one that sweeps around her feet and fits snugly around her small frame. Undoubtedly, the circlet of gold in her hair is enough of a symbol of her position in Vinia. "Thank the Twelve that you're here," Queen Elora whispers. She nods in the direction of the courtiers around her. "My mother thought I would benefit greatly from discussing politics with the older courtiers." "Come now, Your Majesty," a voice cuts through. "Surely, not all of us are that boring." [[Next.|chp3_36b_1]]

You notice Sir Oren at first, his height towering above those around him. Across from him, you notice a dark haired man with pale skin. They speak with an easiness that comes with familiarity and you find yourself approaching them as they speak. It is the other man, the pale one, who notices you before Sir Oren does. His grey eyes find yours and your steps falter under the intensity of his gaze. Sir Oren turns, suddenly noticing your presence. He offers you a warm smile, despite the intense look of his companion. "$name," Sir Oren exclaims. He smiles, taking in your appearance. "You look lovely. Though, I must say, you wear finery better than I do." By the way Sir Oren's eyes glisten under the light, you suspect that the goblet in his hand is not his first drink of the night. As if sensing your thoughts, Sir Oren offers you a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his head. "Ah, my apologies," he laughs. "Redall here is a bad influence. I am not accustomed to this many drinks at once." You turn then, as Sir Oren's companion steps towards you. He wears a dark, navy coat, a golden sash fitted over one shoulder. At his hip, you catch sight of a sheathed blade, the sheathe a beautiful thing, but you do not doubt that its owner knows how to wield it. "A pleasure to meet you, $name. I am Lord Redall Veranius, leader of Joran." [[Next.|chp3_36c_1]]

Despite Administrator Kazan's earlier jibe, he sits down at the small table and gestures for you and Prince Irus to join him. You watch as Prince Irus sighs, before reluctantly taking a seat. By the way he is dressed, you know that Administrator Kazan must be someone important. Yet, he still disrespected you without much thought. <<set $chp3_36a_1 to false>> [[You excuse yourself, not wanting to spend more time with Administrator Kazan.|chp3_36a_2][$chp3_36a_1 to true]] [[You take a seat, unwilling to leave Prince Irus alone with this man.|chp3_36a_2]]

<<if $chp3_36a_1 is true>> You glance at Administrator Kazan and then, Prince Irus. His blues seem to see through your expression, because Prince Irus smiles widely at you, though it does not meet his gaze. "You do not want to bore yourself with us," Prince Irus laughs. "Go, have fun. There are many others to mingle with." "Right," you agree. "I shall take my leave." You turn away from Administrator Kazan and Prince Irus, moving away from the table as fast as you can. Spending another moment in the presence of Administrator Kazan only makes you grateful that you left when you did. [[Next.|chp3_banquet_landing]]<<else>>You let out a breath, before you take a seat beside Prince Irus. He offers you a soft smile, one that causes his blue eyes to light up with warmth. You find that the expression eases the tension gathered at your shoulders. Seated beside Prince Irus, you notice the dark tunic he wears, loose at his collarbone to reveal a peek of his skin beneath. A heavily embroidered coat, nearly gold in colour, sits comfortably around his shoulders and his normally mussed curls have been oiled and smoothed down so that there are no loose strands. "Good," Administrator Kazan laughs. He leans across the table. "Tell me, $name. Do you know anything about me?" <<if $politics gt 55>> "You are a councillor of Vinia," you answer. "Well yes, but do you know anything else?" <<if $kazan is true>> "You are the leader of the city of Hadi," you respond. "And before you became a leader, you used to be a merchant. Now, you have made Hadi one of the wealthiest cities in Vinia. Is that what you wanted to know?" Administrator Kazan laughs loudly, drawing the attention of nearby guests. He ignores their stares and glances meaningfully at Prince Irus. "I would say that your friend here knows more politics than you do, Your Highness," he comments. "Perhaps I see why you keep $MChim around." <<else>> "I know that you are a leader of Hadi," you explain, "but I am afraid that I do not know much more than that." Administrator Kazan nods, but his smile is no less wide. "I used to be a merchant, you know? I would trade with many nations, including Ishari. Now, I merely lord over those who I used to work with. Some might say call it destiny to be blessed by such wealth."<</if>> <<else>> "I am afraid that I do not know much about you," you reply. Administrator Kazan eyes you over the table, before he lets out a snort of laughter. The sound draws the attention of nearby guests, but he does not seem bothered by their stares. "Of course you would not," he replies. "After all, what good is a Vinian councillor when you are fleeing for your life?" His words are spoken as a jest, but you cannot help but tense at his meaning, as if he is reminding you of your and Prince Irus' precarious position in Aspal.<</if>> [[Next.|chp3_36a_3]]<</if>>

<<if $banquet_counter lt 3>> Once more, you are standing in the middle of the banquet hall. Your eyes survey the rest of the room, the guests milling around the room. The feast has not yet started and the table, long and set with cutlery, is bare of the meals you are certain that most guests await. With the feast still some time away, you realise that there is still time to speak to another. <<if $banquet_irus is false>> [[You notice Prince Irus seated across a olive skinned man, as they laugh loudly.|chp3_36a][$banquet_irus to true, $banquet_counter +=1]]<</if>> <<if $banquet_el is false>> [[You spot Queen Elora, surrounded by older courtiers, looking serious despite the festivities.|chp3_36b][$banquet_el to true, $banquet_counter +=1]]<</if>> <<if $banquet_oren is false>> [[You find Sir Oren, dressed in a fine suit as he chats amiably with a dark haired man.|chp3_36c][$banquet_oren to true, $banquet_counter +=1]]<</if>> <<if $banquet_zikar is false>> [[Your eyes land on Zikar, who stands to one side of the banquet hall.|chp3_36d][$banquet_counter +=1, $banquet_zikar to true]]<</if>> <<elseif $banquet_counter gte 3>> You find yourself standing in the middle of the banquet hall. Guests begin to take their seats at the long table, as servants begin to usher those lingering at the edges of the room towards the table. You realise that the banquet is about to begin. Finding a seat will soon become difficult, with seats being snatched by guests. You hurry towards the table, managing to find a spot between Prince Irus and Zikar. [[Next.|chp3_37]]<</if>>

Administrator Kazan leans back in his seat, raising a golden goblet to his lips. He gulps down from his goblet, though his dark eyes do not leave Prince Irus or you for too long. You cannot help but feel as if you are being assessed by this man, a councillor of Vinia. "Tell me $name," he says, after a moment. "You have travelled with His Highness for some time. Do you think he would make a good leader, considering his links to the Blood Guard. I am certain that I do not need to remind you of their treatment of those with Ishari blood, hm?" "That is uncalled for," Prince Irus hisses. "I am not the same as my father, Administrator." Administrator Kazan raises an eyebrow. "I believe I was talking to $name, not you, Your Highness." He turns, facing you with a hard look. "Is it worthwhile to support Prince Irus?" <<set $chp3_36a_3 to 0>><<set $chp3_irus_support to false>><<set $kazan_support to false>> [["Yes," you answer. "Prince Irus is nothing like the other leaders in Cyre. He will not harm the Ishari if he becomes king."|chp3_36a_4][$chp3_irus_support to true, $chp3_36a_3 +=1, $kazan_support to true, $councillor_support +=1]] [["Yes," you reply. "He will be a better king than his father or uncle."|chp3_36a_4][$chp3_36a_3 +=2, $chp3_irus_support to true]] [["He is the rightful ruler of Cyre," you respond with a shrug.|chp3_36a_4][$chp3_irus_support to true, $chp3_36a_3 +=3]] <<if $kazan is true>> [["If you support Prince Irus in this, it will be to your favour," you explain.|chp3_36a_4][$chp3_36a_3 +=4, $chp3_irus_support to true, $kazan_support to true, $councillor_support +=1]]<</if>>

<<if $chp3_36a_3 is 1>> "Yes," you answer. "Prince Irus is nothing like the other leaders in Cyre. He will not harm the Ishari if he becomes king." Administrator Kazan stares at you, his eyes searching your expression. A moment passes and the man lets out a huff. he reaches for his goblet once more, taking another large gulp. When he speaks, his voice lacks the biting tone that he has been using all evening. "You truly believe that," he replies. He glances at Prince Irus. "I suppose there is much to be said if an Ishari $gender will support you, Your Highness." Prince Irus nods, though his eyes meets yours. There is a wordless look of gratitude in his eyes, before he returns his attention towards Administrator Kazan. "I do hope you will take it into consideration," Prince Irus replies. <<elseif $chp3_36a_3 is 2>> "Yes," you reply. "He will be a better king than his father or uncle." Administrator Kazan raises his eyebrows. "That does not give me much hope. A better king could still wield the ruthless Blood Guard as much as the previous ruler." Prince Irus frowns. "I do not think that is what $name was trying to say." "No, but $MChis words said enough," Administrator Kazan replies. "You will be a better king, but how true can that be? Will you guarantee that the Blood Guard will not continue under your reign?" Prince Irus begins to retort, but Administrator Kazan waves away his words. "I did not ask you to prostrate yourself to me, Your Highness. I was merely seeking insights from your companion," he remarks. <<elseif $chp3_36a_3 is 3>> "He is the rightful ruler of Cyre," you respond with a shrug. Administrator Kazan tilts his head at your words, as if pondering them. "Rightful ruler?" You nod. "Yes, he was named heir to the throne." "Tell me, $name," Administrator Kazan says. "How many rulers do you think were the rightful heirs of their kingdoms?" "Well, I do not know but certainly-" "You do not know because our history of leaders is shrouded in wars of greed and blood," Administrator Kazan retorts. "We are no longer in the Age of Osyn, $name. There are no good leaders, but those who are measured by how well they manage their kingdom." Prince Irus frowns. "I assure you that I will be a good leader." Administrator Kazan sips from his goblet. "Assurances mean nothing when going up against the Blood Guard." <<elseif $chp3_36a_3 is 4>> "If you support Prince Irus in this, it will be to your favour," you explain. For the first time since you joined the conversation, Administrator Kazan looks at you with something akin to interest. He sips from his goblet, though you get the sense that he is weighing up your words against his own assessments. "Go on," Administrator Kazan prompts. "What do you mean?" "Have you brokered a deal with King Virion?" you ask. Prince Irus makes a face, perhaps to correct you from referring to his uncle as a king, but you ignore his pointed look. From what you learnt with Queen Elora, the only way Administrator Kazan will support Prince Irus is if he sees value in it. "Deal? And what deal would that be?" Administrator Kazan asks. "A trade deal, of course," you respond. "Yes, Vinia is a neutral kingdom but we both know a greedy king when we see one. How long will Virion be content with Vinia's neutrality, especially when he can simply take all the wealth he needs by force?" "And what do you prospose?" Administrator Kazan asks. "Support Prince Irus and he will promise you a secured trade alliance," you explain. "A far better deal than supporting a tyrant of a king, do you not agree?" Administrator Kazan leans back in his seat, his eyes glimmering with amusement, but beneath it, respect. "You have given me a lot to think about, $name." <</if>> [[Next.|chp3_36a_5]]

Sighing, Administrator Kazan drains the remnants of his goblet, before slamming it onto the table. His eyes find yours before travelling towards Prince Irus, before he stands to his full height. "Well, I can certainly say that it has been at least entertaining speaking to you both," he exclaims. "But I am afraid I am needed elsewhere. There are others who I must mingle with." He turns, striding away without a second glance towards your table. For a moment, you can only stare at the councillor's retreating back. He could not have been much older than you or Prince Irus, though he carried himself with the same level of importance you would imagine seeing in a ruler. "$name," Prince Irus calls. "I am thankful that you supported my rule with the Administrator. Regardless of what happens, it means a lot to me." Prince Irus' words are genuine and the look in his eyes are soft. <<set $chp3_36a_5 to 0>> [["I meant what I said," you reply with a smile.|chp3_36a_6][$chp3_36a_5 +=1, $irusRel +=2]] [[♡"I only spoke the truth," you murmur, your voice catching in your throat.|chp3_36a_6][$chp3_36a_5 +=2, $irusRel +=2, $irusRom +=2, $flirt_shy +=5]] [[♡"I would sing you praises even if it was just for you," you reply with a teasing smile.|chp3_36a_6][$chp3_36a_5 +=3, $irusRel +=2, $irusRom +=2, $flirst_bold +=5]] [["Think nothing of it," you reply with a shrug.|chp3_36a_6][$chp3_36a_5 +=4, $irusRel +=2]] [["Do not get so sentimental," you grunt. "I only was doing what had to be done to ensure my safety."|chp3_36a_6][$chp3_36a_5 +=5, $irusRel -=2]]

<<if $chp3_36a_5 is 1>> "I meant what I said," you reply with a smile. Prince Irus returns your smile and he playfully nudges your shoulder with his own. Despite the weight of your situation, you cannot deny that being with Prince Irus has brought you some semblance of happiness. He has proven to be a good friend throughout the time that you have gotten to know him and regardless of what others might think, you know that he would make a good king. "Thank you, $name," Prince Irus says. "After being exiled, no one, not even those I considered to be my friends wanted to associate with me. I know that we did not meet under the best of circumstances, but I am truly grateful for your companionship." Your lips pull into a smile. "If it makes you feel any better, before I met you, I never really had friends." Prince Irus laughs. "Perhaps we are fated to know each other then." He stands, glancing at the rest of the banquet. You follow his gaze, noticing the other guests. "Perhaps we shall see each other later, then?" you suggest. He nods to you, agreeing. <<elseif $chp3_36a_5 is 2>> "I only spoke the truth," you murmur, your voice catching in your throat. Breathing is made harder with Prince Irus' gaze on you. His blue irises, so vibrant and warm, now scan over your face in a manner that sends a shiver down your spine. You cannot bear looking at him, not when his gaze is so intense on you. Averting your eyes, you turn to stare at the table before you. Prince Irus reaches out, his touch warm as he runs his fingers over your face. You still, your breath lodged in the back of your throat. Heat spreads through your face, from where his skin grazes against yours. He lets out an amused sound, though as he draws your face so that you're forced to look at him, there is a mirthful look in his gaze. <<if $flirt_shy gt $flirt_bold>> "You are always so shy," Prince Irus breathes, his thumb stroking down your face. "It is maddening how enjoyable it is to see you squirm like this." You draw back, flustered and hot. Prince Irus' lips pull into a wide smirk, before he stands up. For a moment, you think that he will pull you up with him and you are uncertain if it is relief or longing when he does not. "Find me later, $name," he states. "I am certain we can have a lot more fun together." <<elseif $flirt_bold gt $flirt_shy>> "Rendered speechless?" he asks. He cups your face in his hold, smiling. "That is unusual for you, though I cannot say that I am not enjoying it." You draw back, your skin warm and your face tingling where his fingers had been seconds before. Prince Irus smirks at you, before he stands up, throwing you a heated look. "Find me later, $name," he says. "I am certain that we will be able to have more fun together."<</if>> <<elseif $chp3_36a_5 is 3>> I would sing you praises even if it was just for you," you reply with a teasing smile. Prince Irus angles himself towards you, his blue eyes searching your face with a unspoken hunger. The expression sends a shiver down your spine and you find yourself leaning closer to him, without thinking. This close, you can feel his breath brush against your face, a lingering spice in its warmth. "Oh?" he asks. "And what else would you do just for me?" His words are heated, causing your skin to tingle at the thoughts of what the two of you could be doing were it not for the banquet around you. You let your eyes rake over his face, taking in the darkened look in his blue eyes to the freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose and cheeks. He is an attractive man and one who gazes at you, unflinching under your stare. "Whatever you want," you murmur. You reach out, cupping his face in your grasp. "All you need to do is ask." Prince Irus brings your hand to his lips, kissing your fingers lightly. The touch of his mouth sends heat surging through your skin and you let out a breath. He draws away, Prince Irus offers you a lingering look before he stands. "Come find me later," he responds. "I am certain that we will be able to get up to a lot more fun than this." <<elseif $chp3_36a_5 is 4>> "Think nothing of it," you reply with a shrug. Prince Irus furrows his eyebrows, letting out a breath as he glances at you. His blue eyes scan your face, taking in your expression and the weight of your words. "It is not nothing," he emphasises. "It means a great deal to me, $name, even if you do not think so." You shrug. "Anyone would have done the same in my place." Prince Irus smiles, before standing. "Perhaps, but I have not met any who have helped me the way you have." His eyes scan the rest of the banquet hall, taking in the different guests. When Prince Irus turns to look at you once more, he wears a wide smile. "I will see you later," he explains. "I am afraid that I must still sway the other councillors in my favour." <<elseif $chp3_36a_5 is 5>> "Do not get so sentimental," you grunt. "I only was doing what had to be done to ensure my safety." Your words draw a frown from Prince Irus and his eyes harden as he glances at you. Perhaps, he was expecting something warmer from you, but you are unwilling to honey your words and tone. No matter how much Prince Irus will try to deny it, you both are very aware of just how closely tied your fates are. "I see," Prince Irus responds. "Very well. I suppose I will take my leave then." He stands, his lips pursed into a thin line as he departs from your table. <</if>> [[Next.|chp3_banquet_landing]]

As you settle into your seat, you cast a glance over the banquet table. The other guests, councillors included, have been seated around the table with those with the most importance, seated closest to Queen Elora. Beside her, Sovereign Amera surveys the room, her eyes settling briefly on you and Prince Irus, before she looks away. Neither you, nor Prince Irus are relatively close to Queen Elora. Instead, you find yourself seated towards the end of the table, surrounded by those who might be considered lower in status. Beside you, Zikar seems unbothered by the seating arrangement and you realise that despite his secret friendship with Queen Elora, he must not get to enjoy the luxuries that come from having a queen for a friend. <<set $chp3_37 to 0>> [[You find it a little offensive that you are considered to be so low in status amongst the other guests.|chp3_38][$chp3_37 +=1]] [[You understand that neither your nor Prince Irus are high in status amongst the other guests and do not mind where you sit.|chp3_38][$chp3_37 +=2]] [[You are upset that Queen Elora would not have you seated closer to her, considering her friendship with Prince Irus.|chp3_38][$chp3_37 +=3]] [[You do not care where you sit at the table.|chp3_38][$chp3_37 +=4]]

Queen Elora turns towards the voice, and you follow her gaze. A tall woman, with a severe expression glances at the young Queen. Then, her eyes drift towards you, capturing you in their intense grey irises. You bristle under the woman's stare, feeling exposed under her peering eyes. "Of course," Queen Elora replies. "You must forgive me, Honourable Emnilda. I believe you have not yet met $name, Prince Irus' companion." Honourable Emnilda nods, though she does not seem surprised. Her eyes rake over appearance before she offers you a curt smile. "I have heard a great deal about His Highness, though I have hardly heard anything about you, $name," Honourable Emnilda states. Queen Elora speaks then. "$name helped Prince Irus escape Cyre and has been a loyal companion since leaving $MChis home." Honourable Emnilda raises a dark eyebrow, peppered with silver strands. She draws closer, perhaps to avoid the way the other courtiers seem to loiter around, in hopes of catching snippets of your conversation. "It is a good thing to have accompanied the Prince," Honourable Emnilda remarks. "But tell me, was it out of generosity or out of sheer self-preservation?" <<set $chp3_36b_1 to 0>><<set $emnilda_support to false>> [["I helped him because it was the right thing to do," you reply, offended by her implications.|chp3_36b_2][$chp3_36b_1 +=1]] [["I understand your concerns, but I assure you that I helped him because it was the right thing to do," you explain.|chp3_36b_2][$chp3_36b_1 +=2]] [["I had no other choice," you respond. "It was either fleeing with Prince Irus or facing the Blood Guard."|chp3_36b_2][$chp3_36b_1 +=3]] [["My father sacrificed himself to save me and Prince Irus," you breathe. "I owe it to my father to help Prince Irus."|chp3_36b_2][$chp3_36b_1 +=4]] [["Why I helped him is none of your concern," you spit, unwilling to share your motives.|chp3_36b_2][$chp3_36b_1 +=5]]

<<if $chp3_36b_1 is 1>> "I helped him because it was the right thing to do," you reply, offended by her implications. Honourable Emnilda stares at you, mulling over your words as she considers them. A moment passes, before she tilts her head at you in acknowledgement. "Yes, I do believe you are being honest," she replies. "Though, perhaps next time, it would do you well to keep your emotions in check. You cannot blame me for being curious as to why a simple //Ishari// $gender would accompany the son of King Erlan." <<elseif $chp3_36b_1 is 2>> "I understand your concerns, but I assure you that I helped him because it was the right thing to do," you explain. Honourable Emnilda searches your expression, weighing your words before she nods to you. A flicker of a smile tugs at the corners of her lips, but it is gone before you are able to comprehend its appearance. "I do quite believe you," she replies. "And it is good that you understand why I questioned you about your motives. Not many, certainly one who is Ishari, would accompany King Erlan's son." <<elseif $chp3_36b_1 is 3>> "I had no other choice," you respond. "It was either fleeing with Prince Irus or facing the Blood Guard." "So self-preservation then," Honourable Emnilda murmurs. She nods thoughtfully, her grey eyes scanning your expression. "I do believe that you are being honest." "What could I gain by lying?" you ask. Honourable Emnilda offers you a wry smile, but it is gone before you can comprehend it. "That is true, though you must understand my questioning of your motives. After all, no one expected an Ishari $gender to accompany the son of King Erlan in exile." <<elseif $chp3_36b_1 is 4>> "My father sacrificed himself to save me and Prince Irus," you breathe. "I owe it to my father to help Prince Irus." Honourable Emnilda raises an eyebrow at you. Her gaze is hard and her lips press into a thin line. There is something appraising in the way that she looks at you and after a moment, she nods. "It seems you value your family," she responds. "Though, you must also remember that it is the Prince's family that is responsible for the death of your people." <<elseif $chp3_36b_1 is 5>> "Why I helped him is none of your concern," you spit, unwilling to share your motives. You are not interested in these veiled conversations, all dancing around the topic of you and Prince Irus. Honourable Emnilda's lips flatten into a thin line as her eyes harden. You think you notice Queen Elora stepping in to say something, but Honourable Emnilda casts her a slight shake of her head. "It is curious that you are uninterested in sharing your motives," Honourable Emnilda remarks. "Though, you cannot fault the thoughts of an old woman. After all, it is not every day that you see an Ishari $gender fleeing with the son of their enemy." <</if>><<set $chp3_36b_2 to 0>> [["Prince Irus is nothing like King Erlan," you retort.|chp3_36b_3][$chp3_36b_2 +=1]] [["You are mistaken," you respond. "I assure you that Prince Irus is nothing like his father."|chp3_36b_3][$chp3_36b_2 +=2]] [["Regardless of his parentage, Prince Irus is still a better choice than his uncle," you reply.|chp3_36b_3][$chp3_36b_2 +=3]] [["It doesn't matter who he is," you mutter. "All that matters is stopping Virion from conquering other nations with the help of the Blood Guard."|chp3_36b_3][$chp3_36b_2 +=4]]

<<if $chp3_36b_2 is 1>> "Prince Irus is nothing like King Erlan," you retort. Honourable Emnilda lets out a breath, the sound full of derision and amusement as she glances at you. You frown at her response, wondering about the source of her amusement. For as long as you have travelled with Prince Irus, he never once shunned you for your Ishari heritage. You know that he will be different from King Erlan. "Isn't he?" Honourable Emnilda asks. Her expression turns hard. "Have you spent enough time with him, $name? Do you know his thoughts? No. You do not. You have not seen boys become the same men that their fathers were." "That is not true," you protest. "Prince Irus is different." "Has he assured you that he will stop the war against Ishari if he reclaims Cyre?" Honourable Emnilda questions. You grow quiet, the question never really voiced with the young Prince. Honourable Emnilda smiles, as if satisfied by your silence. <<elseif $chp3_36b_2 is 2>> "You are mistaken," you respond. "I assure you that Prince Irus is nothing like his father." "Oh?" Honourable Emnilda questions. "I suppose you must have spent much time with King Erlan to make such a declaration." Your eyebrows furrow as you frown at Honourable Emnilda. Her eyes are hard, unwavering as she stares at you. "I have not known him personally," you reply. "But I do know that Prince Irus is different. He has not treated me poorly or disregarded my opinions simply for being Ishari." Honourable Emnilda scoffs at your response, her eyes narrowing. "You cannot measure a man based on his treatment of one Ishari $gender, let alone one that is half the child of Cyre-born former Blood Guard General." You stiffen as Honourable Emnilda's words register in your mind. She knows about Ahlf, about you? But she said that she hardly heard anything about you earlier. Honourable Emnilda smiles at your surprised expression. "You helped him flee Cyre," Honourable Emnilda replies. "In desperate times, some will trust even their enemies. Do not think that you are privy to the young Prince's thoughts, $name. It would be foolish." <<elseif $chp3_36b_2 is 3>> "Regardless of his parentage, Prince Irus is still a better choice than his uncle," you reply. Honourable Emnilda nods at your words, as if pondering your meaning. A moment passes and then, she frowns. "Do you know the new General of the Blood Guard?" she asks, the sudden change of topic catching you by surprise. "Yes. His name is Morden," you answer. Memories of the man slaying your father begin to steal at your thoughts and you swallow, trying to push them down. Honourable Emnilda laughs, her voice taking a tone of amusement, as she leans closer to speak. To any other, she might appear to be gossiping as the other courtiers are doing, but her words are laced with venom. "I hear that Morden is really an Ishari-born man," she laughs. "Isn't it strange that Virion, who you say is worse than Prince Irus, has promoted an Ishari to lead the very army that has slain countless of your people?" <<elseif $chp3_36b_2 is 4>> "It doesn't matter who he is," you mutter. "All that matters is stopping Virion from conquering other nations with the help of the Blood Guard." "So you do concede then that you do not care for Prince Irus taking the throne?" Honourable Emnilda asks. You frown. "I did not say that." She smiles at you, a condescending expression as she regards you. "No, you did not have to say it, $name." "What are you getting at?" you demand, losing your patience. "The war on Ishari will only get worse with the Blood Guard under Virion's control." "Will it?" Honourable Emnilda questions. "Tell me, $name. Since fleeing Cyre, who have been the victims of the Blood Guard?" You open your mouth to respond, but Honourable Emnilda waves away your words, as if uninterested in your answer. "I heard that a tiny hamlet was ravaged and Virion's own people were slaughtered," she comments. "Strange, is it not that the Blood Guard have killed their own people, instead of the Ishari?" <</if>> [[Next.|chp3_36b_4]]

You stare at Honourable Emnilda, or perhaps her title should be taken away for her words have left you feeling bitter and hollow. Queen Elora clears her throat, glancing at you in concern. You realise that she heard everything spoken between you and Honourable Emnilda. "Are you alright, $name?" she asks. Honourable Emnilda arches an eyebrow at you. "You must forgive my blunt words. I am told that I can be quite intimidating to those unused to my brusque manner." There is a silent challenge in her voice, daring you to flee from under her penetrating gaze. You let out a breath, the banquet around you, coming into focus once more. [["I am fine," you answer, intending to remain with Queen Elora and Honourable Emnilda.|chp3_36b_5]] [["I think I need some air," you answer, departing.|chp3_banquet_landing]]

Queen Elora smiles at you, though her dark eyes still glimmer with the faint traces of concern. You manage to return her smile and then, glance at Honourable Emnilda. There is something in her eyes that seems like grudging respect at your choice to remain behind. Perhaps, you have passed a test? "You are full of opinions, $name," Honourable Emnilda says. "Tell me, as a councillor of Vinia, why should I support Prince Irus' claim?" <<set $emnilda_support to false>><<set $chp3_36b_5 to 0>> [["He will be a just and fair ruler," you answer.|chp3_36b_6][$emnilda_support to true, $chp3_36b_5 +=1, $councillor_support +=1]] [["I believe in Prince Irus," you reply. "He will make a good ruler."|chp3_36b_6][$chp3_36b_5 +=2]] [["He will be better than his uncle," you say.|chp3_36b_6][$chp3_36b_5 +=3]] <<if $blades gt 55>> [["He will be a strong ruler, one who will be able to stop the Blood Guard," you explain.|chp3_36b_6][$chp3_36b_5 +=4, $emnilda_support to true, $councillor_support +=1]]<</if>>

<<if $chp3_36b_5 is 1>> "He will be a just and fair ruler," you answer. Honourable Emnilda considers your response for a moment, before she nods at you. "You believe that," she states. "And perhaps, you, who have spent more time with the Prince at his lowest, will understand him best." "Prince Irus is a good man," you explain. "I do belive that he will do what is right when the time comes to reclaiming Cyre." "Maybe I have judged you too harshly, $name," Honourable Emnilda sighs. "You are not like the others, nobles and sycophants, clamouring for attention. No, you too have been forced to flee with Prince Irus. Thank you for answering my questions. I will think upon your words when I make my decision." <<elseif $chp3_36b_5 is 2>> "I believe in Prince Irus," you reply. "He will make a good ruler." "Many would put faith in what they believe," Honourable Emnilda responds. She frowns. "Though belief often leads people to their own downfall." You frown at Honourable Emnilda, her expression remaining unconvinced. Steeling your resolve, you continue your support for Prince Irus in earnest. "Prince Irus will be a good ruler," you repeat. "He will rule Cyre well." "I do not doubt that you believe that," Honourable Emnilda replies. "But it will take more than your belief to convince me." <<elseif $chp3_36b_5 is 3>> "He will be better than his uncle," you say. Honourable Emnilda raises an eyebrow at you. She is silent, letting your words settle between you. Her gaze remains steady, even over the din of the banquet hall. When she eventually speaks, her tone is stern. "You cannot assure that Prince Irus will be better than his uncle," Honourable Emnilda replies. "He has not yet led a kingdom and from what I gathered, the young Prince was not groomed to take the throne until very recently." You open your mouth to protest this, but Honourable Emnilda shakes her head. "No, you have said enough, $name," she interrupts. <<elseif $chp3_36b_5 is 4>> "He will be a strong ruler, one who will be able to stop the Blood Guard," you explain. Honourable Emnilda raises her eyebrows at your assertion, but she does not openly disagree with you. Taking this as a sign that Honourable Emnilda is receptive to this idea, you continue to speak. "Virion controls the Blood Guard, but that is because the Kingdom of Cyre has turned on its rightful ruler," you say. "After he deals with Prince Irus, who is to say that he will not attack another kingdom next?" "Greedy tyrants often have great appetites," Honourable Emnilda agrees. "The Blood Guard might turn on Virion in the end," you explain. "And a force like that without any authority to control it is bound to have deadly consequences for the rest of the regions." Honourable nods in thought, offering you a flicker of a smile. Her eyes gleam with newfound respect. "You have given me much to think about, $name," she says. "I will consider them well, before making my decision." <</if>> Queen Elora smiles. "I look forward to hearing your decision later, Honourable Emnilda." Honourable Emnilda inclines her head. "You must excuse me, Your Majesty. There are others that I must speak with." Honourable Emnilda bows before Queen Elora before casting you a nod. She turns towards the rest of the banquet hall, leaving you and the young Queen alone momentarily. [[Next.|chp3_36b_7]]

Alone with Queen Elora, she lets out a breath, allowing her shoulders to sag slightly. Noticing your look, Queen Elora offers you a soft smile, one that warms her dark eyes. She lets her eyes take in the $banquet_outfit of your attire and her smile widens. "You look splendid," Queen Elora compliments. "I am glad to see that the seamstress got your measurements right." "I do not understand," you reply, your eyebrows furrowing. Queen Elora meets your eyes. "Oh, I suppose no one told you. I thought you would like to have new clothes for the banquet so I had my seamtress make you some." <<set $chp3_36b_7 to 0>> [["You did not have to trouble yourself for me," you reply, touched by Queen Elora's generosity.|chp3_36b_8][$chp3_36b_7 +=1, $eloraRel +=2]] [[♡"I..." you murmur, pausing. "Thank you. I have never had new clothes made just for me."|chp3_36b_8][$chp3_36b_7 +=2, $eloraRom +=2, $eloraRel +=2, $shy_elora +=5]] [[♡"You spoil me," you tease. "However will I repay you for this gift?"|chp3_36b_8][$chp3_36b_7 +=3, $eloraRel +=2, $eloraRom +=2, $bold_elora +=5]] [["That was unnecessary," you reply. "You did not have to do that."|chp3_36b_8][$chp3_36b_7 +=4, $eloraRel +=2]] [["I did not need new clothes," you huff. "Or are you implying that mine would not have been good enough?"|chp3_36b_8][$chp3_36b_7 +=5, $eloraRel -=2]]

<<if $chp3_36b_7 is 1>> "You did not have to trouble yourself for me," you reply, touched by Queen Elora's generosity. Queen Elora smiles at you, her eyes softening as her dark gaze meets yours. The expression is so genuine that for a moment, it is hard to believe that she is the ruler of Vinia and that she is one of the most powerful people in the room. Yet, she stands now, talking to you, a simple fisherman's $heir. "There is no need to thank me," Queen Elora murmurs. "I was happy to do this. Iri is my friend and you helped him a great deal. Having new attire made for you is hardly enough to repay you." "Thank you," you respond. Queen Elora offers you a warm smile. "Please, $name. I know that Iri and I have been friends since children, but I would like to think that now that we know each other a little better that we too can become friends." You return her smile. "I would like that." Queen Elora nods. "Good, it is settled then. We shall be the best of friends, though I think mentioning it to Zikar might rile him up." A slow smile spreads across her face. "Though, I would seeing his reaction." You laugh in return, remembering Zikar's exaggerated expressions. One of the courtiers coughs, interrupting your conversation with the Queen. Sighing, Queen Elora glances at you. "I suppose we have spoken for too long," she murmurs. "Alas, my subjects await, all pining for my attention. We shall speak later, $name. But for now, go and enjoy yourself." <<elseif $chp3_36b_7 is 2>> "I..." you murmur, pausing. "Thank you. I have never had new clothes made just for me." Your cheeks heat under Queen Elora's gaze and you feel your breathing grow faster. Her smile widens as your expression and despite the courtiers who watch, Queen Elora draws closer to you. Her eyes are dark pools of an endless river, one that you cannot look away from. "I am glad to have been the first to give you this gift," she murmurs. "Truly, you look exquisite." You shudder as her breath brushes against your skin. This close, you can smell the jasmine perfume on her hair and the way that her heat seeps into your bones. You look up at the Queen and find that her face is as flushed as your own and you stumble back. "I... uh..." you stammer. Queen Elora laughs, her voice warm and filled with amusement. She reaches out, brushing her fingers against your knuckles. "You are delightful," she exclaims. "You must forgive me, $name, but I must not be seen talking too long with one person. People would start to talk and it is a little early for that, do you not agree?" You manage a nod, unable to trust your voice. Queen Elora smiles again, before she turns to rejoin the courtiers behind her, who quickly turn away as if they had not been eavedropping the entire time. <<elseif $chp3_36b_7 is 3>> "You spoil me," you tease. "However will I repay you for this gift?" Queen Elora's eyes flicker with a glint of desire as she leans closer towards you. This close, you are able to smell the fragrant perfume in her hair and feel the heat of her skin. She is radiant, you think, a beauty that you cannot look away from. "I do enjoy spoiling those I appreciate," she breathes. "Though, I can think of a few ways that you could repay my kindness." A shiver runs down your spine in anticipation of all the things that you could both be doing, instead of talking in the banquet hall. Suddenly, you want to draw her to you, to taste her mouth on yours, but by the way the other courtiers pretend not to watch you, you know that doing so would only earn you their ire. "It is a little crowded," you breathe. "I do not think my gift would be appropriate with an audience." Queen Elora tips her head back, her laughter spilling forth like honey. You enjoy her laugh, her expression suddenly open and warm. It is a strange look of sincerity, one that has been absent throughout the night on the young Queen's face. Excitement spreads through you, an addicting feeling from making Queen Elora laugh. "You taunt me," Queen Elora chuckles. "Perhaps it will be better then if we share this gift in private, hm?" Your mouth is suddenly dry and you want to lean forward touch her, but you refrain, all too aware of the looks from those around you. Instead, you offer Queen Elora a smirk. "I look forward to it," you murmur. Queen Elora's eyes dance with mirth and beneath it, longing. She glances towards the courtiers behind her. "You must forgive me, $name. I must keep up appearances, lest the guests start talking about our exchange in hushed whispers. We shall see each other later, but for now, enjoy yourself by keeping me in your mind." She reaches out, her soft fingers grazing your chin, before she returns to the courtiers that pretend not to have heard the entire conversation. <<elseif $chp3_36b_7 is 4>> "That was unnecessary," you reply. "You did not have to do that." Queen Elora's eyebrows furrow at your response, her gaze sweeping over your attire. "I do not understand," she says. "Is it not to your liking?" You shake your head. "No, it is not that. I simply... it seems a little too much effort to make for someone like me." This time, Queen Elora frowns. The sight of it mars the beauty of her face and you suddenly regret mentioning anything at all about the clothing she had made for you. You offer her a smile, beginning to explain your thoughts, but Queen Elora waves her hand, cutting you short. "Please, do not say that, $name," she breathes. "I would not have had these clothes made for you unless I truly wanted to. Your life was harsh, I know that, but you deserve better and if I can do that with some silly clothes, I will gladly do so." Your throat consticts and you are uncertain of what to say in response. You did not think that Queen Elora would bother about someone like you, not when it is Prince Irus who is her friend. She smiles at you, patting your wrist gently. "I must return to the courtiers now, $name," she explains. "But please, I want you to know that I am beginning to consider you as one of my friends. Go and enjoy yourself tonight." You nod, unable to speak. Queen Elora smiles at you, before she turns to leave. <<elseif $chp3_36b_7 is 5>> "I did not need new clothes," you huff. "Or are you implying that mine would not have been good enough?" Queen Elora frowns, her eyes darkening at your words. The courtiers behind her grow notably silent and you scowl, realising that they are eavesdropping on your exchange with the young Queen. "That was not my intention, $name," Queen Elora retorts. "I was only tying to be kind." "I do not need your kindness," you mutter. Queen Elora lets out a strained laugh, though it is a bitter sound. "No, you only need my protection. Forgive me, I must return to my other guests." She turns away, looking away pointedly from you as she returns to the courtiers that await her. Some glance at you curiously, for you doubt any other would have spoken so brazenly with the Queen. <</if>> [[Next.|chp3_banquet_landing]]

Sir Oren draws you towards where they stand, a small aclove that is hidden away from the other guests. Despite his drunkeness, you notice that Sir Oren scans the banquet hall every so often, perhaps his training so ingrained that is has become second nature. "Are you expecting danger?" you ask, when Sir Oren looks up again. Lord Redall laughs at your question, though it is filled with amusment. You glance towards him, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "You must forgive me, $name," Lord Redall chuckles. "But the only one in danger from Ore's stare is his siblings." "Siblings?" you question. Sir Oren finally turns to look at you, his cheeks reddening. "My younger sister and brother have attended the banquet. Nerena is supposed to be supervising them but I suspect that she is joining in their antics." Lord Redall clutches Sir Oren's shoulder, shaking it briefly. "Relax, my friend. They are enjoying the extravagance of our Queen." He glances at you. "And you, $name, tell me, do you think your Prince is enjoying himself too?" <<set $chp3_36c_1 to 0>> [["I would think so," you reply. "Everything is quite grand."|chp3_36c_2][$chp3_36c_1 +=1]] [["Of course," you answer. "I, too, am enjoying myself quite a bit."|chp3_36c_2][$chp3_36c_1 +=2]] [["I cannot speak for Prince Irus," you say. "His thoughts are his own."|chp3_36c_2][$chp3_36c_1 +=3]]

<<if $chp3_36c_1 is 1>> "I would think so," you reply. "Everything is quite grand." Lord Redall smiles at your response, but you notice that his eyes lack the same warmth in his expression. You stiffen, suddenly aware that the man before you is assessing your words. Despite Sir Oren's drunkeness, Lord Redall appears to be sober. "Yes, everything is quite grand," he replies. "Though, I suspect Prince Irus must be quite used to such grand parties." You nod at Lord Redall. He is right. Before his exile, Prince Irus would not have been living a hard life like you were in Salt Bay. He would have been a bastard, but a prince nonetheless. <<elseif $chp3_36c_1 is 2>> "Of course," you answer. "I, too, am enjoying myself quite a bit." Lord Redall offers you a fleeting smile, the expression in his eyes unwavering from the cunning that is there. He is testing you, you realise. Perhaps it is because he wishes to know whether to support Prince Irus' claim to Cyre, or perhaps it is because he is a wealthy lord at a banquet? "Yes, this must be your first grand party," Lord Redall remarks. "It must seem quite extravagant." "Yes," you mumble. "It does seem so." Lord Redall nods in response, his lips tugging into a smile, but it does not meet his eyes. <<elseif $chp3_36c_1 is 3>> "I cannot speak for Prince Irus," you say. "His thoughts are his own." You speak the truth, after all, despite travelling together when you fled Salt Bay, Prince Irus is by far still his own person. Neither of you have truly discussed your lives from before the night you fled together and you are unsure of what the Prince might feel about the banquet tonight, besides the pressure of having to gain the support of the Vinian councillors. "I see," Lord Redall murmurs. "I thought you might have been able to offer some insight into the Prince's thoughts, but I see it was foolish of me to ask you." You frown at Lord Redall's words, but by the way he looks away from you, you can tell that he is tired of this conversation. <</if>> Sir Oren finally returns his attention onto you and smiles ruefully. "I am sorry if I seem a little distracted, but my sister can be quite a handful and my brother usually goes along with her antics." "Nonsense," Lord Redall speaks. "You are only looking out for them, though I would suggest that you should let them have some fun." Sir Oren lets out a sigh, smiling faintly before he nods. This time, he turns fully so that he is no longer scanning the banquet hall behind him. You take this moment to examine his attire. He wears a dark coat that comes to his knees, the breast of his pocket covered in the gleaming metal insignia of his role as Captain of the Royal Vinian Guard. "So, what are we discussing?" Sir Oren asks. Lord Redall smirks, glancing at you. "Oh, I was merely enquiring whether or not Prince Irus would be worthy of gaining my support." It is not in fact what you were discussing, but by the way Lord Redall watches you, you realise that this is some sort of assessment. Still, you feel rankled by his tone and words, despite yourself. [[You excuse yourself from this conversation, not wanting to continue this game of navigating politics with Lord Redall.|chp3_banquet_landing]] [["Ah yes," you reply. "It is exactly what we were discussing."|chp3_36c_3]]

Perhaps surprised by your tenacity, Lord Redall appraises you with newfound respect, his lips quirking into a smile. Sir Oren glances at you, though, unlike Lord Redall, there is nothing unkind in the Captain's expression. "Redall was asking me about His Highness earlier, but I explained that you would be better suited to answering the questions," Sir Oren says. "What kind of questions?" you ask, your eyes shifting towards Lord Redall. "Oh, you know," Lord Redall replies. "What type of man he is and whether he harbours the same affectations as King Erlan did for a certain group of people." You bristle, as Lord Redall's eyes find yours. He does not say it out loud, but you know that he is referring to Ishari and its people, people like //you//. "Tell me, $name, why should I offer my loyalty to a man who has been exiled from his own kingdom?" Lord Redall asks. <<set $chp3_36c_3 to 0>><<set $redall_support to false>> [["Prince Irus will fight to keep everyone safe from the Blood Guard and his uncle, including the Ishari people," you emphasise.|chp3_36c_4][$chp3_36c_3 +=1, $redall_suport to true, $councillor_support +=1]] [["He is a better ruler than his uncle," you explain.|chp3_36c_4][$chp3_36c_3 +=2]] [["Prince Irus is different from his father," you say.|chp3_36c_4][$chp3_36c_3 +=3]] <<if $leadership gt 55>> [["He has studied the leaders of the past and will ensure he rules Cyre with the same values as they did," you explain. "He will protect everyone, even those his father named enemies."|chp3_36c_4][$chp3_36c_3 +=4, $redall_support to true, $councillor_support +=1]]<</if>>

<<if $chp3_36c_3 is 1>> "Prince Irus will fight to keep everyone safe from the Blood Guard and his uncle, including the Ishari people," you emphasise. Lord Redall does not reply, instead, his deep eyes seem to peer into you as they sift through your meaning. Whatever he finds, it seems to have been the right thing to have said because Lord Redall offers you a smile. This time, it reaches his grey eyes. "It is heartening to hear someone speak up on behalf of Prince Irus, especially one who has Ishari roots," Lord Redall explains. "Many have doubted whether or not the Prince is worthy of our aid." "I assure you that Prince Irus is deserving of your help," you explain. "He will remedy the wrongs of his father's past." "Very well," Lord Redall replies. "I will keep your words in mind, when I make my decision." He glances at Sir Oren, smiling softly. "If you excuse me, my friend, I must speak to the other guests." <<elseif $chp3_36c_3 is 2>> "He is a better ruler than his uncle," you explain. Lord Redall nods, though he does not speak. His eyes scan your face, unwavering and hard as they take in your words. He must not like the meaning of your response, as Lord Redall lets out a breath, his dark eyebrows furrowing. "Many would say that King Virion is a better ruler than King Erlan," Lord Redall remarks. "And there are those who would disagree and claim that King Erlan was one of the greatest kings to have ruled Cyre." "That is not-" But Lord Redall interrupts you. "All I am saying, $name is that whether or not Prince Irus will make a better ruler matters not to those who risk much more if they choose to support an exiled prince." "Redall, perhaps you should consider what $name has said," Sir Oren says. Lord Redall glances at Sir Oren, his gaze softening. "I have much to consider, my friend. But for now, you must excuse me as I tend to other matters." <<elseif $chp3_36c_3 is 3>> "Prince Irus is different from his father," you say. "And the same can be said about King Virion," Lord Redall replies. "It does not matter to others, $name, whether Prince Irus is different or not. What matters is proving himself to be worthy of the councillors' support." "How can he prove himself if none of you want to support him?" you huff. Lord Redall frowns at your words. "Sometimes, one must fight a losing battle for their true motivations to be revealed. I cannot say whether Prince Irus will be different from his father, simply because you say it so. In his time of need, he might prove that statement to be wrong." Sir Oren interjects then, his voice soothing. "At least consider what $name has said, Redall." Lord Redall glances at Sir Oren, his harsh expression smoothing slightly. "I will consider what I must, Ore. If you excuse me, there are others that I need to see." <<elseif $chp3_36c_3 is 4>> "He has studied the leaders of the past and will ensure he rules Cyre with the same values as they did," you explain. "He will protect everyone, even those his father named enemies." Lord Redall takes in your words and the vehemence in your tone. He studies your face, your expression, before a flicker of a smile spreads through his lips. "You speak of Prince Irus in high regard," Lord Redall comments. "It is strange, though I must say that I am pleasantly surprised by your support of him, considering your heritage." "Prince Irus does not consider the Ishari people his enemies," you reply. "So it seems," Lord Redall murmurs. "Very well, you have given me a lot to consider, $name." He glances at Sir Oren, and his smile softens. "You must excuse me, my friend. There are others that I must still talk to." <</if>> [[Next.|chp3_36c_5]]

As Lord Redall leaves, you are left alone with Sir Oren. The Captain seems to have sobered slightly, while you conversed with Lord Redall, though his eyes still gleam brightly. Sir Oren catches your look and offers you a smile, his genial expression so different from what you were accustomed to in Salt Bay. "I apologise," Sir Oren mumbles. "Redall is not an easy man to get along with." Despite Sir Oren's words, you were not blind to the familiarity in which Lord Redall and Sir Oren spoke. There had been an easiness in their interaction that only could come from years of friendship, or perhaps more. "You and Lord Redall seem to be good friends," you comment. Sir Oren's hazel eyes widen, before redness begins to dot along his cheeks. Rubbing the back of his neck, Sir Oren does not meet your eyes when he speaks. "We used to court," he explains. "Years ago, before I became the Captain and before he became a lord. It ended all very amicably and now we are just good friends." <<set $chp3_36c_5 to 0>> [["That is good to hear," you reply. "Not many would continue as friends after their courtship ended."|chp3_36c_6][$chp3_36c_5 +=1, $orenRel +=2]] [[♡"Oh," you mumble, feeling a prickling of jealousy creep up your chest. "That is... good to know."|chp3_36c_6][$chp3_36c_5 +=2, $orenRel +=2, $orenRom +=2, $shy_oren +=5]] [[♡"I see," you murmur, grinning. "So you are currently able to court another, then?"|chp3_36c_6][$chp3_36c_5 +=3, $orenRel +=2, $orenRom +=2, $bold_oren +=5]] [["I see," you reply with a shrug. "It must be nice to have a friend like Lord Redall."|chp3_36c_6][$chp3_36c_5 +=4, $orenRel +=2]] [["It seems that you only remain friends when those friends prove to be important," you mutter.|chp3_36c_6][$chp3_36c_5 +=5, $orenRel -=2]]

<<if $chp3_36c_5 is 1>> "That is good to hear," you reply. "Not many would continue as friends after their courtship ended." Sir Oren flashes you a smile, the sight causing his hazel eyes to light up at your words. There is an innate kindness about Sir Oren that is absent from many around you and it is something that you find yourself enjoying about the Captain. "No, not many would," Sir Oren agrees. "But before our relationship, Redall and I were good friends. We met during my training as a guard." You smile at the fondness at which Sir Oren speaks of Lord Redall. Though you have not known the Captain long, it is evident that he values his friendships greatly. You have not had friends, growing up in Salt Bay, so you are uncertain what it must be like. Sir Oren must see something in your expression, because his gaze softens. "I would like to call you my friend too, $name," Sir Oren says. "If you are comfortable with having me as one." You find yourself nodding in agreement. "Yes, I would like that very much." Sir Oren grins, but before he can speak, he seems to notice something beyond your shoulder. Muttering under his breath, he casts you an apologetic look. "I am sorry, but it seems that my siblings have finally found something to break," he sighs. "I shall see you later, at the feast." <<elseif $chp3_36c_5 is 2>> "Oh," you mumble, feeling a prickling of jealousy creep up your chest. "That is... good to know." You do not know what to label this feeling, this burgeoning thing that creeps up your throat. It cannot be jealousy, and yet, the thought that Sir Oren and Lord Redall used to court is enough to bring the feeling to the fore once again. You swallow, a hard lump in the back of your throat, but you are unable to voice your thoughts. Sir Oren gazes down at you, his hazel eyes prickling with concern and that somehow makes the emotion you are feeling worse. You do not want his concern. You want- What do you want? Sir Oren leans closer, his lips moving and you realise that you want what he had offered Lord Redall, his affection, his love. "$name," Sir Oren calls. You blink and you realise that you have not said anything. Sir Oren's face is incredibly close to your own and you let out a sharp breath, stumbling away from the Captain's proximity. Sir Oren's eyebrows furrow at your display and you find that your cheeks are hot with embarrassment. "Are you well?" Sir Oren asks. "Do you need to sit down?" "I am fine," you mumble, your words strained. "I just... it's that I..." Sir Oren frowns, his eyes moving past your shoulder, before he mutters under his breath. "I am sorry, $name. My siblings seem intent on driving me mad tonight. You do not mind if I-" "Go," you blurt, wincing at the loudness of your voice. "I mean to say, I am fine. You should go." Sir Oren offers you another smile, a brief one that sends heat through you, before he strides away. <<elseif $chp3_36c_5 is 3>> "I see," you murmur, grinning. "So you are currently able to court another, then?" You watch with delight as it takes a few moments before the meaning of your words seem to catch up to Sir Oren's understanding and when it does, a red blush spreads across his face. It is amusing to watch Sir Oren splutter, as he averts his eyes from your gaze while he struggles to come up with a response. Stepping closer to Sir Oren, you take in his handsome face, the way that his hazel eyes seem to shift from green to brown to the way his lips always seem like he is smiling. You imagine what it would feel like to kiss him, to feel him flustered and warm under your touch and find yourself looking up once more, to meet his gaze. "I, ahem," Sir Oren mumbles, clearing his throat. "I am... well, it is not like I am courting another person right now." "Oh? That is good to hear, Sir Oren," you tease. "I would hate it if you were stolen by another." "S-Stolen?" Sir Oren repeats, his ears matching the same shade of red as his face. "I assure you that I am not- I mean..." "There is no need to stumble over your words, Sir Oren," you breathe. "I do not bite. Not unless you want me to." Sir Oren's eyes widen and you watch him swallow, his throat bobbing at your insinuation. Perhaps wanting to flee, Sir Oren looks around the banquet before he lets out a mutter. "I must go, $name," he blurts. "My siblings are getting int trouble and I... well, I must stop them. I shall speak with you later." He does not wait for your response as he turns, nearly running away from where you stand. Were it not for his red face, you might have been offended. <<elseif $chp3_36c_5 is 4>> "I see," you reply with a shrug. "It must be nice to have a friend like Lord Redall." Sir Oren nods, though his expression turns conflicted when he hears your words. Glancing to look at you, you find that Sir Oren wears an expression that is equal parts sad and hopeful. "It is good to have friends," Sir Oren agrees. "Especially ones who will support you when you are struggling." You have not had much experience with friendship, especially not in Salt Bay. Your Ishari heritage prevented you from being accepted by the others in Salt Bay and your father had not been the most social man to spend your days with. It had been a difficult childhood for you and a lonely one at that. "I hope that you do not mind that I would like to think that we are friends too, $name," Sir Oren murmurs. You blink, taken aback by his words and look up to meet his gaze. "I... you do not need to offer me friendship out of pity, Sir Oren." Sir Oren shakes his head. "No, it is not it at all. I would like to be your friend, $name." You stare at Sir Oren, still struggling to understand why he would want to be your friend, but you find that the thought of rejecting his offer impossible. Managing a nod, you find your lips pulling into a smile. Sir Oren's expression mirrors yours and you feel something akin to happiness surging through you. Something beyond your shoulder catches Sir Oren's gaze and he sighs. "Forgive me, $name. My siblings have finally broken something. We shall speak later." You nod, watching as the Captain strides away, but not before offering you a gentle smile. <<elseif $chp3_36c_5 is 5>> "It seems that you only remain friends when those friends prove to be important," you mutter. Sir Oren's eyebrows furrow and the usual warm expression on his face is absent. He casts you a severe look, one that is so out of place on his features that you wonder if he is hurting himself. "That is not true," Sir Oren replies. "If that was the case then I would not be speaking to you." You roll your eyes. "We are not friends, Captain." Sir Oren's expression darkens. "I see. Very well, I shall leave you to enjoy the banquet in peace." He turns away, not offering you another glance as he strides off. <</if>> [[Next.|chp3_banquet_landing]]

<<if $chp3_37 is 1>> You find it a little offensive that you are considered to be so low in status amongst the other guests. After all, you have spent the greater part of the past two weeks living in the palace and you have also had the opportunity to witness the preparation of the banquet. Still, your efforts must not be worth much for you to have been seated opposite a garish woman who seems to have drank a few too many goblets of wine. <<elseif $chp3_37 is 2>> You understand that neither your nor Prince Irus are high in status amongst the other guests and do not mind where you sit. It is after all, the consequence of being a fisherman's $heir and a prince in exile. You doubt that if it were not for Queen Elora's friendship that either of you would have even been allowed at the banquet. <<elseif $chp3_37 is 3>> You are upset that Queen Elora would not have you seated closer to her, considering her friendship with Prince Irus. While Queen Elora has established herself as someone who seemingly puts her kingdom above all else, you had hoped that her friendship with Prince Irus would have given you a seat much closer to her, rather than from across a garish woman who giggles drunkenly. <<elseif $chp3_37 is 4>> You do not care where you sit at the table. After all, the banquet is filled with many who consider themselves important, yet you all still sit at the same table. You do not care if you are seated across from a garish woman, nor would it have mattered if you were seated beside Queen Elora herself. Either way, you are not alone. Your cousin sits on one side of you with Prince Irus on the other. <</if>> Your thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of servants, carrying heavy trays, laden with food. For a moment, you find yourself staring at the meals, braised vegetables and spiced loaves, each more aromatic than the last. When the servants finally retreat, you find that the banquet table is now covered in an insurmountable amount of meals. Despite the evident hunger in some of the guests' eyes, no one dares to start eating. Instead, they turn towards the head of the table, where Queen Elora sits. For a moment, her dark eyes seem to find yours, over the table.<<if $eloraRel gte 55>> Her lips pull up into a small smile, as she stands up.<<else>> She lets out a breath, before standing up.<</if>> [[Next.|chp3_39]]

The chatter around the table grows silent at the sight of Queen Elora standing. She cuts small figure, you realise, but no less authoritative as she gazes across the table. Her circlet, gold and gleaming seems only to emphasise her status before the gathered guests. She is certainly a sight to behold. Clearing her throat, Queen Elora begins to speak. "Gathered guests, councillors and friends from other kingdoms, the Kingdom of Vinia, welcomes you all to our celebratory banquet tonight." There is some murmuring amongst the assembled guests, though they quiet when Elora continues. "Osk is a time of celebration, when we give thanks to Goddess Calena for our bountiful harvests," Queen Elora explains. "We celebrate her blessings with a feast fit for the Twelve." A few guests seem enraptured by Queen Elora's words, perhaps devout followers of the Twelve, pleased to listen to their ruler speak of them. Though you do not miss the bored look on Prince Irus' face, shared by some of the other guests. "It is my hope that we are able to share in this joyous occassion, one that must be shared with our neighbours who have been loyal to Vina," Queen Elora states, her eyes shifting onto Prince Irus. "Tonight, we will partake in the feasts and the drinks, keeping in mind that we will ensure to make the Kingdom of Vinia stronger in time." There are a few raucous cheers from the guests, while others nod with wide smiles. Queen Elora seems pleased by the reaction and nods. "Very well, let us not waste words and partake in this magnificent feast tonight." [[Next.|chp3_40]]

The feast begins in earnest, with the only sounds around the scraping of cutlery against plates. For a moment, all you can do is stare at the different meals around you. <<if $MC_veg is true>>There are a number of dishes of grilled vegetables, some curried and others simply roasted on one side. To the other, you see steamed rice and flat breads, each infused with an aromatic blend of herbs and spices.<<elseif $MC_pes is true>>In front of you is a blend of vegetables and skewered scallops, drizzled with aromatic oils and herbs. On another plate, you find rice, infused with herbs and garlic, along with numerous curried vegetables.<<else>>To your right, you notice dishes of meat, venison and lamb and roasted duck, all cooked and dripping with oils and gravies. On the other side of the table, bowls of vegetables and rice, with flat breads, have been placed so that their aromatic scents can be smelt by anyone seated close enough.<</if>> You eat slowly at first, but it soon becomes hard to escape your enjoyment of the meals. Each has been cooked perfectly, the flavours and amount of choices laid out before you, enough to coax out your appetite. You eat until your lips are stained with the oily juices and remnants of spices from the food before you, taking a moment to wash it down with a goblet of <<if $MC_sober is true>>honeyed juice<<else>>honeyed wine.<</if>> [[Next.|chp3_41]]

The feasting is soon over, with most guests lingering on the edges of the banquet hall. You are still seated at the table, though some time during the chaos of the feast, Prince Irus seems to have wandered away from his seat. You cast a glance over the rest of the banquet hall, taking note of the various guests, some swaying on their feet, while others seem to watch Prince Irus warily. A raucous tune fills the room, drawing your attention towards the source of the sound. Various musicians, playing stringed instruments and drums, sit atop a raised dais. You watch as guests begin to draw each other into dances, some elaborate and wild and others, concise and slow. There does not seem to be a structured manner of dancing, drawing cheers from those watching. Still, as you watch the dancing, you find your eyes drawing towards those you are familiar with. You notice Prince Irus, surrounded by courtiers who seem to be drawing him into a dance. At the far side of the banquet hall, Queen Elora sips from a goblet, though she is surrounded by many guards who seem to stop any guests from approaching her. And hidden in the shadows of a darkened nook, you spy Sir Oren who watches over the banquet hall with a severe expression. Zikar seems to have disappeared with the attendants, leaving you alone. <<set $chp3_tender_irus to false>><<set $chp3_tender_elora to false>><<set $chp3_tender_oren to false>><<set $tender_count to 0>> [[You decide to approach Prince Irus.|chp3_42a][$chp3_tender_irus to true, $tender_count +=1]] [[You make your way towards Queen Elora.|chp3_42b][$chp3_tender_elora to true, $tender_count +=1]] [[You join Sir Oren, positioned in the corner of the room.|chp3_42c][$chp3_tender_oren to true, $tender_count +=1]]

You step away from the banquet table, your feet carrying you towards the exiled prince. Prince Irus laughs at something, though you cannot say what exactly the courtier must have said to have put him in such a good mood. You realise, as you watch him from afar that Prince Irus appears to have transitioned from someone feeling lost to someone who //belongs//. There is an ease in which he talks to the courtiers around him, a charming grin on his face and eyes flickering with a promise of something more. For a moment, you can only gaze at him, the way that he smiles and the way that he resists the advances of the courtiers pulling at his arm. And then, as if sensing your gaze, Prince Irus looks up and meets your eyes. "$name," he calls, his smile widening slightly. He extricates his arm from one of the courtiers and strides up to you. "Blood and tears, please tell me that you are here to rescue me." You cast a glance at the courtiers behind Prince Irus, their gazes curious and some, envious. Perhaps they are unused to being rejected by exiled princes? Your eyes return to Prince Irus, taking in the blue of his irises and the flushed heat of his cheeks. The smell of wine is faint on his breath. <<set $chp3_42a to 0>> [["Yes," you laugh. "I am here to rescue you from the attentions of your admirers."|chp3_42a_1][$chp3_42a +=1, $irusRel +=2]] [[♡"Oh," you mumble, flushing under his attention. "Yes. I mean, if you need rescuing."|chp3_42a_1][$chp3_42a +=2, $irusRel +=2, $irusRom +=2, $flirt_shy +=5]] [[♡"Of course," you purr. "I am here to ward away those who would steal you for themselves."|chp3_42a_1][$chp3_42a +=3, $irusRel +=2, $irusRom +=2, $flirt_bold +=5]] [["I suppose if you need rescuing," you respond.|chp3_42a_1][$chp3_42a +=4, $irusRel +=2]] [["What?" you grumble, unimpressed. "You cannot even ward away courtiers by yourself?"|chp3_42a_1][$chp3_42a +=5, $irusRel -=2]]

<<if $chp3_42a is 1>> "Yes," you laugh. "I am here to rescue you from the attentions of your admirers." Prince Irus' grin widens and he slings his arm over your shoulder. As he draws you away from the courtiers who watch him with dismay, Prince Irus throws them a casual wave. "Sorry to disappoint you, but it seems my esteemed companion is in dire need for my time," he explains. "Exile business, all very boring, I assure you." Once you are far enough from the courtiers, Prince Irus lets out a relived sigh. He glances at you, his smile smaller, though no less sincere. He does not pull away his arm from your shoulder, steering you towards a far corner of the room. "I have to admit, being around so many courtiers is something I do not miss," Prince Irus sighs. You raise your eyebrows in confusion. "Truly? I thought you might enjoy it more." Prince Irus shrugs. "Perhaps once," he answers. "But now, it is hard to drink myself to a stupour, dancing with people who only see me for what I represent." "And what do you represent?" you ask. Prince Irus fixes you with a wan smile. "What do you think? All I am to them is a prince in exile. Once the novelty wears off, so will their attention." <<elseif $chp3_42a is 2>> "Oh," you mumble, flushing under his attention. "Yes. I mean, if you need rescuing." Prince Irus' smile widens, amusement flickering though his blue gaze. He slips his arm through your, drawing you until you are pressed against his side. You can feel his heat through his coat and the way that the faint smell of perfume clings to his hair. It is hard to concetrate, when being this close to Prince Irus causes your heartbeat to quicken. He turns towards the courtiers, who eye you curiously. "I must apologise. $name needs me to save the day. You know how it is." Before you can protest, Prince Irus draws you away from the pointed stares of the courtiers, though your mind can only focus on the the way Prince Irus feels pressed against your side. His proximity sends shivers through you and you find that your mouth is dry. When you are far enough that the courtiers are out of sight, Prince Irus lets out a breath. His eyes glimmer with gratitude, though his lips pull into a teasing smile, one that you have become accustomed to in the time that you have known him. "Now they will be gossiping about our sordid love affair," Prince Irus murmurs. You jump, your eyes widening. "What? But that is untrue. I mean to say that-" Your stammering is interrupted by Prince Irus' chuckle. The sound is low and vibrates through your bones. You realise that your arms are still linked and suddenly grow warm at the sight. "I am only teasing, $name," Prince Irus laughs. "Unless, you want it to be true." "That is... no," you breathe. <<elseif $chp3_42a is 3>> "Of course," you purr. "I am here to ward away those who would steal you for themselves." Prince Irus' eyebrows raise at your words and you see heat flash through his eyes. He draws towards you, ignoring the pointed looks of the courtiers behind him, before he draws you close to his side. Through his coat, you feel Prince Irus' heat and the hardness of his form pressing into you. It sends a shiver down your spine and without thinking, you draw him closer to you. The tittering of the courtiers draws your attention to them. You watch, vaguely amused by the stares and whispers they cast you. "I must apologise," Prince Irus calls out to them, "I am afraid that $name cannot go a single moment without me. You must excuse me." Prince Irus guides you away from the courtiers, his eyes flashing with warmth as he gazes at you. For a moment, it is hard to look away from his stare. Your eyes trace along his handsome features, the way that his lips curve into a grin at your inspection and the way that he seems to lean in closer towards you. His proximity is addictive, you think as you move towards a corner of the banquet hall. "My savior," Prince Irus breathes. "However will I repay you?" You smirk, your eyes meeting his. "I can think of many ways." "Oh? Perhaps you can share them with me in detail?" Prince Irus replies. <<elseif $chp3_42a is 4>> "I suppose if you need rescuing," you respond. Prince Irus lets out a relieved breath, before he draws away from the courtiers and steps towards you. The courtiers behind him cast you curious glances, before whispering to each other. You frown at their stares, before turning to face Prince Irus fully. "Come $name," Prince Irus says. He steers you away from the courtiers. "I am sorry for asking you to save me from them." You shrug, craning your neck to glance back at the courtiers behind you. They titter amongst themselves, but make no move to follow Prince Irus as he leads you towards a quieter corner of the banquet hall. "It is alright," you answer. "I must admit that am confused why you would need my help to leave." Prince Irus offers you a wan smile, a breath escaping him. For the first time since you've seen him tonight, he apppears to be exhausted. "I suppose that I did not want to insult any of them," he explains. "They may appear harmless enough, but most courtiers are good at carrying gossip to those important." "Like the councillors?" you ask. "Exactly like the councillors," he replies. <<elseif $chp3_42a is 5>> "What?" you grumble, unimpressed. "You cannot even ward away courtiers by yourself?" A flash of irritation passes through Prince Irus' eyes but he does his best to mask it. Instead, he strides towards where you stand, lowering his voice so that the other courtiers cannot hear him speak. "Just do me this one favour," he hisses. He does not wait for your reply, instead, steering you away from the courtiers without looking back at them. You turn your head, catching the way that the courtiers whisper and stare in your direction with pointed looks. You have the urge to glare at them, but Prince Irus pulls you towards a corner, taking you out of sight from them. "There," Prince Irus sighs. "That was not so hard, was it?" You scowl. "You did not need my help to leave." "I could not have simply left without angering them," Prince Irus mutters. You roll your eyes. "Who cares what they think?" "I care," Prince Irus retorts. "And so will the councillors if they hear that I was snubbing the courtiers." You grumble, though you remain silent, a quiet tension settling over the both of you. <</if>> [[Next.|chp3_42a_2]]

<<if $chp2_irus_ring is true>>As you stand beside Prince Irus, you catch his eyes shifting to your hand, where the golden ring he gifted you rests. He smiles slightly, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. "You are wearing the ring," he murmurs. You glance down at it and smile in response. "I am." He nods to himself, his own lips pulling into a warm smile to mimic yours. "It suits you." <</if>> The longer you stand in the corner, the more crowded it soon becomes. Dancing guests begin to drift closer towards where you stand and Prince Irus makes a face. He catches your eyes in his, before nodding towards an open doorway that lets in the night's breeze. "Shall we get some air?" he asks. [[You nod, following Prince Irus outside the banquet hall.|chp3_42a_3][$irusRel +=5]] [[You shake your head, wanting to be left alone.|chp3_42_landing]]

You weave through the crowded hall, following Prince Irus as he strides through the room with an effortless confidence that causes those around him to move aside. When you eventually step out of the doors, you are greeted by the cool air, brushing against your warm skin and realise how humid the banquet hall had been inside. Taking a moment to enjoy the silence, you let your eyes travel across the night sky. The moon is waning, but it allows enough of its glow to filter down where you stand. Prince Irus seems to have led you onto a balcony, attached to the banquet hall. Below you, you are able to glimpse the wide gardens of the palace. Sounds of the festivities from inside the banquet hall, spill through the open doors, but it is nearly muted from here. "It is beautiful, is it not?" Prince Irus asks. You meet his eyes. "It is." He smiles in response, his gaze contemplative. "I used to attend banquets like these all the time. Before I was supposed to be the heir to Cyre." His smile falters. "Now, all it does is remind me of what I've lost." <<set $chp3_42a_3 to 0>> [["This is only temporary," you murmur. "I am certain that the councillors will support you in your bid to reclaim Cyre."|chp3_42a_4][$chp3_42a_3 +=1]] [["It must be hard to be surrounded by such familiarity, knowing that it is not truly your life anymore," you respond.|chp3_42a_4][$chp3_42a_3 +=2]] [["You cannot look at it that way," you reply. "You need to be stronger, Irus, if you wish to reclaim your throne."|chp3_42a_4][$chp3_42a_3 +=3]]

<<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "banquet_end" loop play>> There are shouts all around you as guests begin to panic and some try to flee the banquet hall. For a moment, all you can do is stare at the chaos around you. The music has stopped, and with it, a sense of dread has snaked over you. You scan the crowd, your eyes wide. And then, you see them. The familiar armour, the ruthlessness of the Blood Guard. You are breathless. For a moment, you cannot think or speak. The Blood Guard who hunted you, destroying Salt Bay, now stands before you. You are unsure how this happened. Vinia is supposed to be safe. This banquet was supposed to be protected. A quick glance at Sir Oren and Nerena tells you that they are as surprised as you feel. Ahead of you, you hear Prince Irus mutter a curse. He turns, his blue eyes wide as they find you. This was not supposed to happen. You were all supposed to be safe here. Whatever illusions of safety you had falls away completely when a dark haired man, with a sharp sneer, steps out from the Blood Guard. He wears an armour like theirs, but the crown on his head, places him apart from them. [[Next.|chp3_44]]

<<if $chp3_42a_3 is 1>> "This is only temporary," you murmur. "I am certain that the councillors will support you in your bid to reclaim Cyre." Your voice seems to bring Prince Irus' attention towards you. His eyes shift over your features, before he offers you a weak smile. It is a look of someone who has already been defeated, so you persist in your assurance. "You are the rightful ruler to Cyre," you explain. "And even if they are blind to that, surely, they will see how unfit Virion is to rule a kingdom." "Perhaps," Prince Irus agrees. "Or perhaps they will only see a boy pretending to know what he is doing." "I believe in you," you reply. "I know that the others will too." <<elseif $chp3_42a_3 is 2>> "It must be hard to be surrounded by such familiarity, knowing that it is not truly your life anymore," you respond. Prince Irus lets out a breath, one that belies his exhaustion and the weight of his true purpose here at the banquet. When he looks up at you, there is a sorrowful expression on his face, one that conflicts with the regal appearance that he has been fitted with for tonight. "I sometimes think that none of this is even worth it," he replies. "When my uncle cast me out, none of my supposed friends even wanted to speak to me anymore. I cannot help but wonder if anything I did before this was ever truly meaningful." You frown at him. "Of course it was. You cannot let your uncle's actions sour your memories, Irus. It will only be giving into his goals of stealing the throne from you." Prince Irus nods, a thoughtful expression on his face. <<elseif $chp3_42a_3 is 3>> "You cannot look at it that way," you reply. "You need to be stronger, Irus, if you wish to reclaim your throne." Your hard voice seems to startle Prince Irus and he looks at you, a flash of hurt in his expression. Perhaps he had expected a soothing ear, but reassuring him will not help him claim back the Kingdom of Cyre from his uncle. Pressing forward, you continue. "Virion will use your doubts against you," you say. "He will twist your actions to suit his own goals. You cannot let that happen, not if you wish to succeed." Prince Irus lets out a tired breath. "But what if it is the truth? I know nothing about being a king or even how to be a good prince." "You will not know unless you try," you answer. "Besides, you have me and I am certain that others will support you." "I hope that you are right, $name," he murmurs. <</if>> [[Next.|chp3_42a_5]]

You both fall into silence, the only sounds coming from inside the banquet hall. Prince Irus leans against the balustrade, his eyes moving over the gardens below the balcony. You move to stand beside him, letting the quiet of the moment, lull your thoughts. "$name," Prince Irus says, his voice breaking the quiet. You look at him, noticing that he has stepped closer to you. There is a moment of hesitation, neither of you speaking. His eyes linger on your face, as if trying to memorise your features. <<if $irusRom gte 15>> "I wanted to tell you that I have come to depend on you greatly," he murmurs. "You are a good friend and..." His words drift off, his eyes settling over your mouth. Heat spreads through you, a tidal wave of emotions crashing over your mind. It is hard to look away from Prince Irus' face, not when he stares at you as though there is nothing else worthy of his attention. "And?" you prompt. Prince Irus draws even closer, his breath brushing against your cheeks. "And I would really like to kiss you." You still, unable to breathe. It takes you a moment to remember to swallow a breath and even longer, to comprehend Prince Irus' words. He stares at you, not moving away but not moving any closer. He is waiting, you realise, for your permission. <<set $chp3_irus_kiss to 0>><<set $chp3_kissingIrus to false>> [[You manage a nod, feeling warm and tingly at the prospect of being kissed by Prince Irus.|chp3_42a_6][$chp3_irus_kiss +=1, $chp3_kissingIrus to true, $irusRom +=10]] [["I...I have never kissed anyone," you murmur. "I do not think that I will be any good at it."|chp3_42a_6][$chp3_irus_kiss +=2, $chp3_kissingIrus to true, $irusRom +=10]] [[You reach out, drawing his mouth to yours in desperation.|chp3_42a_6][$chp3_irus_kiss +=3, $chp3_kissingIrus to true, $irusRom +=10]] [["I... it is too much for me, Irus," you breathe, not wanting to kiss him right now.|chp3_42a_6][$chp3_irus_kiss +=4, $irusRom +=10]] <<else>> "I wanted to tell you that I have come to depend on you greatly," he murmurs. "You are a good friend $name." You glance at Prince Irus, taking note of the smile that pulls at his face. His eyes are bright, under the glow of the moon and there is a genuine affection in his expression as he gazes at you. Warmth spreads through you, at the realisation that for better or worse, the both of you have become companions and even friends. As you look over his features, you find yourself thinking about your travels with Prince Irus. It has been difficult, though perhaps because of that, you have grown closer together. <<set $chp3_42a_5 to 0>> [["I am grateful for your friendship as well," you answer with a smile.|chp3_42a_6][$chp3_42a_5 +=1, $irusRel +=5]] [[You hug Prince Irus, wanting him to know that you are grateful for his friendship.|chp3_42a_6][$chp3_42a_5 +=2, $irusRel +=5]] <</if>>

<<if $chp3_irus_kiss is 1>> You manage a nod, feeling warm and tingly at the prospect of being kissed by Prince Irus. It is all the permission that Prince Irus seems to need. It takes only a second for him to reach out, slipping his palm against your chin. His fingers graze your skin, tilting your mouth so that it is angled to line up with his own lips. Your heartbeat thunders under your chest. You hold you breath, dizzy with anticipation. Prince Irus' breath, a heated thing that smells faintly of spiced wine, reaches you. Is it wrong not to close your eyes, you wonder? You do not want to miss a moment of this and yet, when Prince Irus draws your mouth to his, you find your eyes closing against his touch. He kisses you slowly, almost tenderly. Your heart throbs painfully in your chest but there is no other word to describe how much you want more. His mouth does not move away, as you expected it would. No, Prince Irus' hands slip down your jaw until they grip onto your shoulders. His thumbs slide across your collarbone and you let out a sharp breath. Prince Irus chuckles softly and the sound reverberates through you. Pressing you against the balustrade, you feel the coldness of the stone behind you, but it is soon replaced by the feeling of one of his knees between yours, pressing you closer to his body as he holds you against his embrace. You cannot stop the little sounds that escape you. It takes all your strength just to not moan into the kiss. Prince Irus pulls back slightly, his breathing ragged and his eyes dark as they find yours. "$name, I-" But his voice is cut off. A sharp crash, followed by screams pierce the air. Prince Irus blinks, whatever tenderness that you both shared, disappearing into confusion and surprise. He pulls away from you, the loss of his warmth enough for you to reach out for his hands. Someone comes through the doors of the banquet hall. It takes you a moment to realise that it is Nerena. Her eyes are wide and then, she sees you and Prince Irus. "You need to get inside now," she hisses. "Your uncle is here." <<elseif $chp3_irus_kiss is 2>> "I...I have never kissed anyone," you murmur. "I do not think that I will be any good at it." He chuckles softly, drawing closer still until his lips brush yours in barely more than a whisper. You want to close the distance between you, to touch him, but you do not know how. His hand cups your cheek, fingers tracing across your skin gently, sending shivers down your spine. "Then allow me to guide you," he murmurs. "I assure you that I will make it memorable for you." He kisses you then. A soft press of his lips, sweet and lingering, but still enough to make you dizzy and warm all at once. Prince Irus pulls back only slightly, just enough that you can see his eyes gleaming with affection, and then, the look in his eyes darkens as he presses forward again, this time, hungrier than before. His fingers grip your face tightly, keeping your lips against him and you find yourself leaning into his kiss, yearning for the heat that surges between the both of you. Your hands grasp at the front of his coat, tangling in the material as a soft sound escapes your throat. It seems to urge Prince Irus closer as he presses you against the balustrade, the sharp stone not enough to deter you from the Prince's kiss. Your lips part slightly as you struggle to swallow a breath. Prince Irus reaches out, one of his hands slides up to grip at the nape of your neck, pulling your head back so that he can deepen the kiss further. You let him, submitting to his touch while the need rises inside you, desperate and insistent. He pulls away all too soon and your eyes flutter open. Prince Irus gazes at you, his breathing slightly ragged. "$name, I-" But his voice is cut off. A sharp crash, followed by screams pierce the air. Prince Irus blinks, whatever tenderness that you both shared, disappearing into confusion and surprise. He pulls away from you, the loss of his warmth enough for you to reach out for his hands. Someone comes through the doors of the banquet hall. It takes you a moment to realise that it is Nerena. Her eyes are wide and then, she sees you and Prince Irus. "You need to get inside now," she hisses. "Your uncle is here." <<elseif $chp3_irus_kiss is 3>> You reach out, drawing his mouth to yours in desperation. A pleased sound rumbles in the back of his throat. He does not hesitate to respond to your lips, his arms slipping around your waist and pulling you into him. Your hands find his hair, threading themselves through the blond curls while the other settles on his chest, feeling the racing beat of his heart beneath his skin. You are breathing in time with each other, lost in the sensation of his heat and scent. When your lungs protest their lack of oxygen you pull away, resting your forehead against Prince Irus', unable to let go of him now. Your fingers tighten in his tunic. You don't know how long it is before you regain your breath and your senses. His arms tighten around your waist again and you can feel his smile against your skin. "I did not expect that," he breathes. He cups your face, his thumb stroking your lower lip, now hot. Drawing your mouth against his, Prince Irus kisses you again, softer this time, as if he is taking his time with you. His gentleness sends a shiver down your spine and you grow warm under his touch. His hand runs down your side, gripping your hip in his hold, securing you in place against him. When he pulls away again, you find that you are breathless and dizzy with yearning. Desire, hungry and gnawing, coils in your stomach and you ache for Prince Irus' mouth again. The kiss was not enough, you realise but before you can do more, Prince Irus speaks. "$name, I-" But his voice is cut off. A sharp crash, followed by screams pierce the air. Prince Irus blinks, whatever tenderness that you both shared, disappearing into confusion and surprise. He pulls away from you, the loss of his warmth enough for you to reach out for his hands. Someone comes through the doors of the banquet hall. It takes you a moment to realise that it is Nerena. Her eyes are wide and then, she sees you and Prince Irus. "You need to get inside now," she hisses. "Your uncle is here." <<elseif $chp3_irus_kiss is 4>> "I... it is too much for me, Irus," you breathe, not wanting to kiss him right now. The feeling of his proximity is overwhelming, your mind racing with thoughts of the idea of kissing him. You shake away the images, wanting to clear your mind but it is hard to do that when Prince Irus gazes at you so fondly. You think that you might combust if he had to kiss you now, like this on the balcony when your heart is thudding loudly in your ears. "It is alright," Prince Irus murmurs. He strokes your face, his thumb grazing your skin. "We do not have to do more than this." For a brief moment, you consider his request, the thought causing your stomach to twist. If he kissed you here, on the balcony, in this place where no one will ever see you – what would it all of mean? He must see your thoughts in your eyes, because Prince Irus leans closer still. "I am happy to simply be with you, like this," he breathes. "I did not think that... that this would be possible for me." "What?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. Prince Irus smiles, his palm grasping your chin in his. "This feeling. I do not know how to explain it. $name I-" But his voice is cut off. A sharp crash, followed by screams pierce the air. Prince Irus blinks, whatever tenderness that you both shared, disappearing into confusion and surprise. He pulls away from you, the loss of his warmth enough for you to reach out for his hands. Someone comes through the doors of the banquet hall. It takes you a moment to realise that it is Nerena. Her eyes are wide and then, she sees you and Prince Irus. "You need to get inside now," she hisses. "Your uncle is here." <<elseif $chp3_42a_5 is 1>> "I am grateful for your friendship as well," you answer with a smile. Prince Irus returns your expression, a warmth in his gaze that causes you to gaze at him with gentle affection. Throughout your life, you have never truly had a friend before, especially not one in Salt Bay. It had been a lonely life, your father the only other person who you could talk to, and even then, it had not been much. The idea that you are no longer alone is overwhelming. You chest bloosoms with warmth, a surge of joy spreading through you. You did not expect to find a friendship in Prince Irus, an exiled prince and yet, you have. It is a strange feeling, one that you are unused to and yet one that you welcome. "$name, I-" But his voice is cut off. A sharp crash, followed by screams pierce the air. Prince Irus blinks, whatever moment that you both shared, disappearing into confusion and surprise. Someone comes through the doors of the banquet hall. It takes you a moment to realise that it is Nerena. Her eyes are wide and then, she sees you and Prince Irus. "You need to get inside now," she hisses. "Your uncle is here." <<elseif $chp3_42a_5 is 2>> You hug Prince Irus, wanting him to know that you are grateful for his friendship. Prince Irus lets out a breath, startled by your arms around his waist but after a second, you feel his own grip against you. He tightens his hold and you bask in the feeling of companionship. Throughout your life in Salt Bay, you have not had friends. It was a lonely existence, one that left you yearning for more than just your father's companionship. You pull away from Prince Irus, grinning at him. "I consider you my friend, as well." The idea that you are no longer alone is overwhelming. You chest bloosoms with warmth, a surge of joy spreading through you. You did not expect to find a friendship in Prince Irus, an exiled prince and yet, you have. It is a strange feeling, one that you are unused to and yet one that you welcome. "$name, I-" But his voice is cut off. A sharp crash, followed by screams pierce the air. Prince Irus blinks, whatever moment that you both shared, disappearing into confusion and surprise. Someone comes through the doors of the banquet hall. It takes you a moment to realise that it is Nerena. Her eyes are wide and then, she sees you and Prince Irus. "You need to get inside now," she hisses. "Your uncle is here." <<elseif $chp3_42a_5 is 3>> "I am... glad you consider me your friend," you whisper, though you desperately want more than that from him. There is a hollow ache in the middle of your chest, tightening as you look up at Prince Irus. Your words feel false, but you are uncertain how to voice your true feelings. How can you, when you are uncertain of them yourself? Prince Irus smiles at you and the expression only serves to drive the wedge you feel, deeper into your chest. "I am glad then," he replies. "Your friendship means a lot to me." //Friendship.// It is something that you have been seeking for years and yet, now that Prince Irus has declared his consideration of as a friend, you find that it is not what you want. You want more than friendship and the thought, unbidden as it is, leaves you reeling and gasping for breath. Prince Irus seems to notice your expression. He frowns, reaching out to you. "$name, I-" But his voice is cut off. A sharp crash, followed by screams pierce the air. Prince Irus blinks, whatever moment that you both shared, disappearing into confusion and surprise. Someone comes through the doors of the banquet hall. It takes you a moment to realise that it is Nerena. Her eyes are wide and then, she sees you and Prince Irus. "You need to get inside now," she hisses. "Your uncle is here." <<elseif $chp3_42a_5 is 4>> "What if I want more than just friendship?" you ask. Your question is phrased innocently enough, but its impact is far greater than you expected. Prince Irus turns to stare at you, his eyes widening at your words. For a moment, neither of you speak, the sounds of the banquet barely audible over the sound of your heartbeat thundering beneath your chest. Prince Irus frowns, staring at you and then, he looks away. His eyes seem to be searching the foliage below for answers to your question and for a second, you feel dread creep up your arms. You should not have been so careless with your words, not when there is a chance that he will not feel the same. "I... I did not know that you felt this way about me," he responds. You swallow. "I do." Prince Irus finds your eyes over the darkness. "Forgive me, $name. Perhaps... perhaps we can explore these feelings better?" Hope blossoms in your chest at Prince Irus' words. Prince Irus catches your gaze, smiling warmly at you. "$name, I-" But his voice is cut off. A sharp crash, followed by screams pierce the air. Prince Irus blinks, whatever moment that you both shared, disappearing into confusion and surprise. Someone comes through the doors of the banquet hall. It takes you a moment to realise that it is Nerena. Her eyes are wide and then, she sees you and Prince Irus. "You need to get inside now," she hisses. "Your uncle is here."<</if>> [[Next.|chp3_43]]

<<if $tender_count lt 3>>You turn away, letting your attention return to the rest of the banquet hall. Moving towards the banquet table, you are able to survey the room more clearly. There is still time to speak to someone else if you wanted to. <<if $chp3_tender_irus is false>> [[You approach Prince Irus, surrounded by coutiers.|chp3_42a][$chp3_tender_irus to true, $tender_count +=1]] <<elseif $chp3_tender_elora is false>> [[You approach Queen Elora, surrounded by her guards.|chp3_42b][$chp3_tender_elora to true, $tender_count +=1]] <<elseif $chp3_tender_oren is false>> [[You approach Sir Oren, standing alone in the corner of the room.|chp3_42c][$chp3_tender_oren to true, $tender_count +=1]]<</if>> <<elseif $tender_count is 3>> You stand in the banquet hall, alone for now as you survey the room. A sudden crash draws your attention to the sound and a series of shouts erupt around you. For a moment, you wonder if the guests have started to brawl but that idea is soon proven to be wrong. [[Next.|chp3_43]]<</if>>

As you step away from the banquet table, you make your way across the banquet hall to where Sir Oren is positioned. His earlier drunkeness seems to have worn off and now he stands, sombre and his lips pursed. He does not notice you until you are standing before him and even then, your appearance seems to take him by surprise. "$name," he exclaims. "I must apologise, my mind was elsewhere. Was there something you needed?" You think about his question and the implications of his words. You have not known Sir Oren long, but from what you have gathered, he is respected by the other guards and even Queen Elora. <<set $chp3_42c to 0>> [["I wanted to spend more time with you," you reply. "If that is alright with you?"|chp3_42c_1][$chp3_42c +=1, $orenRel +=2]] [[♡"I saw you alone and I... thought I would come to speak to you," you mumble. "I hope that I am not bothering you."|chp3_42c_1][$chp3_42c +=2, $orenRel +=2, $orenRom +=2, $shy_oren +=5]] [[♡"Needed?" you repeat. "I only need to spend more time in your company."|chp3_42c_1][$chp3_42c +=3, $orenRel +=2, $orenRom +=2, $bold_oren +=5]] [["No," you answer with a shrug. "Though, I thought we could speak to pass the time."|chp3_42c_1][$chp3_42c +=4, $orenRel +=2]] [["I need nothing from you," you scoff in irritation.|chp3_42c_1][$chp3_42c +=5, $orenRel -=2]]

Moving away from the banquet table, you find yourself approaching Queen Elora. She sits on her own, for the first time, not surrounded by courtiers or nobles who seem to clamour for her attention. Instead, she sits on a raised seat, overlooking the rest of the banquet hall. Her guards, stand nearby, turning away those who approach her and for a moment, you hesitate in your steps, wondering if you will be permitted an audience with the Queen. As if sensing your approach, Queen Elora's dark eyes find yours. Her lips pull into a smile. "$name," she calls. "Have you come to join me?" One of Queen Elora's guards leans down to whisper something to her, but she waves the guard away. "My mother thinks that I should remain here for the night, lest someone tries anything untoward," Queen Elora sighs. "Please, will you not come and join me? I am simply dying of boredom." You nod your head as you move to take a seat beside Queen Elora. [[Next.|chp3_42b_1]]

You move to take a seat beside Queen Elora, much to the chagrin of the guards around her. She smiles as you sit, the wooden chair cushioned and surprisingly comfortable against your back. From this position, you realise that you have a better view of the rest of the banquet hall. Guests dance to one side of the room, while others mingle amongst the crowds. "Is this your first banquet?" Queen Elora asks. You glance at her and nod. "It is." Queen Elora follows your gaze, her eyes lingering on the guests around you. A slight frown pulls at her lips and when she returns her attention onto you, there is something sad in her expression. "I haven't had much time to myself tonight," she explains. "And now, when I do, I am alone." <<set $chp3_42b_1 to 0>> [["I am happy to keep you company," you answer with a light smile.|chp3_42b_2][$chp3_42b_1 +=1, $eloraRel +=2]] [[♡"Oh," you mumble, your face warm under her attention. "I hope that it is alright if I am here with you."|chp3_42b_2][$chp3_42b_1 +=2, $eloraRel +=2, $eloraRom +=2, $shy_elora +=5]] [[♡"Allow me to ease your boredom with my presence," you purr.|chp3_42b_2][$chp3_42b_1 +=3, $eloraRom +=2, $eloraRel +=2, $bold_elora +=5]] [["It must be boring to sit up here, alone," you agree.|chp3_42b_2][$chp3_42b_1 +=4, $eloraRel +=2]] [["I see," you mutter. "I am simply here to act as your entertainment."|chp3_42b_2][$chp3_42b_1 +=5, $eloraRel -=2]]

<<if $chp3_42b_1 is 1>> "I am happy to keep you company," you answer with a light smile. Queen Elora flashes you a smile, one that causes her eyes to light up. Reaching out, she takes one of your hands in her own and pats your wrist gently, before she withdraws her touch. "Thank you, $name," she answers. "You are very kind." "It is you, who I would wager is the kind one," you answer. "You did not have to ask me to join you here." Queen Elora laughs, the sound airy and light. When she gazes at you once more, the sadness that had been there only moments before, is now gone. Another smile pulls at the corners of her lips, causing you to return the expression. "It was more selfishness, $name," she replies. "I cannot stand to sit here alone." <<elseif $chp3_42b_1 is 2>> "Oh," you mumble, your face warm under her attention. "I hope that it is alright if I am here with you." Queen Elora pauses, her dark eyes searching your face as she takes in your hesitant tone. A kindness that you did not know you were deserving of, flickers through her dark eyes. Smiling, Queen Elora leans closer to you as you take your seat beside her. Her voice is lowe when she speaks, a hushed whisper reserved only for you. "I would not have asked you to join me if it was not alright," she breathes. "I enjoy spending time with you $name. Truly, you are a wonder." You still at her words, unable to look away from her face. There is sincerity in her eyes, a softness in the way that she studies you that leaves you breathless and hot and wanting to flee all at once. You swallow, finally tearing your gaze away from Queen Elora's visage, this beautiful woman who seems intent on making you flustered. "I... thank you," you mumble. A soft laugh escapes her lips, the sound startling you. "You are sweet, $name, so different to those who would fight for my attention. It is adorable." <<elseif $chp3_42b_1 is 3>> "Allow me to ease your boredom with my presence," you purr. Queen Elora's dark eyebrows rise at your tone, before her lips pull into a matching smirk. She leans close to you, as you settle against your seat. her fragrant perfume, the oils that must have been placed in her hair and skin, finds you and draws you towards her. She is beautiful, you think. A sight that you would happily drink in for as long as you can breathe. "That was the idea," Queen Elora murmurs. She tilts her head. "Tell me, $name, how do you plan on easing my boredom?" You grin at her, taking a moment to truly take in her appearance. Her dark hair falls loosely against her back and you reach out to move a stray strand from her face. Queen Elora stiffens as your figners brush against her skin, feather-light, and when you draw away, she frowns. "If you mean to tease me," Queen Elora murmurs, "know that I am not a woman who will break easily under your attention." "Oh? Is that a promise?" you ask. She visibly shudders, her voice low and breathless. "If you want it to be." <<elseif $chp3_42b_1 is 4>> "It must be boring to sit up here, alone," you agree. Queen Elora chuckles, the sound filling with bitter amusement. You frown, turning to watch her but the Queen's gaze rests on the banquet hall and guests who dance with wild abandon. There is something sad in Queen Elora's expression, a yearning for something that she can never truly have. "It is, $name," she murmurs. "I... I have not had much time to truly enjoy myself since becoming a ruler." "But you are the Queen," you say. "Surely, you can do whatever you want." Queen Elora laughs, this time, meeting your eyes. There is mirth in her gaze and her lips pull into a wide smile. Despite this, her expression is not unkind. "You would think that," she sighs. "But it seems that when you take the throne, everything you think you can do is merely a farce. I have not had time to do much of anything, let alone enjoy myself at a banquet that I have helped to organise." "I am sorry," you breathe. "It must be quite a burden to bear." "Thank you for understanding," Queen Elora responds. "Not many would." <<elseif $chp3_42b_1 is 5>> "I see," you mutter. "I am simply here to act as your entertainment." A sharp look of irritation flashes through Queen Elora's face, but it is gone as quickly as it had come. She lets out a breath, avoiding your hard gaze as she stares at the banquet hall below. For a moment, neither of you speak, the tension growing until you find it unbearable. "I suppose you must think me some petty ruler," she murmurs. "Doing everything on a whim." You raise an eyebrow, not feeling any sympathy for the Queen. Perhaps her life is hard, but she cannot deign to complain about the burdens of being a ruler when the burdens you have endured are far worse than she could ever know. "It is not easy," Queen Elora says. "I cannot simply do as I please. Every action I take is weighed against me." "Then why not give up the throne?" you demand. Queen Elora stiffens, her lips tugging into a scowl. "I cannot do that." "Then do not complain about your responsibilities," you spit. <</if>> [[Next.|chp3_42b_3]]

You find yourself sitting together in silence for some time. Queen Elora's guards stand nearby, some throwing you pointed looks but averting their gazes whenever you turn to meet their stares. Perhaps they worry for their Queen's safety, though you wonder what threat they must see in someone like you. "Oh no," Queen Elora mutters. You frown. "What is it?" But Queen Elora is already standing up from her seat, gathering her skirts in her hands. She glances at you and you see panic in her eyes. "My mother is headed this way," she breathes. "No doubt to speak to me about some failure or the other about the feast." True enough, you catch a glimpse of Sovereign Amera approaching where you and Queen Elora are situated. The woman wears a severe expression and you find her lips pulling into a frown when she notices you beside Queen Elora. "Are you coming, $name?" Queen Elora calls. "We must make haste before my mother gets here." [[You nod, hurrying after Queen Elora.|chp3_42b_4]] [[You make your excuses as you leave, not wanting to get caught up between Sovereign Amera and Queen Elora.|chp3_42_landing]]

As you stand, hurrying after Queen Elora, you notice as her guards move to cover the both of you as you escape from the banquet hall. Queen Elora does not look back, except to make sure that you are still following her as she leads you through a concealed door, hidden behind one of the heavy drapes. The hallway she leads you through is narrow and dark and you find dust tickling at your nose. You do not know how long you have walked for, but eventually, Queen Elora pulls open a metal grate and you find yourself stepping out into the night's air. Behind you, the door closes, leaving you and the Queen alone. "This is the gazebo," she explains. "No one uses it anymore, not since my grandmother that is." Your eyes roam over your surroundings. At first glance it seems rather unremarkable. You see an ornate marble archway with a carved statue standing before it, and some small shrubs on either side with blooming vines climbing up their trunks. Elora sits down upon the bench near the archway, patting the spot next to her. "Come sit here." [[Next.|chp3_42b_5]]

As soon as you take a seat beside her, Queen Elora lets out a laugh. The sound is so sudden that it startles you for a moment. You turn, looking at her. For the first time since you joined her, there is genuine amusement in her eyes, the weariness that had plagued her earlier, now absent as she smiles at you. "Thank you, $name," she says. "I do not think I would have managed to escape without you." You shrug. "It was nothing, truly." Queen Elora shakes her head, bumping her shoulder against your side. "Truly, I mean it. I have not had this much fun in a long time. Thank you, $name." You smile at her, taking a moment to survey the expanse of trees and shrubs around you. While it is unkempt, this part of the garden seems to have been left wild, as if it is part of the young Queen, herself. Queen Elora seems to notice your thoughtfulness, because she turns to look at you with a grin. "What are you thinking about?" she asks. <<set $chp3_42b_5 to 0>><<set $chp3_elorakiss to false>> [["I was only thinking what a good friend I've come to consider you," you reply, grinning at her.|chp3_42b_6][$chp3_42b_5 +=1, $eloraRel +=5]] [[♡You stare at her features, her beauty and find yourself unable to speak.|chp3_42b_6][$chp3_42b_5 +=2, $eloraRom +=5, $eloraRel +=5]] [[♡You gaze at her mouth, wanting to kiss her but suddenly uncertain for you have never kissed another before.|chp3_42b_6][$chp3_42b_5 +=5, $eloraRel +=5, $eloraRom +=5, $chp3_elorakiss to true]] [[♡"I was thinking about how much I would like to kiss you right now," you breathe.|chp3_42b_6][$chp3_42b_5 +=3, $eloraRel +=5, $eloraRom +=5, $chp3_elorakiss to true]] [["It is nothing important," you say. "I am only enjoying the peace with you."|chp3_42b_6][$chp3_42b_5 +=4, $eloraRel +=5]]

<<if $chp3_42b_5 is 1>> "I was only thinking what a good friend I've come to consider you," you reply, grinning at her. Queen Elora mirrors your smile, letting out a small laugh as she leans back against the bench. She reaches out, tucking a stray strand of her curls behind her ear, casting you a sideways glance. There is a hint of affection in her gaze as she ponders your words, something warm and so unlike anything you have seen before directed at you. "I am grateful for your friendship, $name," she replies. "I did not think that I would be granted more friends that are as genuine as you." You smile. "You are one of my first friends." Queen Elora frowns, peering at you closely. "What do you mean?" "When I was growing up, many would avoid me altogether," you explain. "It was not the easiest to make friends when so many thought me a blight." Reaching out, Queen Elora grips your wrist. "I am sorry that you had to endure such cruelty. Know that no matter what happens, I will be here for you." <<elseif $chp3_42b_5 is 2>> You stare at her features, her beauty and find yourself unable to speak. Your voice will not work and you find your lips parting, only for a breath to escape you. You cannot speak, you cannot think. All you can do is stare at Queen Elora, taking in the way that her dark eyes trace over your features to the way her warmth scorches your side. "$name?" Queen Elora calls. "Are you alright?" "No," you blurt. Then, your cheeks grow warm. "I mean, yes. I am fine." Queen Elora's dark eyebrows furrow and you notice a glint of amusement in her dark eyes. She leans closer to you, her fingers reaching out to grip your chin in her hold. Her skin is like silk, you think as she strokes the sides of your face and her eyes are like the night sky. You want nothing more than to bask in her heat, feeling her caress against your skin. "I have been meaning to tell you something since I saw you tonight," she murmurs. You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry. Queen Elora smiles up at you, a look of appreciation in her eyes. "You look magnificent, $name. A part of me would like nothing more than to ravish you right here and yet, I will not." "You will not?" you ask, your voice strained and high. Queen Elora laughs. "No. I think I will take my time in getting to know you first." She brushes her thumb over your lips, before bringing it to her own. It is not a kiss and yet, the gesture is so intimate that it causes your heartbeat to race. <<elseif $chp3_42b_5 is 3>> "I was thinking about how much I would like to kiss you right now," you breathe. The air between you seems to grow silent and you hold your breath, expecting Queen Elora to laugh at your words. But instead, you find her eyes trained on you, her gaze unwavering and intense. Neither of you speak, nor do you move towards each other. You wait, not wanting to take any liberties with the young Queen. Eventually, when you think you can stand the silence no longer, Queen Elora speaks. Her voice is soft, barely above a whisper. "I would like that, $name," she murmurs. And then, before you can even consider her response, Queen Elora leans closer, her mouth brushing against yours in a barely there kiss. Her lips are incredibly soft against yours and you find your fingers reaching towards her, tangling in the expanse of her thick hair. Queen Elora lets out a soft sound against your touch, the sound causing your skin to prickle with urgency. The kiss is a languid thing, as you both take your time to explore each other's mouths. Queen Elora is warm and soft and you taste honey on her tongue when her lips part. You lean forward, deepening the kiss, trying to take all of Queen Elora into yourself so that the feeling of kissing her won't ever leave your lips. Her fingers graze your skin, pulling you closer until there is no space left between your bodies. She pulls away after a moment, her eyes closed and her breathing coming out in sharp pants. "You are quite the kisser," she gasps. "Remind me why we have not tried that before?" <<elseif $chp3_42b_5 is 4>> "It is nothing important," you say. "I am only enjoying the peace with you." Queen Elora raises an eyebrow at your words, but she does not say more as she leans back against the stone bench. Her dark eyes scan over the foliage around you, the flowers emitting a sweet fragrance that seems to shift towards you with the night's breeze. "It is soothing," she says, after a moment. "It is strange. I have not enjoyed thr quiet like this for a long time, least of all with another." You turn, your eyes on Queen Elora's face. She meets your eyes, smiling at you warmly. A surge of warmth spreads through you and you realise that she is one of the first few people who has not treated you with disdain. It is a strange feeling, knowing that you are not unwanted or judged for the heritage you bear. "Thank you for joining me," Queen Elora breathes. "It is a perfect way to end the night." <<elseif $chp3_42b_5 is 5>> You do not answer Queen Elora because how can you tell her what you want? Your breath catches in the back of your throat, the feeling constricting until you cannot breathe. Looking away from Queen Elora, your cheeks heat up at the thought of kissing her. You have never kissed anyone before and you are suddenly nervous. "$name," Queen Elora calls. Her hand brushes against yours and you shiver at the touch. She seems to notice and smiles. "Is something wrong?" Your voice is small when you mumble, "No." She shifts closer, her proximity causing your skin to tingle at her warmth. Another shudder runs down your spine and this time, Queen Elora's smile widens as her dark eyes trace over your face. She looks at you with a sincerity that causes your heartbeat to speed up. Her fingers reach out, grasping your chin in her hold. "I would be tremendously pleased if I could kiss you," she murmurs. You still, your breaths coming out sharp and unsteady. It is hard to meet Queen Elora's eyes and when you speak, it is barely above a whisper. "I have... this... I have not kissed anyone before." Queen Elora stares at you, her eyes taking in your expression. Her smiles softens, her gaze lingering on your mouth. The sight sends a shiver through you and you are suddenly alight with heat and want. "Will you allow me to show you how?" she asks. You manage a nod, unable to trust your voice. Queen Elora leans towards you, her fingers guiding your face towards her own. Her breath is warm against your face, the feel of it brushing against your skin causes your eyes to close. And then, she is kissing you. Her mouth is soft, the press of it causing your heart to pound louder. The sensation is strange, but not unpleasant and as you move your lips with hers, you begin to relax into the kiss. It is slow and delicate, as if Queen Elora is holding herself back just for you. When she pulls away, you open your eyes, looking up at her. Heat fills your face but you dare not pull away, suddenly desperate for her touch. "Thank you for allowing me the honour to kiss you," she breathes. <</if>> The moment is interrupted by the creaking hinges of the metal grate being pushed open. Queen Elora frowns, standing from the bench as she turns to face whoever thought it would be prudent to barge into the gazebo. "Nerena?" Queen Elora calls. "What is wrong?" Nerena turns, her eyes flickering towards you, before they return to Queen Elora. Her eyes are wide and there is a tension in her shoulders when she speaks. "It is the Prince's uncle. Virion. He is here," Nerena breathes. [[Next.|chp3_43]]

<<if $chp3_42c is 1>> "I wanted to spend more time with you," you reply. "If that is alright with you?" A second passes before Sir Oren flashes you a wide smile. You do not miss the way that his hazel eyes light up with warmth as he gazes at you and for a moment, you are taken aback by the sincerity of his expression. Mirroring his smile, you move to stand beside Sir Oren. "Of course it is alright with me, $name," he replies. "I must admit, I have been a little curious about you." You raise an eyebrow, glancing at the Captain. He is still smiling and you find no hidden intentions in the way that he regards you. "What has you so curious?" you ask. Sir Oren shrugs, turning his eyes to rest of the banquet hall. For a moment, he does not speak, insteadm taking in the guests around you. You take this moment to observe him fully. Despite the fine attire he wears, you note the way that he stands tall, alert for dangers. You wonder if he ever takes a break from his duties. "This banquet, everyone has only really asked about His Highness," Sir Oren explains, turning back to look at you. "But I find myself wondering about who you are." "There is nothing much about me," you explain. "I grew up in Salt Bay with my father, a fisherman and lived a secluded life." "Secluded?" he asks. "I find that hard to believe." You smile, though it feels forced. "I did not have many friends, on account of my Ishari heritage." Sir Oren frowns, his face falling at your words. In a second, the look in his eyes becomes determined. "I assure you that you will always have a friend in Vinia, $name, regardless of your heritage." A laugh escapes you. "Are you offering to be my friend, Sir Oren?" "If you'd have me as one," he replies. There is a warmth in his tone, one that spreads through you. You nod, smiling in response at Sir Oren. "I would like that." <<elseif $chp3_42c is 2>> "I saw you alone and I... thought I would come to speak to you," you mumble. "I hope that I am not bothering you." Sir Oren's hazel eyes widen at your words and for a moment, you fear that you have only interrupted him. As you begin to think up a reason to flee, Sir Oren's lips pull into a smile. You are taken aback by the expression, the way that his eyes soften as they gaze down at you. It is hard to look away, not when Sir Oren stares at you so intensely. "You could never bother me," Sir Oren responds. "I would gladly welcome your company, $name if you are offering it." His words are friendly enough and yet, it sends your heartbeat into a gallop. You manage a nod, feeling as if you are standing on a high ledge, about to fall over. Moving to stand beside Sir Oren, you become all too aware of how close you are and still, it is not close enough, you think. You can feel his heat through his fine attire and swallow, your mouth dry. "How have you been enjoying the banquet?" Sir Oren asks, after a while. His voice is low, a soft sound that you did not think could come from a man of his stature. You stare at Sir Oren, taking in the way his hazel eyes search your face, feeling warmth spread across your cheeks at his handsomeness. "$name?" Sir Oren calls. You blink, realising that you have still not responded. "It's been fine. T-Thank you for asking." Sir Oren smiles at your reply. "It is good to know. My first banquet had been overwhelming." "It had?" you ask. Sir Oren nods. "I grew up on a farm and for most of my life, I had not seen myself doing anything more than that." You are enraptured by his voice, but more so, by the way he talks about himself. There is nothing arrogant in the way he describes his life, no any hint of smugness of his status as a Captain. "What changed?" you question. "My fathers were struggling, we had a large family at home, other than me and my siblings," Sir Oren explains. "I heard that Her Majesty was looking to expand the Royal Guard and I decided to join, to help my family." You are almost envious of the devotion Sir Oren has to his family and mentally chastise yourself for thinking that way. It is honourable that he cares so deeply for them and yet, you wonder if he could ever feel that way about you. "It is... admirable," you say. "Truly." Sir Oren glances at you, his gaze unwavering. For a second, neither of you speak, but you do not wish to break this moment. There is something in his hazel eyes, something that makes your stomach twist into knots and your breathing to hitch. You cannot look away from Sir Oren's gaze. "You are kind," Sir Oren breathes, his voice deeper, lower. "I do not take those words lightly, not from you, $name. Thank you." <<elseif $chp3_42c is 3>> "Needed?" you repeat. "I only need to spend more time in your company." The implications of your words do not go unnoticed by Sir Oren and you are rewarded by the slight reddening of Sir Oren's cheeks. It spreads throughout his face, until it reaches the tips of his ears. You laugh at the sight, feeling heat surge through you at the sight of the Captain blushing. "I see," Sir Oren mumbles. He opens his mouth then closes it, as if struggling to find a response. "Can I join you, Sir Oren?" you ask, taking mercy on his flustered appearance. Sir Oren nods, clearing his throat. You smile widely at him, before moving to stand beside him. Perhaps you are taking liberties by allowing for your shoulder to brush against his arm and perhaps you enjoy it a little too much when you feel Sir Oren jump at the sudden contact, but you cannot help yourself. "So, Captain," you say. "What has you brooding in this corner?" A strangled sound escapes Sir Oren and he turns red once more. "I am not //brooding//. I am merely enjoying a quiet moment to myself." "Oh? Am I disturbing you then? Forgive me," you say. "I will depart so that-" "No!" Sir Oren blurts. You raise an eyebrow at him, amused. "No?" Sir Oren averts his eyes, not able to look at you as he speaks. "I mean to say that your company is not a bother, $name." A smirk pulls at the corners of your lips as you bump your shoulder against Sir Oren's arm. This time, he does not jump away at the contact and it causes heat to spread through you. You turn, looking at Sir Oren's face. He is staring at the banquet hall, pointedly not meeting your eyes. You remember how frazzled he had been with Lord Redall, worrying over his siblings. "Are you worried about your siblings?" you ask. Sir Oren blinks, as if surprised that you remembered. He turns to look at you, smiling lightly. "They have fortunately returned home. I do not think that I will be able to stop worrying about them, though." He speaks of them softly, with affection that only an older brother could have. You find yourself drawn to his voice, the way that his tone dips lower, as if he is speaking only to you. There is a warmth in his expression now, one that you suddenly long to be directed at you. "You are a good brother," you say. "Your siblings are lucky to have you." Sir Oren ducks his head, as if embarrassed. "It is me who is the lucky one." You reach out, your fingers grazing his chin. Sir Oren freezes, but he does not pull away. Lifting his chin, you stare into his eyes. There are flecks of green in the brown, a colour that is mesmerising. "You do yourself a disservice," you murmur. "I think you are incredible, Sir Oren." A breath escapes Sir Oren's lips and his eyes are locked onto yours. He does not pull away, though, he does not lean closer either. Perhaps he is afraid, you think. Or perhaps, he is not interested? "Thank you, $name," Sir Oren responds. "I... I will cherish your words." <<elseif $chp3_42c is 4>> "No," you answer with a shrug. "Though, I thought we could speak to pass the time." Sir Oren casts you a surprised look, but after a moment, he smiles at you. Gesturing for you to join him, you move so that you are standing beside him. From this angle, you realise that you can see the rest of the banquet hall. You glance at Sir Oren, noting that is probably the reason for his choosing to stand here. "I would not mind a conversation with you, $name," Sir Oren answers. "It is good to look busy at these events." You raise an eyebrow. "It is?" Sir Oren nods at you, a smile on his lips. He inclines his chin to the rest of the banquet hall, and you follow his gaze. Courtiers mill around, laughing and chatting away. To one side of the room, you note the way the guests dance to the beat of the music. It is unlike anything you have experienced before. "Most of the guests did not attend to celebrate the spring harvests or to honour Her Majesty," Sir Oren explains. "They came to get a look at Prince Irus, to make judgments based on what they see and then they will spend the rest of the night carrying gossip with others." "You do not approve?" you ask. Sir Oren shrugs. "It is not my place to say so freely, but I do dislike the dishonesty and pretenses." "Then why attend?" you ask. "I am sure that as a Captain, you could have been elsewhere tonight." "It is true," Sir Oren agrees. "Her Majesty wishes to entertain her guests, but her safety is my priority. I could not forgive myself if something happened when I could have stopped it." His words are spoken casually, but there is something determined in his tone. It is as if the idea of protecting others goes beyond his duties as a Captain of the Royal Vinian Guard. "You cannot protect everyone, Sir Oren," you breathe. There is a haunting sound in your voice, one that comes from experiencing the deaths of many you could not save. Sir Oren must sense it, because he offers you a sad smile. "I am sorry for the losses you must have suffered, $name," Sir Oren breathes. "But even so, I cannot give up on trying to help those around me." <<elseif $chp3_42c is 5>> "I need nothing from you," you scoff in irritation. Sir Oren frowns at your curt tone, before he looks away. You stare at him, this Captain who seems so intent on helping everyone around him but you wonder how much of it is genuine and how much of it is simply to impress those above him. "I did not mean to offend you, $name," Sir Oren replies. "The offer was genuine." "It does not matter what you meant," you huff. "I do not need assistance, especially not from you." Sir Oren shoots you a hard look, but you do not back down under his glare. "You should not be so quick to reject aid. It is the only way to move forward in life." "I am capable on my own," you retort. Sir Oren sighs, "Very well." <</if>> [[Next.|chp3_42c_2]]

"Captain!" The voice is hurried and comes from a wide-eyed guard. He is an older looking guard, though he regards Sir Oren with respect. Sir Oren turns towards the guard, who glances in your direction, but determines whatever he has to say cannot wait for privacy. "What is it Dothar?" Sir Oren asks. "The scouts have brought back claims of sightings beyond the city gates," Dothar explains. "I would not come to you unless it was important." Sir Oren nods. "Thank for informing me." He turns to you. "You must excuse me, $name, but I must attend to my duties." He turns, following Dothar through the banquet hall. As you watch Sir Oren leave, you think about Dothar's ominous words. [[Follow Sir Oren and Dothar.|chp3_42c_3]] [[You let Sir Oren leave with Dothar.|chp3_42_landing]]

Without wasting another moment, you hurry after Sir Oren. His long strides are difficult to keep up with, but his formidable height makes it easy to spot him over the crowd. As soon as you emerge from the banquet hall, you catch a glimpse of Sir Oren and Dothar turning down the hallway and hurry your steps to catch up to them. As you round the corner they took, you find yourself following them to the floors below the palace until you reach what must be a separate section where the guards train and reside when they are on duty. The air is cooler here and the hallways are kept alight with sconces that flicker with firelight. "Where do you think that you're going?" A guard, a few years older than you, stops you from pursuing Sir Oren any further. She furrows her eyebrows at you. You open your mouth to explain but you do not get a chance to speak. "$name?" Sir Oren calls, noticing you. "What are you doing here?" You offer him a placating smile. "I followed you here." Sir Oren sighs, before waving the guard away from you. "You are not permitted to be here, $name. Come, I will escort you back to the banquet hall." [[Next.|chp3_42c_4]]

Sir Oren steps away from Dothar, after murmuring a few words to him and strides to where you stand. He offers you a rueful smile, as he grips the crook of your elbow to guide you back towards the banquet hall. "I am sorry," he apologises. "But guests, not even Her Majesty's guests, are allowed in the barracks without having proper authority." You frown. "I was only curious about what the scouts spotted." Sir Oren shakes his head. "That is for me to worry about, $name. I know that you and His Highness travelled together for some time, having to defend yourselves, but I can assure you that the guards will keep you and the others safe." You fall silent, as Sir Oren leads you through the winding hallways, taking you back closer to the banquet hall. His words are meant to be comforting and in a way, it is. But you also know that the threat of the Blood Guard coming after Prince Irus and by association, //you//, still remains at the forefront of your concerns. [[Next.|chp3_42c_5]]

Walking alongside Sir Oren, you remain quiet. The banquet hall is still a distance away, but you can hear the faint sounds of the guests from where you and Sir Oren walk. Perhaps it is because of his long strides, but when you take your next step, you find your foot catching on the corner of the thick rug along the floor. You yelp, lurching forward. Your stomach drops and you squeeze your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the impact. But it does not come. Sir Oren reaches out for you, his arms bracing you against his solid chest as he keeps you from falling. You peer up at him, his face so close to yours that you can feel the heat of it against your skin. Sir Oren's eyes are wide as he scans you. "Are you alright?" <<set $chp3_42c_5 to 0>><<set $chp3_orenkiss to false>> [["I am thanks to your heroics," you chuckle.|chp3_42c_6][$chp3_42c_5 +=1, $orenRel +=5]] [[♡"I... yes... thank you," you stammer, flushing under his grip.|chp3_42c_6][$chp3_42c_5 +=2, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5, $shy_oren +=5]] [[♡You manage a nod, unable to look away from his mouth as you are suddenly afflicted with the need to kiss him, but your fear holds you back for you have never kissed another before.|chp3_42c_6][$chp3_42c_5 +=5, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5, $shy_oren +=5, $chp3_orenkiss to true]] [[♡"I am, thank you," you murmur before kissing his cheek.|chp3_42c_6][$chp3_42c_5 +=3, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5, $bold_oren +=5, $chp3_orenkiss to true]] [["Yes," you reply. "I am sorry for troubling you."|chp3_42c_6][$chp3_42c_5 +=4, $orenRel +=5]]

<<if $chp3_42c_5 is 1>> "I am thanks to your heroics," you chuckle. Sir Oren does not loosen his hold, his eyes filled with concern as he examines you. You wave away his attention, moving to stand up straight. Sir Oren keeps hold of your shoulders, frowning slightly at you. "Are you quite certain?" Sir Oren asks. "You are not hurt?" "Stop fussing," you reply, smiling at him. "I am perfectly fine." He sighs, before nodding at you. Dropping his hands from your shoulders, Sir Oren moves to stand beside you and when you begin your walk back to the banquet hall, his strides are slower, as if afraid that you will topple over if left alone. "You do not need to slow down for me," you say. "I am quite alright, Sir Oren." "I am glad that are not hurt, but it was careless of me to hurry without stopping to consider your well-being," he replies. "It is kind of you to care this much," you answer. "But I assure you that I am well, thanks to you." The banquet hall comes into view and Sir Oren's steps slow. This is not the same entrance that you used when you first arrived at the banquet hall, you suspect that the Captain has taken you an entrance reserved for the guards. He turns to look at you, a soft smile on his face. "I must leave you here, $name," he says. "I hope that-" The doors are flung open and Nerena comes rushing out. Her eyes are wide before they finally land on Sir Oren. "Oren, come quick," she calls. "It is the Prince's uncle. He is here." <<elseif $chp3_42c_5 is 2>> "I... yes... thank you," you stammer, flushing under his grip. He steps back a few paces but does not remove his hands. "For what it is worth I would gladly do whatever it takes to keep you safe," he says, meeting your gaze. Your heart leaps in your throat, butterflies fluttering beneath your ribcage at the sight of Sir Oren. His expression is earnest, a thing that sends a warmth through you. Your knees weaken and you are grateful that the Captain has no let go of you, because you are certain that you will crumple under the weight of his gaze. "You would?" you mumble. Sir Oren nods, the sincerity in his gaze causing your head to swim. You swallow, your mouth dry and your face hot. He is is close to you. His hands on your arms, keeping you upright send tingles along your skin and you find yourself wanting to never end this moment. Sir Oren clears his throat and you realise that you have been gawking at him. "Are you able to stand on your own?" he asks. "Yes," you breathe. He does not let go of you, not until you are standing straight once more. Sir Oren drops his hands from your shoulders, smiling at you. You suddenly long for his touch, wanting to wrap yourself in his embrace for as long as you can bear it, but Sir Oren is already turning away. "Come, the banquet hall is just up ahead," he explains. You nod, unable to trust your voice as you follow him. The both of you walk in silence, but you note the closeness in which Sir Oren walks beside you has narrowed somewhat. It sends a thrill down your spine and you find yourself slowing your steps to prolong this moment. The banquet hall comes into view and Sir Oren's steps slow. This is not the same entrance that you used when you first arrived at the banquet hall, you suspect that the Captain has taken you an entrance reserved for the guards. He turns to look at you, a soft smile on his face. "I must leave you here, $name," he says. "I hope that-" The doors are flung open and Nerena comes rushing out. Her eyes are wide before they finally land on Sir Oren. "Oren, come quick," she calls. "It is the Prince's uncle. He is here." <<elseif $chp3_42c_5 is 3>> "I am, thank you," you murmur before kissing his cheek. It is chaste enough to be a passing touch, but Sir Oren stiffens against the shape of your lips and you pull away, to peer up at his face. His cheeks are flushed and you notice him swallowing. For a moment, you think that he will pretend it did not happen, but then, Sir Oren is looking at you. There is heat in his gaze, one that takes you by surprise. "You did not have to thank me," Sir Oren mumbles. Despite his words, you feel his fingers tighten their grip on you, as if afraid that you will disappear. You take this time to examine his face, flushed and handsome and genuine as he regards you softly. He is breathing fast and you place a hand on his chest, where you imagine his heartbeat is. "I wanted to," you respond. "And I would thank you again, if you would allow me to." Sir Oren stills. You feel it in the way that his arms grow stiff and his face goes rigid. You wonder if you have pushed too far, for his blushing only intensifies. But then, Sir Oren speaks. It is soft at first, barely above a whisper, his words washing over you like the heat of a desert. "Yes," he breathes. "I would allow that." You need no further prompting. Cupping his face in your free hand, you lean up to kiss his mouth. Sir Oren lets out a breath, his lips hot and full under yours. It is a peck at first. Soft, gentle, probing for a reaction and then, unable to help yourself, you lean in closer, deepening the kiss with him. A soft sound escapes Sir Oren. Drawing away, just barely enough to feel the outline of his lips on yours, you gaze up at Sir Oren. His eyes are shut tight, but after a moment, they flicker open. The look in his eyes sends your heartbeat soaring and you nearly kiss him again. But by the way his arms tighten around you, you realise that Sir Oren is still supporting most of your weight. You stand up, Sir Oren's grip loosening but not completely letting go. A smile tugs at your lips. "Perhaps we should return to the banquet?" you suggest. "Before your guards come looking for you." Sir Oren manages a nod and as you both walk towards the banquet hall, you notice the quick glances he keeps throwing at you. The banquet hall soon comes into view and Sir Oren's steps slow. This is not the same entrance that you used when you first arrived at the banquet hall, you suspect that the Captain has taken you an entrance reserved for the guards. He turns to look at you, a soft smile on his face. "I must leave you here, $name," he says. "I hope that-" The doors are flung open and Nerena comes rushing out. Her eyes are wide before they finally land on Sir Oren. "Oren, come quick," she calls. "It is the Prince's uncle. He is here." <<elseif $chp3_42c_5 is 4>> "Yes," you reply. "I am sorry for troubling you." His dark eyebrows furrow and Sir Oren offers you a strange look, not quite pity but something more like concern. Steadying you so that you are standing upright, Sir Oren examines you for injuries. You shake your head, unused to such attention, but Sir Oren smiles kindly at you. "You are not troubling me, $name," he explains. "I am only sorry for not slowing down earlier." "It is not your fault," you respond. "I was not watching where I was walking. "Do not concern yourself over this." Sir Oren frowns. "I cannot ignore someone getting hurt, $name. Especially not one whom I consider to be a friend." "I... thank you," you mumble. His smile widens. "You are welcome, $name. Truly, I mean that." Gesturing for you to follow him, Sir Oren begins walking at a much slower pace beside you as he leads you back towards the banquet hall. It soon comes into view and Sir Oren's steps slow. This is not the same entrance that you used when you first arrived at the banquet hall, you suspect that the Captain has taken you an entrance reserved for the guards. He turns to look at you, a soft smile on his face. "I must leave you here, $name," he says. "I hope that-" The doors are flung open and Nerena comes rushing out. Her eyes are wide before they finally land on Sir Oren. "Oren, come quick," she calls. "It is the Prince's uncle. He is here." <<elseif $chp3_42c_5 is 5>> You cannot form a word or breathe, barely managing a nod. Your eyes trace over Sir Oren's face, noting the flecks of green in his brown eyes and the strength of his arms around your form. Sir Oren peers at you closely, his eyebrows knitting together as he takes in your expression. He is so close that you can feel his warm breath against your skin. The feel of it sends shivers down your spine and by the way Sir Oren tightens his grip around you, you realise that he must feel your trembling too. "I am glad then," Sir Oren murmurs. You expect him to oull away, but Sir Oren does not. His eyes trace over your face, shifting over your eyes then lower until you are certain that he is staring at your mouth. Your cheeks grow warm under his attention and you suddenly want him to kiss you. The thought sends a swirl of excitement through you and leaves a prickly nervousness in its wake. How do you kiss someone when you have never kissed another before? "$name..." he breathes. "I would... I... can I kiss you?" he asks. You stiffen in his hold, your eyes widening at his question. Sir Oren draws away slightly, his lips slipping into a frown. "I am sorry," he blurts. "I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. I-" "It is not that," you interrupt, flushing. "It is... I have never kissed anyone before." Sir Oren blinks as if surprised. "You have not? But... you are so magnificent." His words send a thrill down your spine, heat blossoming from your chest and spreading through you. You hear your blood rushing past your ears and swallow, suddenly alert and aware of the way Sir Oren gazes at you. "I do not wish to pressure you, $name," Sir Oren murmurs. "Perhaps you should wait for someone more deserving." You shake your head. "I... I want it to be with you." A faint blush spreads through his cheeks and Sir Oren nods, visibly swallowing. "I... alright." He grips the back of your neck, drawing you closer so that your mouths are aligned. Sir Oren brushes his thumb over your cheek, sending a shudder through you and you let out a breath. He smiles, affection in his eyes and presses his mouth against yours. The kiss is chaste, a gentle peck but it draws out your breath and causes a searing heat to fill you. Sir Oren pulls away all too soon, his eyes taking in your expression. The nervousness that had been there before is now absent from his gaze. He stares at you, his face a hair's breadth from yours. "Thank you, $name. I will treasure this moment for a long time." He draws away, keeping a steady palm on your arm as you stand straighter. You still feel his mouth on yours, the heat and softness of his lips and the faint tingling that spills across your skin in goose pimples. "Let us return to the banquet hall," Sir Oren says, smiling at you. You do not speak, your mind racing as you try to make sense of your kiss with Sir Oren. He was gentle and warm and you find yourself tracing your lips with your fingers, trying to keep the memory of his mouth from escaping. Your thoughts are interrupted as the sight of the banquet hall comes into view and you manage to steal a glance at Sir Oren. "I am afraid that I must leave you here," he explains. "Tonight was-" His words are cut off as the doors to the banquet hall are pushed open. Nerena comes rushing out, her eyes wide and panicked. She notices you, but turns her attention onto Sir Oren. "Oren, come quick," she calls. "It is the Prince's uncle. He is here." <</if>> [[Next.|chp3_43]]

"Virion," Prince Irus breathes. He moves to stand beside you, his eyes frantic. "What are you doing here?" Virion, Prince Irus' uncle and now, King of Cyre, turns his attention on his nephew. There is a silent loathing in his gaze, a look so vile that you find it difficult to believe that this is Prince Irus' uncle. He steps forward, but the Vinian guards move in quickly, to stop whatever attack the King might launch. He stops, gazing across the guests and the guards, before smirking. "How foolish of me," he says. "I appear to have lost my invitation to the festivities." Queen Elora suddenly steps forward, despite the protests of her mother and Sir Oren. "What are you doing here? Vinia is a neutral kingdom. Bringing your loyal hounds to the palace is a declaration of war." Virion scoffs, "It is not a declaration of anything. I am merely here to collect the bastard my brother sired." Prince Irus stiffens beside you. It is clear that his uncle's words have affected him. <<set $chp3_44 to 0>> [[You squeeze his hand in support.|chp3_45][$chp3_44 +=1]] [[You offer him a reassuring smile.|chp3_45][$chp3_44 +=2]] [[You remain at his side, silently supporting Prince Irus.|chp3_45][$chp3_44 +=3]]

<<if $chp3_44 is 1>> Your fingers find Prince Irus' and he instantly squeezes your palm against his before letting go. Already, the tension in his shoulders have eased and he casts you a quick smile.<<elseif $chp3_44 is 2>>Your eyes find Prince Irus' and he looks at you, worried. Smiling, you reach out and pat his shoulder as a gesture of support and he quickly returns your smile with one of his own.<<elseif $chp3_44 is 3>>You move to stand beside Prince Irus, making sure that your support, while not voiced can be seen by those around you. You hear Prince Irus let out a relieved breath and find that he stands taller at your side.<</if>> The gesture does not go unnoticed by Virion. His eyes, sharp and cruel, find you over the crowd. "Ah, you must be the cur that helped him flee," Virion remarks. "A treason easily forgiven if you return my nephew's head to me." "Enough," Queen Elora yells. "You arrive to my palace, uninvited and threaten my guests. I will not stand for this. Leave now." Virion gazes at Queen Elora, grinning. "Very well. I will leave but by sundown tomorrow, I will return and you will hand over the bastard to me." <<if $councillor_support lte 2>> You hear a the muffled whispers of the councillors behind you, not all of which sound eager to rid themselves of Prince Irus and Virion.<<elseif $councillor_support gte 3>>You hear the muffled whispers of the councillors behind you, scoffing at the offer by Virion.<</if>> "And if I do not return Prince Irus to you?" Queen Elora asks. Virion smiles curelly. "Then //that// will be a declaration of war." [[Next.|part_2]]

<<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "part2" loop play>> <div class="heading">Part Two</div><div class="borderstyle">p</div> <div class="timeline">'No matter how long the river, it always ends at the sea.' - Ishari Proverb</div> <center>[[Next.|chapter_4]]</center>

<div class="timeline">Age of Aedes, Year 525, Winter</div> <center>[[Next.|prlg12a_1]]</center>

<<set $year to "Aedes, 525">><div class="timeline">Salt Bay, Cyre</div> Winter this year is particularly harsh. The sun does not disappear in Salt Bay, but the winds become biting and sharp. You are seven this year and there is still no sign of Mama. Instead, the only person you have is Ahlf, a father who seems uninterested in speaking to you. The winter storms have made the sea too rough to sail, so you find yourself cooped inside the cottage with your father. It is damp and the burning logs in the fireplace are not enough to keep you warm. You huddle under a quilt, shivering and cold. It is hard to think over the chattering of your teeth. Suddenly, you miss Ishari and the warmth of your old home. Winter was never this cold with Mama. "$name," Ahlf calls. "Come. Supper is ready." [[Next.|prlg12a_2]]

Supper is a bowl of porridge and floating pieces of vegetables. Ahlf is conserving the rest of the fish, hanging from the rafters. He says that it is to sell at the markets but you think that he is trying to save as much food as he can. His haul has returned emptier each week and though he does not speak to you about it, you can tell that he is worried. You struggle to eat for some time. Your hands tremble and your head hurts from the cold. Ahlf stares at you over the worn table, his eyebrows furrowing at your sight. "Are you still cold?" he asks. His tone is curt, a deep timbre that rattles in your bones. Still, he does not look away, his eyes peering at your face. <<set $prlg12a_2 to 0>> [["Y-Yes," you mumble, nervous under your father's scrutiny.|prlg12a_3][$prlg12a_2 +=1]] [[You nod, not trusting your voice to be heard over your chattering teeth.|prlg12a_3][$prlg12a_2 +=2]] [["I am fine," you answer, forcing a smile onto your lips.|prlg12a_3][$prlg12a_2 +=3]] [[You look down, uncertain how to respond to your father.|prlg12a_3][$prlg12a_2 +=4]] [["Why do you care?" you scoff.|prlg12a_3][$prlg12a_2 +=5]]

<<if $prlg12a_2 is 1>>"Y-Yes," you mumble, nervous under your father's scrutiny. Ahlf stares at you for a while longer, his lips pulling into a frown. You tremble under the weight of his gaze and this time, you are unsure if it is from the cold or from the way that your father looks at you. He lets out a breath before he leans over the table, palm outstretched. Stiffening, you feel the rough callouses of your father's fingers press against your forhead. His lips twist and you fear that you have done something wrong, when he pulls his hand away. "You are warm," he says. He glances at your bowl of the porridge you have barely eaten. "Eat as much as you can then go to bed." <<elseif $prlg12a_2 is 2>>You nod, not trusting your voice to be heard over your chattering teeth. Ahlf scans your face, before his eyes lower to the half-eaten porridge in your bowl. For a moment, you are gripped with terror. Will he scold you for wasting food? You draw the spoon to your lips, forcing down the thick sludge. Ahlf lets out a strained breath. "Do not force yourself to eat." He reaches over the table, pulling the bowl away from you. You frown, uncertain what to make of his gesture. Before you can contemplate Ahlf's mood, he presses his palm against your forehead. His skin is rough to the touch and when he withdraws it from you, there is a strange look in his eyes. "You are warm," he remarks. "Leave the meal. You should rest now, $name."<<elseif $prlg12a_2 is 3>>"I am fine," you answer, forcing a smile onto your lips. To emphasise your point, you move to swallow another mouthful of the porridge. It is cold and you nearly gag when it travels down your throat. Ahlf stares at you, his eyes narrowing when you continue to tremble under your cloak. A breath escapes Ahlf, a weary sound that fills the space between you. "You are a poor liar," Ahlf murmurs. He leans over the table, his large form stretching towards you with little trouble. You tense when his palm, rough from hauling fishing nets, presses against your forehead. An odd look settles on Ahlf's face and for a moment, you think he looks scared. "You are warm," he comments. "Leave the food. You need to sleep." <<elseif $prlg12a_2 is 4>> You look down, uncertain how to respond to your father. He is not an unkind man, but it is difficult to know how he will respond at times. Sometimes, you think that Ahlf is like a stranger and that one day, Mama will return and tell you that he is not really your father. But it has been two years and Mama has not returned and Ahlf still avoids you when he can. "Look up at me," Ahlf commands. You tense in your seat, fear pooling in your gut. Swallowing the rise of bile, you look up at Ahlf. His eyebrows are furrowed but he does not speak. Maybe he is upset that you are not eating? But before you cam swallow a mouthful of the porridge, Ahlf leans over the table, his hand pressing against your forehead. "You are warm," he murmurs. Withdrawing his hand, he nods towards your sleeping cot. "Go, rest now." <<elseif $prlg12a_2 is 5>> "Why do you care?" you scoff. A heavy silence settles over the both of you as you stare up at Ahlf. You know that you are being disrespectful, but your frustration at your father's apathy towards you has become too much to bear. You think that he is only keeping you with him because Mama asked him to. It is hard to imagine that Ahlf even cares if you're happy or if you miss Ishari. "$name," Ahlf sighs. "I am only asking you a question." You scowl. "And I am only answering it." Ahlf growls, a low sound that sends a sliver of fear down your spine. You have seen him angry before, especially when you have upset him. He often leaves the cottage and returns only when it is late. You do not think that he will leave now with the storm outside. But Ahlf stands, his chair scraping against the floor. "I'm going to get more logs for the fire," he mutters. "Finish your supper then go to bed." <</if>> [[Next.|prlg12a_4]]

That night, as you lay in your tiny cot, your skin becomes hot. You can barely sleep, when your skin is slick with sweat and your blankets feel like they are strangling you. Kicking off the covers grants you a small reprieve, but the heat returns. It feels like your blood has turned into liquid fire. Stumbling out of your cot, you pad towards the front of the door, hoping to cool the flushed heat of your skin with the night's breeze. You do not know where Ahlf is and your head feels heavy, but you manage to unlatch the door after a few tries. It is raining when you step outside. The water cools your skin and for a moment, you can only stand there, enjoying the feel of the water dripping down your clothes and face. A sudden crack of thunder startles you. You blink, the fatigue of your fever easing as you slowly become aware of where you stand. Another roar rumbles above you. You begin to shiver, the rain now pelting at the top of your head. "$name!" It takes you a moment to realise that the sound comes from Ahlf. He is standing in front of you, his fingers digging into your arms. His lips are moving but you can hardly hear him over the rain. He frowns at you, before wrapping his arms around your form and lifting you against his chest. <<set $prlg12a_4 to 0>> [[You press your face into Ahlf's chest, desperate for his steady assurance.|prlg12a_5][$prlg12a_4 +=1, $AhlfRel +=5]] [[You clutch tightly at his arms, frightened that he will let you go.|prlg12a_5][$prlg12a_4 +=2, $AhlfRel +=5]] [[You squirm and push at him, trying to free yourself of his hold.|prlg12a_5][$prlg12a_4 +=3, $AhlfRel -=5]]

<<if $prlg12a_4 is 1>> You press your face into Ahlf's chest, desperate for his steady assurance. Ahlf's grip on you is strong, his arms unflinching as he carries you back into the cottage. As you bury yourself into his steady hold, you feel his graps tighten in response, holding you against him. <<elseif $prlg12a_4 is 2>> You clutch tightly at his arms, frightened that he will let you go. It must hurt him, as you grip tightly at his arms, your nails digging into his skin. But Ahlf does not loosen his grasp around you. You can only marvel at his strength as he carries you into the cottage with little fuss. <<elseif $prlg12a_4 is 3>> You squirm and push at him, trying to free yourself of his hold. Ahlf grunts but he does not loosen his grip on you, despite your wriggling. You think that his arms tighten around you, when you nearly kick him off of you, but it only proves just how futile your strength is against his as he carries you into the cottage. <</if>> Once you are inside, Ahlf sets you down in front of the fireplace. He moves away, striking a flint before muttering a low curse when the logs do not catch aflame. He glances at you, your clothes drenched and water, pooling beneath your feet. Grumbling, he discards the flint and leaves only to return with a heavy towel. "Foolish child," Ahlf mutters. He is rough as he dries you, wiping at your face and head. "Are you so blind to the storm?" <<set $prlg12a_5 to 0>> [["I am sorry," you apologise.|prlg12a_6][$prlg12a_5 +=1, $AhlfRel +=5]] [["I was feeling hot," you explain.|prlg12a_6][$prlg12a_5 +=2, $AhlfRel +=5]] [["Please do not be mad at me," you breathe.|prlg12a_6][$prlg12a_5 +=3, $AhlfRel +=5]] [["I do not need your help," you snap.|prlg12a_6][$prlg12a_5 +=4, $AhlfRel -=5]] [[You burst into tears, overwhelmed by the whole ordeal.|prlg12a_6][$prlg12a_5 +=5, $AhlfRel +=5]]

<<if $prlg12a_5 is 1>> "I am sorry," you apologise. Your words come out mumbled and soft. A long moment passes when Ahlf does not speak. His hold slackens and then, he draws away the towel from you. You fear that he is mad at you, but when you look up at his face, you notice that his eyes are on the floor. "Come, you need to get changed," he murmurs. You peel away the drenched night shirt and discard it on the floor. It lands with a heavy splat. Ahlf sighs, passing you a new set of clothes, before he begins tending to the fire once more. This time, the flint catches the logs and the flames quickly rise, warming your chilled skin. "Stay here for a while," Ahlf instructs. He guides you onto a chair. "Do not think of leaving the cottage again, $name." <<elseif $prlg12a_5 is 2>> "I was feeling hot," you explain. Ahlf frowns, his eyes searching your face. You fidget under his stare but whatever anger you expected, does not come. A heavy breath escapes Ahlf's lips and he begins to wipe your face, the rough towel scratching your skin. "You need to change," Ahlf explains, withdrawing the towel. Slowly, with Ahlf's help, you peel off your drenched night shirt and redress in the new one he has brought for you. He turns away, this time managing to light the logs in the fireplace. It roars to life, the logs crackling as its heat wards away the chill in your bones. "Sit here awhile," Ahlf instructs. He guides you towards a chair. "You are cold now, $name." <<elseif $prlg12a_5 is 3>> "Please do not be mad at me," you breathe. Your voice is barely a whisper and you can barely look at Ahlf's face. It is true that your relationship with this man, your father, has not been an easy one. Nothing you seem to do makes him happy. You miss Mama and her smile and laugh, but all Ahlf does is look at you like you are a stranger. His touch softens and a breath escapes him. "I am not mad." You look up, surprised by his words. For a moment, you are struck by the way that Ahlf looks at you. His steely eyes now rest on you with something akin to affection. "Come, you need to change," he explains. It takes you a few tries to peel off your wet night shirt, but Ahlf seems to sense your difficulty and moves to help you. Soon, you are dry and sitting in a chair while Ahlf manages to light the fire. The flames leap up at the logs, warming you and the rest of the chilled room. "Sit here and get warm," Ahlf instructs. <<elseif $prlg12a_5 is 4>> "I do not need your help," you snap. Ahlf's eyes narrow as he looks at you, but he does not listen to your protest. He continues to dry your skin and face, ignoring the way you wriggle and squirm, trying to get away from his touch. He is not gentle and he does not smile and all you can think about it how much you do not want this. "Stand still," Ahlf scolds. His voice is sharp, as loud as a thunderclap as causes you to stiffen where you stand. A tired breath leaves Ahlf as he finally draws away. He frowns at you, as if you have caused him great trouble by venturing outside. But you can only scowl in response, suddenly upset and angry at this man who is supposed to be your father. "Get changed," he orders. You struggle to peel away your drenched night shirt, but when Ahlf moves to help you, you slap his hands away. He shakes his head, before turning his attention to the fireplace. Eventually, you manage to change into a dry night shirt, while Ahlf lights the fire. "Sit in front of the fire," Ahlf says. "And do not move, do you understand?" You frown, nodding. <<elseif $prlg12a_5 is 5>> You burst into tears, overwhelmed by the whole ordeal. It is all too much for you and you just want to go back to Mama. Your eyes sting as tears flow down your cheeks and snot bubbles past your nose. Ahlf's hold slackens, before he lets his hands fall from you. "Why are you crying?" Ahlf asks. But his question only causes your sobs to increase and your tears to start afresh. Your breaths comes out in gasps and you can taste the salt on your lips. A breath leaves Ahlf, before he returns to you with the towel. This time, he wipes away at your tears and nose, instructing you to breathe when you begin to tremble. "Come, you need to change," Ahlf murmurs. "You will feel better after you are dry and warm." You manage to peel off your wet night shirt and with Ahlf's help, change into a fresh one. Ahlf guides you to a nearby chair, wiping at your eyes once more before he turns to light the logs in the fireplace. It takes a few tries, but eventually, the flames leap up to lick at the logs, warming your skin. "Sit here for a while, $name," Ahlf breathes. <</if>> [[Next.|prlg12a_7]]

As you sit in the chair, your eyes begin to burn as fatigue latches onto your limbs. You are dry now and the warmth wraps around you like one of Mama's hugs. For a moment, you think that you can see her face, her smile as she holds you close to her chest. She is warm and she smells like the sea. "Drink this," she whispers. You open your mouth, tasting something bitter but you drink dutifully. It burns your throat, but you do not mind. You would do anything to see Mama smile at you again. "Do you wish to sleep now?" she asks. Your head feels heavy when you nod, but Mama rewards you with another smile. It warms you down to your toes and when she picks you, you cannot help but think how much bigger she feels. [[Next.|prlg13]]

<<set $year to "Aedes, 533">><div class="timeline">Age of Aedes, Year 533, Summer</div> <center>[[Next.|prlg14a_1]]</center>

Summer this year brings a festival to Salt Bay. You do not know much about the festival, only that it is to worship Solus and his protection of the kingdom. It coincides with your birth month - Cerura and has left you both desperate to know more and fearful of what might happen if you venture out alone. Ahlf has forbidden you from attending the festival. He claims that it is no place for someone your age but you know better. Staying away from the festival has nothing to do with your age, but has everything to do with your heritage. Still, your curiosity does not ease as the hours pass. It grows, a nagging thing. There is music and laughter and sounds that you have not heard before in Salt Bay. So, when Ahlf goes to bed, grumbling about the noise, you don your cloak and slip away to the festival. [[Next.|prlg14a_2]]

The main streets have been transformed with bright lanterns and colourful banners. There are numerous stalls set up along the road, most donning the symbol of the sun in honour of Solus. As you walk further into the streets, you are struck by the amount of people who have come out to celebrate the festival. Someone bumps into your shoulder and you nearly stumble. They mutter a curse at you, before moving away. You draw your cloak tighter around you, the hood obscuring your face. If Ahlf knew that you were here, he would most likely confine you to the cottage for the rest of your existence. Your eyes wide, you take in the rest of the hamlet, your excitement bubbling in your stomach. <<set $festival_explore to 0>> [[Visit the stall filled with songs and laughter.|prlg14a_fes1][$festival_explore +=1]] [[Visit the stall where priests speak of Solus.|prlg14a_fes2][$festival_explore +=2]]

You catch sight of a brightly coloured tent, the flaps pulled aside to reveal a wooden stall surrounded by a small crowd. Weaving your way through the gathered audience, you catch a glimpse of a auburn-haired woman who sings a jaunty song. The crowd around you laughs at something she says, but their laughter is lost on you. In your time with Ahlf, you have not had much interaction with the people in Salt Bay. They have kept away from you and you have steered clear of them in return. Still, now surrounded by the people who have shunned you for most of your life, you are... <<set $prlg14a_fes1 to 0>> [[...sad, knowing that you will never be accepted by the people in Salt Bay.|prlg14a_fes1_1][$prlg14a_fes1 +=1]] [[...angry, because they judge you based on your heritage, not on the person you are.|prlg14a_fes1_1][$prlg14a_fes1 +=2]] [[...unbothered, for their hatred of you is not your concern.|prlg14a_fes1_1][$prlg14a_fes1 +=3]] [[...conflicted, feeling a myriad of emotions regarding their treatment of you.|prlg14a_fes1_1][$prlg14a_fes1 +=4]]

You approach the robed priests, who wear circlets of gold and dark robes, embroidered with golden thread. They stand atop a wooden platform, their stall filled with golden idols and charms of the sun. You stand near the back of the gathered crowd, pulling the hood of your cape further over your face, as you turn your attention to the priests before you. "...Solus is the true God, the God of All. We celebrate him for his blessings have been great and his protection endless." The crowd murmur in agreement around you. You stare up at the priest who speaks. His robes are more regal than the others and pinned to the front of his breast, is a golden disc. "Without Solus, we would still be plagued by the Ishari savages. We would be worshipping the monsters they call deities and sacrificing our children to appease them." You stiffen. By the raucous cacophony of the crowd, you know that if they discover you here, you will only be made an example of. As you turn to escape the crowd, you think over the priest's words. <<set $prlg14a_fes2 to 0>> [[The priest is wrong. Solus is not unkind to those who are different.|prlg14a_fes2_1][$prlg14a_fes2 +=1]] [[You are angered by the priest's comments on the Ancient Ones.|prlg14a_fes2_1][$prlg14a_fes2 +=2]] [[You do not care about what the priest says.|prlg14a_fes2_1][$prlg14a_fes2 +=3]] [[It is upsetting that the priest preaches such falsehoods about the Ancient Ones.|prlg14a_fes2_1][$prlg14a_fes2 +=4]]

<<if $prlg14a_fes1 is 1>> A wave of despair crashes over you, dulling your mood as the others around you cheer and clap. Your life in Salt Bay has not been an easy one. Many turn away at your sight and others have only hurled insults as you've passed them on the streets. It has not been an easy task to ignore the pain that has come from being half-Ishari, nor has it been easy to endure the sadness that has plagued you. <<elseif $prlg14a_fes1 is 2>> Fury spreads through you, like the flames of fire. It courses through your blood, tightening around your chest until you can barely breathe over the rage you feel. You do not understand why the people of Salt Bay cannot seem to move past their judgment of you. Despite your Ishari heritage, you are still share your father's Cyre blood. Yet, the people of Salt Bay do not care. To them, you will always be an unwanted outsider. <<elseif $prlg14a_fes1 is 3>> The people of Salt Bay have always been antagonistic towards you. Their hatred is undoubtedly spurred on by your mixed heritage, not fully Ishari and still, not completely part of Cyre either. You have tried over the years to make yourself scarce to their stares and whispers, but it did not deter their hatred of you. You quickly realised that nothing you could do or say would stop their hatred of you, so you became numb to it. <<elseif $prlg14a_fes1 is 4>> A wave of resentment, followed by the hollow ache of sadness washes over you. The crowd around you cheer, but your conflicting emotions makes it difficult to concentrate on the singer in front of you. The complex feelings that come with being half-Ishari is something that has become all too familiar to you and it leaves you rattled. <</if>> The rhythmic drumming and chanting crowd becomes louder as you struggle to move away from the enclosing audience. You are pushed and shoved, someone jabbing you in the side with their elbow. It is hard to breathe or to look over the bodies around you and you find yourself stumbling back. You trip, your weight colliding with someone. Blinking, you look up to find a boy, no older than you, glaring at you. It takes you a moment to realise that the hood of your cape has slipped off. "Ishari cur," the boy spits. "You will pay for this." [[Next.|prlg14a_3]]

You quickly realise that you are outnumbered. The boy you bumped into has you cornered against the wall of a nearby cottage. They have dragged you to a small street, dark and desolate. There is no one around, apart from the boy and his two friends - a girl who is slightly shorter than him and someone you cannot quite make out over the swelling in your left eye. "You should return to your home," the boy spits. "Let the Blood Guard finish you off properly." He laughs at his own joke, spittle flying past his lips. Crowded by the three of them, you know that Ahlf was right to forbid you from attending the festival. None of the people want you here. The girl steps forward, raising her hand at you. <<set $prlg14a_3 to 0>> [["Please, just let me go," you plead.|prlg14a_4][$prlg14a_3 +=1]] [[You launch yourself at them, intending to defend yourself.|prlg14a_4][$prlg14a_3 +=2]] [["You're the real monster here," you spit.|prlg14a_4][$prlg14a_3 +=3]] [[You raise your arms, cowering under their assault.|prlg14a_4][$prlg14a_3 +=4]] [[You try to push past them and flee.|prlg14a_4][$prlg14a_3 +=5]]

<<if $prlg14a_fes2 is 1>> The priest is wrong. Solus is not unkind to those who are different. You have not known any deity to promote hatred of others and from what little you know, the Ancient Ones were once revered in Cyre, before the Blood Guard began their attacks on Ishari. The priest seems to be speaking of his own ideals, ideals that resonate with the people of Salt Bay. <<elseif $prlg14a_fes2 is 2>> You are angered by the priest's comments on the Ancient Ones. It infuriates you to know that there are people who believe the lies that he spews about the deities that were once revered in Cyre. As your rage spreads through you, making it hard to breathe, you noticce the way the crowd around you nods in agreement. It seems that the priest has found a crowd in Salt Bay, eager to villify the Ancient Ones. <<elseif $prlg14a_fes2 is 3>> You do not care about what the priest says. It does not bother you, not when the bearing of his words has no effect on you. As you push past the crowd of people, you notice the eager expressions they wear. You can only shake your head, knowing that nothing will change the minds of those around you. <<elseif $prlg14a_fes2 is 4>> It is upsetting that the priest preaches such falsehoods about the Ancient Ones. In Ishari, things had not been the way the priest preaches to the crowd. There had been no savagery or cruelty in the rituals Mama performed. Knowing the the priest preaches of such deceits leaves you upset and saddened to know that the crowd around you believe him. <</if>> As you reach the edge of the crowd around you, you struggle to weave past the thickening audience. You are pushed and shoved, someone jabbing you in the side with their elbow. It is hard to breathe or to look over the bodies around you and you find yourself stumbling back. You trip, your weight colliding with someone. Blinking, you look up to find a boy, no older than you, glaring at you. It takes you a moment to realise that the hood of your cape has slipped off. "Ishari cur," the boy spits. "You will pay for this." [[Next.|prlg14a_3]]

<<if $prlg14a_3 is 1>> "Please, just let me go," you plead. "Let you go?" the first boy snarls. The girl slaps you then, the sting of her palm against your face enough to draw tears to your eyes. For a moment, you can only stand there, struggling to understand what is happening. But then, the boy moves closer. He reaches into his coat, drawing out a dull blade. It looks like the kind Ahlf uses to gut fish, but it is no less frightening. "I am going to enjoy every moment of this-" <<elseif $prlg14a_3 is 2>> You launch yourself at them, intending to defend yourself. It is a fool's attempt but you are not going to be the weak victim they intend you to be. Your launch takes the three by surprise and you manage to swing your fist towards the girl first. Your hand collides with her face and despite the sharp pain that spreads through your fingers, you can only grin when she cries out. But your victory does not last for long. The first boy tackles you to the ground. He is heavy and as you struggle to free yourself, you notice that he now wields a dull blade in his grip. His teeth glint at you as he grins. "You will die tonight, Ishari-" <<elseif $prlg14a_3 is 3>> "You're the real monster here," you spit. Your words come out sharp and full of the rage you feel at the abuse you have been made to suffer, simply for being born half-Ishari. The boy steps closer to you, his eyes narrowing at your face. "Monster?" he scoffs. "You think that we are the monsters? Look at you, Ishari cur. You are the one who is the monster. When will you understand that you should have died a long time ago?" He reaches into his coat, drawing out a dull blade. The blade looks like a common knife, but you know that despite its meagre appearance, it can still kill as well as a sword. "Tonight, I will end you-" <<elseif $prlg14a_3 is 4>> You raise your arms, cowering under their assault. The girl strikes you first, her hands colliding with your face. It hurts and it takes you all of your strength to withstand her punches and scratches. When the assault finally eases, you think that they may have gotten bored of you. But you quickly realise how wrong you are when you look up and catch sight of a dull blade in the first boy's hand. He grins at you, a sadistic smile that sends a shiver of fear down your spine. "We'll end this tonight, Ishari-" <<elseif $prlg14a_3 is 5>> You try to push past them and flee. It takes you all of your strength to push against their forms and even then, it is not enough. The first boy manages to grip your arm in his hold, his nails biting into your skin. He shoves you back against the wall. A sharp pain spreads through your neck and travels up to your head. "Thought we were just going to let you go?" he demands. Your breaths come out sharp and it is hard to focus over the throbbing in your skull. There is no one else around and you realise how foolish you had been to disobey Ahlf. You suddenly notice a dull glint of metal as the boy draws out a blade from his coat. He waves it dangerously close to your face and you flinch. "Look at you," he laughs. "Tonight, I'll gut you like-" <</if>> "Emos, this is going too far." The voice comes from the third person, who now steps close enough for you to notice that... <<set $dena to 0>> [[...it is a tall boy with green eyes.|prlg14a_5][$dena +=1]] [[...it is a tall girl with green eyes.|prlg14a_5][$dena +=2, $Dhe to "she", $Dhim to "her", $Dhis to "her", $Dgender to "woman"]]

You look up at the <<if $dena is 1>>boy<<else>>girl<</if>> who steps foward towards the knife wielder, Emos. There is a hardness in $Dhis eyes, a level of warning that causes Emos to falter. Emos turns to you and spits, the glob landing on your cheek. "You're lucky Dena was here to save you," Emos spits. He scowls at you before retreating with the shorter girl in tow. You're left alone. No. Dena is here too. You stare up at $Dhim, an unfamiliar face who has deigned to save you from what could have been your death. "Can you walk?" Dena asks. You manage a nod, though it only elicits a painful hiss from your lips. "You live with the fisherman up on the hill, right?" Dena asks. "Yes," you answer. "It's fine. I can manage-" "Emos will wait to get you alone," Dena interrupts. "I'll walk you back." [[Next.|prlg14a_6]]

You walk in uncomfortable silence alongside Dena. The streets here are quieter and you cannot help but glance over your shoulder, in case Emos is really following you. The throbbing in your face has dulled somewhat, allowing you a moment to look towards the <<if $dena is 1>>boy<<else>>girl<</if>> who saved you tonight. Dena is tall, taller than most people your age and far taller than you. <<if $dena is 1>>His<<else>>Her<</if>> hair is dark, nearly black under the moonlight and $Dhis eyes are a pale green that seems older than the face that wears it. <<set $prlg14a_6 to 0>> [["Thank you for helping before," you mumble.|prlg14a_7][$prlg14a_6 +=1]] [["You didn't have to help me, but you did so thank you," you say.|prlg14a_7][$prlg14a_6 +=2]] [["You're as bad as your friends," you mutter.|prlg14a_7][$prlg14a_6 +=3]] [["I didn't need your help back there," you spit.|prlg14a_7][$prlg14a_6 +=4]] [[You remain silent, uncertain what to say to Dena.|prlg14a_7][$prlg14a_6 +=5]]

<<if $prlg14a_6 is 1>> "Thank you for helping before," you mumble. Dena startles, as if forgetting your presence for a moment. Turning towards you, $Dhe flashes you a smile and you are struck by the sight. No one has ever smiled at you before in Salt Bay. "It was the least that I could do," Dena explains. "Emos can take a jest a bit too far at times." You frown. What had happened was not a jest. You could sense Emos' hatred for you, a thick thing that nearly cost you your life. You keep your thoughts to yourself, all too aware that Dena was complicit when the others had struck out at you. <<elseif $prlg14a_6 is 2>> "You didn't have to help me, but you did so thank you," you say. Dena regards you with a small smile, shrugging as $Dhe continues to walk beside you. For a moment, neither of you speak and you begin to think that Dena will not respond. It is only when you are a few paces further that Dena turns to regard you. "Emos has a hard time with Ishari people," Dena explains. "Tonight though, he took the jest too far." You nearly balk at what Dena refers to as a jest. Cornering you and forcing you to endure their beatings was not a jest, but a cruel attack simply because of your heritage. You remain quiet, suddenly aware of Dena's complacency when you were being taunted. <<elseif $prlg14a_6 is 3>> "You're as bad as your friends," you mutter. Dena stiffens beside you and as you turn towards $Dhim, you notice the way that $Dhe avoids your stare. You scowl at $Dhim, knowing that just because $Dhe saved you from being butchered by Emos, it does not mean that $Dhe is any better. "I tried to stop them," Dena murmurs after a moment. "But Emos is stubborn and he's been wanting to fight someone. You were just there and I suppose, he took out his anger on you." Your frown deepens as the rage in you flares. It only seems as if Dena is making excuses for Emos. What you experienced tonight was cruel and could have resulted in something worse happening to you. You remain quiet, suddenly aware of Dena's complacency when Emos had first attacked you. <<elseif $prlg14a_6 is 4>> "I didn't need your help back there," you spit. Dena snorts, the sound full of derision. You turn to glare at $Dhim and find that Dena is already staring at you with a look of disbelief. "You are not serious, are you?" $Dhe asks. "If it wasn't for me, Emos would have done far worse." You eyes narrow at Dena. For a moment, fury as hot as fire, courses through you. It is hard to understand how Dena thinks that $Dhe is any better than Emos? When you were first being taunted, Dena had remained quiet, content to watch you suffer. "So I'm supposed to thank you?" you scoff. "For what? Waiting until the last moment before deciding to help?" Dena frowns at you. "I only meant that if I hadn't stopped Emos when I did, you'd probably be worse off." You shake your head, too angry to reply. Your hands clench at your sides and you suddenly become aware of Dena's complacency when Emos had first attacked you. No, no matter what Dena did, you know that $Dhe is just like the others. <<elseif $prlg14a_6 is 5>> You remain silent, uncertain what to say to Dena. As you walk, the silence grows thicker and the tension in the air becomes palpable. You have not had much contact with others around your age and by a quick glance at Dena, you know that $Dhe cannot be more than a year or two older than you. As you turn towards the narrow path which will lead you back home, Dena clears $Dhis throat, drawing your attention towards him. "I'm sorry," $Dhe says. "I didn't think Emos would go that far." You shrug, remaining quiet. It is not uncommon to be treated this badly, though it has never gotten to the point where you have been left bruised and swollen. You suppose Ahlf's presence had kept most away from becoming this violent towards you, but you had never realised just how bad it could be without him there. "It was just supposed to be a jest," Dena explains. "I didn't think that Emos would- It doesn't matter now." You frown. A jest? What happened tonight had been more than a jest. It was cruel and humiliating and left you with injuries that you knew you would have to explain to Ahlf in the morning. As you glance at Dena, you become all too aware of $Dhis complacency when Dena first attacked you and realise that $Dhe is just as bad as Emos. <</if>> [[Next.|prlg14a_8]]

The cottage finally comes into view and well of relief spreads through your aching limbs. As you step closer, you find yourself pausing. Ahlf is already outside, wearing the cloak he often wears during the early hours of the morning. His eyes find yours and you watch his eyes take in your appearance, his eyebrows furrowing. "What happened?" he demands. He strides towards you and reaches out as if to grip you, but instead, his hands fall to his sides. "Who did this to you?" "It was an accident-" Dena begins but Ahlf turns his glower onto Dena. The <<if $dena is 1>>boy<<else>>girl<</if>> shrinks back from your father's glare and when you turn towards $Dhim, you catch a glimpse of fear in $Dhis pale eyes. "Was it you?" Ahlf growls. "You did this to my $heir?" <<set $prlg14a_8 to 0>> [["It wasn't Dena," you interrupt.|prlg14a_9][$prlg14a_8 +=1]] [[You remain quiet, unwilling to defend Dena.|prlg14a_9][$prlg14a_8 +=2]]

<<if $prlg14a_8 is 1>> "It wasn't Dena," you interrupt. Ahlf turns to look at you. His eyes trace over your left eye, nearly closed shut from the swelling and he lets out a ragged breath. "I told you that you were not allowed to go to the festival," he mutters. "And look where it got you." You open your mouth to respond, but your father shakes his head, silencing you with a single look. He reaches, grabbing your shoulder as he leads you back towards the cottage. As you are led into the cottage, you turn to look at where Dena had been, but all you see is $Dhis back as $Dhe walks away. <<elseif $prlg14a_8 is 2>> You remain quiet, unwilling to defend Dena. When you do not speak, Dena turns to you with narrowed eyes. Ahlf strides closer to $Dhim and for a moment, you are struck by the way your father looks. It is cold and nearly as cruel as the way Emos had stared at you. "You hurt $MChim and you have the audacity to-" "I didn't hurt $MChim," Dena interrupts. "It was Emos. I only walked $MChim back. If you want to blame someone, look elsewhere." Dena turns away and flees. Ahlf lets out a ragged breath, as if all the fury has gone, replaced with a weariness that weighs down his shoulders. Turning to face you, Ahlf frowns. "Come inside," he grunts. "We need to tend to your injuries." <</if>> [[Next.|prlg14b]]

<div class="timeline">Age of Aedes, Year 534, Spring</div> <center>[[Next.|prlg14b_1]]</center>

<<set $year to "Aedes, 534">><div class="timeline">Salt Bay, Cyre</div> It is not until the following year that you see Dena again. By now, you are sixteen and the injuries from that night have remained only in your memories. You are in the crowded market with Ahlf as he sells the fish from the large haul this spring. Despite the fact that you are half-Ishari, many of the locals stop to peruse the fish in Ahlf's stall, perhaps too eager to pass up the cheaper prices. You notice Dena, standing with a brightly dressed woman with wrinkles lining her face. They are a few steps away from Ahlf's stall when Dena turns and $Dhis eyes catch sight of you. In the year that has passed, Dena has grown taller and you note that $Dhis gangly form has filled out, drawing the appreciation of others around you. <<set $prlg14b_1 to 0>><<set $dena_rom to false>> [[You are equally taken aback by Dena's attractiveness.|prlg14b_2][$prlg14b_1 +=1, $dena_rom to true]] [[You notice Dena's attractiveness, but are unbothered by it.|prlg14b_2][$prlg14b_1 +=2]]

<<if $dena is 1>> Dena has matured in the time that has passed. His dark hair has been cropped close to his scalp and his pale eyes are filled with an air of confidence that had not been there before. He walks with large strides, his muscular physique impressive beneath his well-made coat.<<else>>Dena has matured in the time that has passed. Her dark hair has grown out below her shoulders, curling at the edges and her height, impressive as it is, does not detract from the feminine form beneath her coat.<</if>> <<if $prlg14b_1 is 1>> You are struck by Dena's apparent attractiveness and suddenly feel plain in your simple garb. Being a fisherman's $heir does not afford you with much choice in the types of clothes that you get to wear. You are uncertain what the feeling inside you is, only that it leaves you feeling embarrassed to be seen by Dena like this. <<elseif $prlg14b_1 is 2>> Dena is dressed in attire that you have only seen worn by the passing merchants. In the year that has passed, you have not seen Dena until now and $Dhis apparent wealth leaves you curious as to where $Dhe comes from. Glancing at the woman beside him, you note the gold rings that adorn her fingers and the ease at which she walks through the market. <</if>> [[Next.|prlg14b_3]]

Dena and the woman draw closer, but the woman seems to barely glance in your direction as she strides farther down the path. Dena follows her, $Dhis eyes focussed ahead. As $Dhe passes by, you find yourself tensing, uncertain what to expect. Your last meeting had been under poor circumstances and after Ahlf chastised you for wandering off alone, you have not had a moment to yourself. As you begin to think that Dena will ignore you, you watch as $Dhe speaks to the woman beside $Dhim. She shrugs, waving at Dena as she continues to walk without $Dhim. Your eyes track Dena's movements, watching as $Dhe begins to retrace $Dhis steps until they carry $Dhim to Ahlf's stall. Ahlf's attention is on one of the locals and as you look up at Dena, you notice that $Dhe motions for you to come closer. Curiosity lures you towards Dena. Standing this close, you notice how much taller $Dhe has become. "It's me," Dena breathes. "Dena. Do you remember, from the festival?" "Yes," you reply. You leave out the part that it is difficult to forget the pain that night caused. "It's good to see you," Dena speaks, grinning. "You look well. I heard from Rael that you were still around." Dena notices your confusion. "Oh right, Rael is the girl with Emos that night. She said your name is $name, in all the chaos, I never really asked for it." <<set $prlg14b_3 to 0>> [["What do you want?" you demand, rankled by Dena's familiarity with you.|prlg14b_4][$prlg14b_3 +=1]] [["Why are you here?" you ask, curious why Dena came to speak to you.|prlg14b_4][$prlg14b_3 +=2]] [["I need to get back to my father," you mutter, tiring of this conversation.|prlg14b_4][$prlg14b_3 +=3]]

<<if $prlg14b_3 is 1>> "What do you want?" you demand, rankled by Dena's familiarity with you. Dena's expression falters, $Dhis eyes lowering to the ground. You stare at $Dhim, suddenly struck by the remorse in $Dhis expression. Dena lets out a breath, before $Dhis green eyes meet yours. "I suppose I deserve your ire," Dena sighs. "The last time we spoke, it was not under the best of circumstances. Know that I feel guilty over what happened, $name. I have had much time to think about that night and I only regret not doing something sooner to help you." You are surprised by Dena's apology, remembering the night that Emos struck you and Dena did nothing but watch at first. <<elseif $prlg14b_3 is 2>> "Why are you here?" you ask, curious why Dena came to speak to you. Dena glances in the direction of the woman $Dhe had been accompanying, before $Dhis green eyes return to you. Lifting $Dhis shoulders into a shrug, Dena smiles. "I am an apprentice to Mistress Rohesia," Dena explains. "She has been mentoring me in the skills of trade and commerce. I have been travelling with her for nearly a year now and her travels lie farther towards the north. We are only here for a few days so I thought to seek you out." You nod, though it still does not answer your lingering question as to why Dena thought it best to seek you out. Perhaps noticing your confusion, Dena lets out a shaky breath. "I... I wanted to apologise for what happened at the festival," Dena murmurs. "I regret that I did not try to help you sooner when Emos cornered you." You are surprised by Dena's apology, remembering the night that Emos struck you and Dena did nothing but watch at first. <<elseif $prlg14b_3 is 3>> "I need to get back to my father," you mutter, tiring of this conversation. As you turn away from Dena, $Dhe reaches out, gripping your arm. You frown at $Dhim and he lets his grip loosen, but does not pull away. Watching you, Dena lets out a breath. "Please, $name," Dena says. "At least listen to what I have to say." You tug free of Dena's grip, returning your attention onto $Dhim. Nodding for $Dhim to go on, you watch as Dena lets out a relieved breath. "Look, $name," Dena murmurs. "I wanted to tell you that I have felt guilty for what happened at the festival. Emos had been cruel to you and I had not stopped him. I only regret that I let it get that far before stepping in." You are surprised by Dena's apology, remembering the night that Emos struck you and Dena did nothing but watch at first. <</if>> "Please, let me make it up to you," Dena says. "There is a tavern near the docks, where I am staying with my mentor. It is called the Salted Fish, but it is run by a retired merchant. You will be welcome there and I would like to spend more time with you, if you allowed it." You stare at Dena and mull over $Dhis offer. In the end, you... <<set $dena_agree to false>> [[...agree to meet with Dena.|prlg14b_5][$dena_agree to true]] [[...refuse to meet with Dena.|prlg14b_5]]

<<if $dena_agree is true>> Dena leaves wearing a large smile on $Dhis face and you return to the stall, Ahlf's attention still occupied by the current customer. You agreed to meet with Dena because... [[...you are desperate for a friend your age.|prlg14b_6]] [[...you wish to have more freedom from your father's rules.|prlg14b_6]] [[...you are curious about Dena's life and want to hear more about the world outside Salt Bay.|prlg14b_6]] [[...you have never been to a tavern before and are curious about what it's like.|prlg14b_6]] [[...you are attracted to Dena and wish to explore your new feelings.|prlg14b_6]] <<elseif $dena_agree is false>> Dena nods at you, the disappointment in $Dhis face evident as he walks away from where you stand. You return to the stall, where Ahlf is still dealing with the earlier customer. He hardly glances at you, giving you a moment to process Dena's request. You refused to meet with Dena because... [[...you do not trust Dena after everything that has happened.|prlg14b_6]] [[...you are afraid of being hurt again by those in Salt Bay.|prlg14b_6]] [[...you do not like Dena and the idea of spending time together puts you in a foul mood.|prlg14b_6]] [[...you are afraid of upsetting Ahlf by venturing out on your own again.|prlg14b_6]] [[...you have no interest in spending time at a tavern.|prlg14b_6]] <</if>>

<<if $dena_agree is true>> With your decision made, the only obstacle in your path is to find a way to convince Ahlf into letting you visit the tavern. [[Next.|prlg14b_7]] <<else>> With your decision made, you return your attention to helping Ahlf sell the remaining fish displayed in the stall. You will not be spending more time with Dena and for good reason. [[Next.|prlg14_2]] <</if>>

It turns out that you do not need to come up with a reason to convince Ahlf into letting you visit Dena at the tavern. Today's sales at the market had been successful and left most of the crates empty. After a light supper of bread and a vegetable stew, your father told you that he will be out at sea tonight, hoping to replenish the fish that was sold today. Left alone, you are free to venture out of the cottage, without the knowledge of your father. As soon as Ahlf leaves the cottage, you slip on your boots and fasten your heavy cloak around your shoulders before heading out to the Salted Fish. [[Next.|prlg14b_8]]

The Salted Fish tavern is situated near the shores of Salt Bay. You have passed it a few times when you helped Ahlf at sea, but this is the first time that you are stepping inside the old, wooden building. The tavern is noisy and humid as you enter. A roar of laughter bursts through the air and you are nearly trampled by a burly patron. It takes you a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dimness of the interior and you use this time to take note of your surroundings. A group of men are gathered in the corner and there is an enormous pile of empty tankards on the ground. The air smells heavily of sweat. To the far right, you spot two women, embracing in a way that leaves you embarrassed to have caught a glimpse of them. "$name." You turn towards the familiar voice, finding Dena striding towards you. Dena's height makes it easy for $Dhim to weave through the crowded room and you are grateful when $Dhe leads you towards a quiet table, away from the raucous. [[Next.|prlg14b_9]]

Dena has managed to get a table in the back and you spy a few tankards atop the table. As you take a seat, Dena thrusts a tankard in your direction. You grip the mug, staring into the pale drink, the sour odour stinging your eyes. "Drink up," Dena laughs. "It won't kill you." <<set $prlg14b_9 to 0>> [[You take a sip of your drink, curious about what it tastes like.|prlg14b_10][$prlg14b_9 +=1]] [[You gulp down the drink, eager to taste alcohol for the first time.|prlg14b_10][$prlg14b_9 +=2]] [[You push away the tankard, not willing to drink its contents.|prlg14b_10][$prlg14b_9 +=3]]

<<if $prlg14b_9 is 1>> You bring the tankard to your lips and manage a small sip. The taste is unlike anything you have had before. It is tart and then, bitter and you manage to swallow a mouthful before pushing it away. Dena laughs as you wrinkle your nose, the vile taste of beer lingering in your mouth. <<elseif $prlg14b_9 is 2>> It is your first time tasting beer. Ahlf often drinks after long days out at sea, but he has never offered you the same. Now, you down the tankard in a single gulp, nearly choking on the beer as you drink it. The taste is bitter and foul and your eyes burn at the taste. Dena catches sight of your expression and lets out a laugh. <<elseif $prlg14b_9 is 3>> As you stare at the tankard, you find that your stomach coils uneasily at the idea of drinking it. Instead, you push the tankard away. Dena raises an eyebrow at you before shrugging, raising your tankard and gulping down its contents with a satisfied grin. <</if>> "It is good that you came tonight, $name," Dena says. "Most of the patrons here are from outside Cyre. I thought that it would be more comfortable for you." Dena does not have to explain what $Dhe means. It is true that most of the patrons of the tavern are unfamiliar faces. You see a myriad of people, though you do not see another Ishari face amongst them. Still, most seem to ignore your presence, a stark difference to the glares you often received in the hamlet. You nod at Dena, taken aback by the normality of everything. For once, you are not being insulted or whispered about and it feels liberating. [[Next.|prlg14b_11]]

Returning your attention onto Dena, you find that $Dhe is already watching you. The pale green eyes that you remember are now fixed on your face, taking in your appearance as you take in Dena's in return. Dena has grown up quite a bit since last summer and you wonder for a moment if $Dhe is thinking the same about you. "How has it been?" Dena asks, looking away. "You know, around here." You frown. "What do you mean?" Dena shrugs. "Are the others still cruel towards you?" The question startles you, an unexpected one for certain and one that settles between you with the weight of tension. You look down at your fingers and then, at the tankards. In the year that passed, not much has changed. You are still glowered at and Ahlf still keeps you from venturing out on your own. <<set $prlg14b_11 to 0>> [["Of course they are still cruel," you mutter.|prlg14b_12][$prlg14b_11 +=1]] [["Yes," you murmur. "I wish they were not, but nothing has changed."|prlg14b_12][$prlg14b_11 +=2]] [["What do you think?" you scoff.|prlg14b_12][$prlg14b_11 +=3]]

<<if $prlg14b_11 is 1>> "Of course they are still cruel," you mutter. There is a bitterness in your tone that catches Dena by surprise. For a moment, you can only scowl at the table, your eyes narrowing at the resentment that creeps up your throat, unwilling to be shaken away. Dena sighs, stealing your attention for a moment. With $Dhis eyes meeting yours, you find that they are filled with sorrow. <<elseif $prlg14b_11 is 2>> "Yes," you murmur. "I wish they were not, but nothing has changed." A hollow ache spreads through you, an empty feeling that leaves you nearly breathless from the sorrow that it brings. You stare at the table, running your finger over the worn wood as your mind ruminates over the treatment you've received from those in Salt Bay. Dena lets out a breath, drawing your attention to $Dhim. <<elseif $prlg14b_11 is 3>> "What do you think?" you scoff. Your voice comes out sharp and angry. Rage, like the heat of flames, curls around your throat and tightens around your lungs. It is hard to breathe past the fury that courses through you. Dena lets out a breath, a ragged sound that pulls your eyes to $Dhim. There is a strange look on $Dhis face, one that seems to shift between frustration and sorrow. <</if>> "I had hoped that maybe things would be different," Dena replies. "In the cities that I've travelled, it has become slightly better for Ishari people." You blink, surprised by Dena's admission. Your entire life has been spent in Salt Bay and the only outsiders that you have met have been merchants and travellers. Rarely have you had the chance to speak to them. As you stare at Dena, a hundred questions start to form in your mind about the places $Dhe has travelled and the people that $Dhe has met. <<set $prlg14b_12 to 0>> [["Tell me about the cities you've been to," you say.|prlg14b_13][$prlg14b_12 +=1]] [["Have you travelled to Ishari?" you ask.|prlg14b_13][$prlg14b_12 +=2]] [["Where's the farthest you've travelled?" you question.|prlg14b_13][$prlg14b_12 +=3]]

<<if $prlg14b_12 is 1>> "Tell me about the cities you've been to," you say. Dena grins wide. "There are so many, but my favourite has to be Gades. It is close to the capital in Cyre and sometimes, nobles will visit the merchant district." You wonder what it must be like in a lagre city where nobles walk the streets. Salt Bay is a small hamlet and the faces of those around you rarely change. You only know a handful of people that have left Salt Bay, with most preferring to remain in the fishing hamlet. <<elseif $prlg14b_12 is 2>> "Have you travelled to Ishari?" you ask. Dena blinks, as if surprised by your question. You wonder for a moment if Dena harbours the same, innate loathing of Ishari as other Cyre-born citizens. Lowering $Dhis voice, Dena leans closer to you, $Dhis pale eyes meeting yours. "I haven't," Dena whispers. "But my mentor has. She has traded with Ishari and brought back idols and spices to trade with regions outside Cyre." Your eyes widen, surprised that any would willingly trade with Ishari. Perhaps, you have been too isolated in Cyre, inexperienced about the regions that have not turned away those from Ishari. <<elseif $prlg14b_12 is 3>> "Where's the farthest you've travelled?" you question. Dena frowns in thought for a moment, $Dhis green eyes squinting. "I have been to the Southern Islands. It's where my mentor comes from. She has a whole trading company back there with a few ships under her name." You lean closer, curious about a place outside Cyre. "What is it like?" Dena laughs. "It is warm all the time and I swear that the fish there are nearly twice the size as they are in Cyre." It is difficult to think about a place far from Salt Bay, where it is sunny and seemingly without the same constraints that you have had to live with for most of your life. You are suddenly envious of Dena, wishing that your life was nearly as exciting. <</if>> "Have you ever thought of leaving Salt Bay?" Dena asks. The question takes you by surprise and you stare at Dena over the table. It is a difficult question and one that is not nearly as easy to answer as you first thought. Where would you go? Mama brought you to Salt Bay to escape the Blood Guard in Ishari. Could you return? Or would you choose to travel elsewhere? Dena seems to sense your confusion. Reaching out, $Dhe pats your hand. "Think about it, alright?" $Dhe asks. You stare at where your hands are joined, the heat of Dena's long fingers, warm against your wrist. <<set $prlg14b_12 to 0>> [["I will," you answer, gratefully.|prlg14b_14][$prlg14b_12+=1]] [["I... yes," you mumble, suddenly warm under Dena's touch.|prlg14b_14][$prlg14b_12 +=2]] [["Of course I will think about it," you answer. "Especially if it means spending more time with you."|prlg14b_14][$prlg14b_12 +=3]] [[You withdraw your hand, managing a nod over the strange feeling coursing through you.|prlg14b_14][$prlg14b_12 +=4]] [["I do not need your pity," you huff, snatching your hand away.|prlg14b_14][$prlg14b_12 +=5]]

<<if $prlg14b_12 is 1>> "I will," you answer, gratefully. Dena offers you a smile and you are taken aback by the sincerity in $Dhis expression. It is difficult to remember when last someone ever looked you in the way that Dena does. You wonder if this is what it must feel like to have a friend, someone who will accept you regardless of your Ishari heritage. <<elseif $prlg14b_12 is 2>> "I... yes," you mumble, suddenly warm under Dena's touch. Dena's eyes soften at the tremble in your voice and you look down, to where $Dhis fingers lie atop your wrist. Heat spreads over your cheeks and leaves you breathless, struggling to put a name to this unknown feeling. You swallow, meeting Dena's gaze and finding that $Dhe is smiling at you in a way that you have never been smiled at before. <<elseif $prlg14b_12 is 3>> "Of course I will think about it," you answer. "Especially if it means spending more time with you." The words leave your mouth as soon as you think them. Dena blinks, as if startled by them but after a moment, smiles at you in response. You realise then that it is the truth. The idea of leaving Salt Bay is a tempting one, especially if it meant that you got to see the rest of the world and spend more time with Dena. <<elseif $prlg14b_12 is 4>> You withdraw your hand, managing a nod over the strange feeling coursing through you. The feeling is odd and causes your stomach to twist uneasily with nervousness. Dena offers you a smile and you find that you are unable to meet $Dhis eyes over the table. Instead, you focus on the way that your heartbeat thuds loudly in your chest and the way your breathing comes out ragged. <<elseif $prlg14b_12 is 5>> "I do not need your pity," you huff, snatching your hand away. Dena frowns, but does not respond at the harshness in your voice. You do not need Dena's pity or $Dhis help to leave Salt Bay. Even if you tried to leave, there would be nowhere to go. You have no family apart from Ahlf and Mama, so leaving would mean being alone in a world you knew nothing about. <</if>> "Dena!" You jump, the loud voice breaking though the din of the tavern. Looking up, you find the same colourfully dressed woman from earlier, striding towards your table. She raises an eyebrow at you, suddenly noticing that Dena is not alone. "Rohesia," Dena greets, standing straight. "I was just having a drink with $name." Rohesia glances at you. "Ishari huh? I heard about you from the locals. Never thought I'd catch Dena with you though." Dena frowns. "I met $name a while ago when-" The woman cuts off Dena. "I don't care, Dena. It's time to leave." Dena's eyes widen. "What? I thought we had a few more days." "Change of plans," Rohesia answers. "A shipment hasn't come to the port so we need to head back. Say your goodbyes and meet out front. If I don't see you, I'm leaving you behind." Rohesia nods at you before she strides out of the tavern, leaving you alone with Dena once more. [[Next.|prlg14b_15]]

Dena glances at you, swallowing. "I suppose this is goodbye then," $Dhe sighs. You nod at Dena, unsure how to feel about the sudden departure. Dena pauses, glancing at your face, as if memorising your features. "I will see you soon," Dena murmurs. "When I travel back to Salt Bay, we'll see each other then." Standing, Dena pats your shoulder before $Dhe heads out of the tavern. You are left at the table, wondering if you ever will see Dena again. [[Next.|prlg14_2]]

As the night draws on, sleep still does not come. The horrors you have witnessed still linger in your mind. You think about Salt Bay and its destruction and the heat of the flames that reduced the hamlet into rubble. But it is the death of your father that dominates your thoughts. He was slain by Morden, in a bid to save you and Prince Irus. With the near darkness of the temple and the soft snores of Irus, you are finally free to feel without fear of being overheard. <<set $chp1_63a to 0>><<set $outside_temple to false>><<set $crown_temple to false>><<set $idol_temple to false>> [[You step out of the temple, for some fresh air.|chp1_63a_1][$chp1_63a +=1, $outside_temple to true]] [[You decide to visit Crown.|chp1_63a_2][$chp1_63a +=2, $crown_temple to true]] <<if $imteusidol is true>>[[You pull out the idol of Imteus and pray for peace.|chp1_63a_3][$chp1_63a +=3, $idol_temple to true]]<</if>><<if $gabusidol is true>>[[You pull out the idol of Gabus and pray for peace.|chp1_63a_3][$chp1_63a +=3, $idol_temple to true]]<</if>><<if $atsesidol is true>>[[You pull out the idol of Atses and pray for peace.|chp1_63a_3][$chp1_63a +=3, $idol_temple to true]]<</if>>

You pull out the idol from the hidden pocket inside your tunic and stare at it. Running a finger over the cool metal, you gaze into the face of <<if $imteusidol is true>>Imteus<<elseif $gabusidol is true>>Gabus<<else>>Atses<</if>>. All those years ago, you had not thought that you would only have an idol of an Ancient One as a reminder of what was lost. Seeing the idol now, it serves to... <<set $chp1_63a_3 to 0>> [[...ease your worries and fill you with peace.|chp1_63a_a][$chp1_63a_3 +=1]] [[...fill you with a sense of determination in facing what's to come.|chp1_63a_a][$chp1_63a_3 +=2]] [[...remind you of the importance of escaping the Blood Guard.|chp1_63a_a][$chp1_63a_3 +=3]] [[...leave you questioning whether the Ancient Ones even exist.|chp1_63a_a][$chp1_63a_3 +=4]]

You stand, careful not to rouse Prince Irus but a quick glance at him reveals that he still sleeps as you creep out of the temple. Stepping outside of the large temple, you are greeted by a cool breeze that brushes against your face. For a long moment, you simply stand at the threshold of the temple as you gaze across the thick trees around you. The journey as you fled has been a difficult one and has left you sore and tired. You think about the life you have left behind and the death of your father. Now that you have had more time to deal with the absence of Ahlf, you... <<set $chp1_63a_1 to 0>> [[...grow weak with grief, as tears spill down your cheeks.|chp1_63a_1_a][$chp1_63a_1 +=1]] [[...struggle to breathe, as the pain of losing your father becomes overwhelming.|chp1_63a_1_a][$chp1_63a_1 +=2]] [[...feel a sense of loss and confusion from losing the only constant person in your life.|chp1_63a_1_a][$chp1_63a_1 +=3]] [[...curl your fingers into your palms as rage consumes you over the Blood Guard's wrath in slaying your father.|chp1_63a_1_a][$chp1_63a_1 +=4]] [[...feel empty and numb, uncertain what to make of being alone now that Ahlf is dead.|chp1_63a_1_a][$chp1_63a_1 +=5]]

Your eyes drift towards the large stallion that occupies the corner of the room. Crown is large, even whilst he sits and look up from where you lie to gaze at him fully. The horse's ears prick and he turns towards you as if sensing your stare. Slowly, you stand, careful to avoid waking the sleeping prince as you approach Crown. The stallion snorts at your approach and you pause. Before meeting Prince Irus, you have never had the opportunity to travel by horseback. Being confined to Salt Bay has also kept you well away from the merchants and their horse-drawn caravans. Crown looks up at you, his dark eyes endless as your gazes lock. Crown shakes his mane, resting his head once more against the hard floor. Taking it as a sign to approach, you take a few steps closer until you stand before the beast. Crown turns towards you, his wet nose nuzzling against your arm. <<set $chp1_63a_2 to 0>> [[Stroke Crown's mane.|chp1_63a_2_a][$chp1_63a_2 +=1]] [[Sit down beside Crown.|chp1_63a_2_a][$chp1_63a_2 +=2]] [[Run your hand along Crown's side.|chp1_63a_2_a][$chp1_63a_2 +=3]]

<<if $chp1_63a_1 is 1>> The tears are hot as they brandish your cheeks. Your sobs come out in sharp gasps at first, your sorrow threatening to spew past your lips in a howl of pain. Your lips taste of salt and you bring your hands to wipe at the wetness against your face. It is almost too much to bear for a single person alone. The realisation that you are alone brings forth your wails. It is a low sound, interrupted by your hitched breathing and mournful cries. Your shoulders tremble and your knees grow weak under you weight. Leaning against the temple wall, you can only muffle your sobs with your hands until your head throbs with the weight of your grief. Slowly, your tears ease until there is nothing left to shed. Your eyes are swollen and your face is hot. You can only stare at the dark trees and feel the hardness of the wall against your back. You wait a moment, your breathing still shaky and your hands quivering as you compose yourself. <<elseif $chp1_63a_1 is 2>> You swallow a breath, but it is not nearly enough. Gasping, you lean forward until your hands are pressed against your thighs. You struggle to breath, nearly suffocated by the weight of your father's death. Trembling, you inhale sharply, the pain in your chest stabbing as your lungs constrict with the exhale that follows. Everything hurts and it is hard to know how to quieten your racing thoughts. Your heartbeat is fast, a thundering sound that threatens to overwhelm you. It rushes past your ears, leaving you trembling and breathless - a hopeless $gender, reduced into a grief-stricken fool. You struggle to breathe, to even pull in a full breath without the memory of Ahlf's death threatening to draw you into a pit of despair. Sinking to the floor, you lean back against the temple wall as you focus on breathing. In and out, until it no longer hurts to do so. Your eyes burn with unshed tears and your heartbeat slows until it is no longer erratic. You stare at the trees around you, suddenly shivering from the cold breeze. <<elseif $chp1_63a_1 is 3>> It is difficult to know how to cope with the loss of Ahlf. For a long time, he was the only person in your life that had seemed so steady in his presence. Your mother left you and the others in Salt Bay turned away at your sight, but Ahlf was always there. Now, as you stand outside the temple, you find that you are unmoored without a tether to keep you in place. You have never thought much about Ahlf's presence, taking him for granted in the years that passed. Without him by your side to caution you against the actions you have taken, it leaves you feeling more free and frightened than you have ever felt before. Your father's absence curls along your spine, until it is contricting your throat. It is hard to think beyond your father's actions, yet, you realise that you must. A breath escapes you, but you find that it does not rid you of the confusion left in the wake of Ahlf's death. You do not know how to manage without his aid and his quiet presence by your side. <<elseif $chp1_63a_1 is 4>> Fury fills you until your breathing is sharp and your skin grows hot. You pace outside the temple, your hands curled into fists. For a moment, your nails break your skin, the sharpness of the pain drawing your attention away from the rage that threatens to consume you entirely. You unfurl your fingers from your palms, staring at the indentations left by your nails. You think about the Blood Guard then, the way they so mercilessly tore through Salt Bay. The memory of Ahlf's death comes like a swirl of flames, the heat of your fury so hot that it scorches you with its ferocity. Tears of rage threaten to spill down your cheeks, thr frustration of being so helpless in the face of the Blood Guard enough to overwhelm you. How much more are you expected to endure? The Blood Guard forced you and Mama to flee Ishari and once more, they are threatening your life. You lean against the temple wall, focussing on the way the roughness of it presses into your back. <<elseif $chp1_63a_1 is 5>> Your loneliness has never felt more palpable until now. As you stand outside the temple, you feel a hollowness in your chest that does not ease even when you swallow a deep breath. Without Ahlf, you have been left alone, with only an exiled prince for company. Your family have been all but erased, leaving you unmoored from those around you. You know that after all the years you spent with your father, you should be feeling something. But it is as if you have been swallowed into a pit, with no sense of direction. All that is left behind is a numbness that has crept up into the place where your grief should be. It is hard to feel, when you are left so distant from your emotions, too exhausted to think or feel. Leaning against the temple wall, you let the coldness of the night brush over you. For a moment, it is enough to simply breathe and feel with your physical senses rather than your emotional ones. <</if>> Now drained, you look up at the sky, knowing that there is no going back to your old life. You must continue on, even if it means travelling with Prince Irus to a kingdom you know nothing about. Perhaps, there is a reason for your fate, but whatever it is, you are left unsure of it. [[Next.|chp1_63_landing]]

You shiver, the night's air chilly in the temple and wonder what it must have looked like when it was filled with worshippers. It is hard to believe that it has been left untouched for years and you can only hope that the Blood Guard do not find you here. [[Go to sleep.|chp1_64]] <<if $outside_temple is false>> [[Step outside to get some fresh air.|chp1_63a_1][$outside_temple to true]]<</if>> <<if $crown_temple is false>> [[Approach Crown in the corner of the room.|chp1_63a_2][$crown_temple to true]]<</if>> <<if $idol_temple is false>> <<if $imteusidol is true>>[[Pull out the idol of Imteus and pray for peace.|chp1_63a_3][$idol_temple to true]]<</if>> <<if $gabusidol is true>>[[Pull out the idol of Gabus and pray for peace.|chp1_63a_3][$idol_temple to true]]<</if>> <<if $atsesidol is true>>[[Pull out the idol of Atses and pray for peace.|chp1_63a_3][$idol_temple to true]]<</if>><</if>>

<<if $chp1_63a_2 is 1>> You reach out tentatively at first, but when Crown only snorts at your hand, you let your fingers run through his thick mane. His mane is untangled, though you suspect it is more from Prince Irus' brushing earlier. Crown lets out a breath and you soon find yourself kneeling beside him in the darkness of the room. Behind you, the only sounds come from Prince Irus' deep breathing. You find that you are content for a while, feeling the soft texture of Crown's mane against your hands. It has been a long few days and you will gladly take comfort from a horse who has accepted you far more easily than those in Salt Bay ever had. <<elseif $chp1_63a_2 is 2>> Moving to sit beside Crown, you nearly jump when the horse brings his nose to sniff at your head. His breath is wet and despite the tickling sensation that spreads down your neck, you find your lips pulling into a smile. How long has it been since you last smiled this freely? The thought lodges itself in your mind as you lean against Crown. The stallion seems unbothered by your presence, his warmth and steadiness almost enough to soothe the nerves that have been plaguing you. You run your hand over his side, eliciting a soft breath from Crown before he returns to dozing beside you. <<elseif $chp1_63a_2 is 3>> Running your palm over Crown's side, you feel the smoothness of his hair under your skin. He is warm too and lets out a soft nicker against your touch. Crown is a calming presence, one that softens the loudness of your thoughts and you kneel beside him. Continuing to run your hand over Crown's flank, you turn to regard the rest of the room. Prince Irus still sleeps, his breathing even and the fire has turned dim with only the soft flames to keep you warm. Crown nuzzles your hand when you stop running it along his side and you let out a breathless laugh. It seems that Crown is nearly as spoilt as his owner. <</if>> Finally calm, you find yourself enjoying the quietness of the room and the warmth from Crown. It has left you able to think more clearly and for a moment, you do not feel the weight of the past few days. But Crown can only offer you a reprieve for a moment and as you move away from the stallion, your thoughts return to everything that has happened. [[Next.|chp1_63_landing]]

<<if $chp1_63a_3 is 1>> The longer you gaze at <<if $imteusidol is true>>Imteus<<elseif $gabusidol is true>>Gabus<<else>>Atses<</if>>, the more at ease you become. Perhaps it is because you are in the Temple of Ehulla or perhaps it is simply because the idol reminds you of a time when Salt Bay had not been destroyed and your father was still alive, but the sight of the idol brings a sense of calm that washes over you and slows your breathing. <<elseif $chp1_63a_3 is 2>> Staring at <<if $imteusidol is true>>Imteus<<elseif $gabusidol is true>>Gabus<<else>>Atses<</if>>, you find your fingers curling tightly around the coolness of the idol. You are filled with a sudden will to continue on, regardless of the hardships that you had to endure and nothing will stop you from doing what you must in order to survive. <<elseif $chp1_63a_3 is 3>> The idol of <<if $imteusidol is true>>Imteus<<elseif $gabusidol is true>>Gabus<<else>>Atses<</if>> only reminds you of the horrors of what the Blood Guard can accomplish. They have slain many Ishari people and now, they have killed the people in Salt Bay. You know that if you give up now, you too be cut down like your father. No, you must escape them, for Mama did not bring you to Salt Bay simply to give up. <<elseif $chp1_63a_3 is 4>> Your lips pull into a frown as you stare at the idol of <<if $imteusidol is true>>Imteus<<elseif $gabusidol is true>>Gabus<<else>>Atses<</if>>. How can there be any deities who would allow the merciless slaughter of innocent people by those like the Blood Guard? You wonder if everything you have been told about the gods is merely lies - and if they exist, why have they not stopped the bloodshed and despair that has been caused? The longer you stare at the idol, the harder it becomes not to question their existence and you find your sullen mood returning. <</if>> Slipping the idol back into your tunic, you let your eyes take in the tall ceiling of the temple from where you sit. It has been cast in darkness and the silence is nearly deafening. You let out a long breath, casting a glance at the sleeping prince and then, his horse. How much longer will you have to travel like this, fearing for your lives? [[Next.|chp1_63_landing]]

"I think I'd like to see the harbour," you reply. "A good choice," Sir Oren answers. "Aspal has one of the largest ports in Vinia and there are often many markets set up there." Prince Irus shrugs in response but seems happy enough to follow along as Sir Oren leads you through the wide streets. Aspal is vibrant in the mid-morning sunlight with many of its residents already bustling through the streets. You take your time to enjoy the walk, one where you are free from judgment for your Ishari heritage. Soon, the scent of salt and the familiar crash of waves reach you. It is almost comforting as you approach the harbour. For most of your childhood, you spent your days with Ahlf and the shouts of fishmongers haggling with customers bring back a rush of memories of your father. The sight of wide, wooden barges steal your attention. They are nothing like the small vessels that would dock at Salt Bay. Sir Oren catches your stare and offers you a smile. "Impressive, I know," he remarks. "Come, let me show you the rest of the harbour." [[Next.|chp2_55b_1]]

<<set $location to "The Harbour, Aspal.">>The harbour is chaotic, with many ships which have been docked and others that seem ready to depart. Crates of fish, much larger than you have ever seen before, are hefted through the crowded paths and you can only stare after the fishermen who laugh amicably around each other. You stare at them, suddenly afflicted with the memories of Ahlf. <<set $chp2_harbour_choice to 0>> You look up and see... <<if $irusRel gte 55>> [[...Prince Irus approaching you.|chp2_55b_1_a][$chp2_harbour_choice +=1]]<</if>> <<if $orenRel gte 0>> [[...Sir Oren approaching you.|chp2_55b_1_a][$chp2_harbour_choice +=2]]<</if>>

<<if $chp2_55b_1 is 1>> "The fishermen just remind me of my father," you reply. "It is still hard to come to terms with his death." Prince Irus' eyes widen at your admission, before a sorrowful look flashes through his face. He glances towards the fishermen for a moment before looking back towards you. "I am sorry for everything that has happened, $name," he breathes. "I promise you that his sacrifice will not have been in vain." You nod, but the words do not soothe the hollow ache in your chest. The knowledge that you will never see your father going out to sea or gutting fish is something you did not think would ever happen. You can only hope that time will soothe the pain of his absence. <<elseif $chp2_55b_1 is 2>> "It is nothing," you say, forcing a smile to your face. Your smile hurts and by the way Prince Irus frowns at you, you begin to doubt your success in feigning your happiness. Unable to keep up the expression for much longer, you avert your gaze and stare the fishermen for a moment longer. "It is alright," Prince Irus remarks. "I know that it takes some time to deal with the loss of a parent." You turn to him, surprised by his words. "How have you dealt with it?" Prince Irus lets out a laugh, but there is no mirth in the sound. "Truthfully? I have not allowed myself to confront my father's death. I have not had much time to do so and I... I do not think that I am ready." You nod, a strange understanding passing between you. It is true that neither you nor Prince Irus have had much time to deal with the loss of your fathers and you wonder if you will ever get that chance. <<elseif $chp2_55b_1 is 3>> "I'm fine," you mutter, irritated by his concern. Prince Irus' eyebrows furrow at your words and he turns away, his lips pursing into a frown. You do not want his concern nor do you wish to share your thoughts with him. Your father is dead and despite what has happened, you have not had much time to cope with his loss. "I was only trying to help," Prince Irus says, after a moment. You narrow your eyes. "Not everyone wants help." "There is nothing wrong in receiving it," Prince Irus retorts. "But I see that it was unwarranted." He turns away and strides ahead of you. <<elseif $chp2_55b_1 is 4>> You nod, unable to voice your feelings. It is difficult to know the right words to speak your thoughts, after all, how do you begin to comprehend the horrors that have befallen you? Your father was slain by the Blood Guard and in that time you were meant to mourn him, you were forced to flee with Prince Irus. "It is hard," Prince Irus states, looking across the harbour. "To see such normalcy around us when we have had to deal with far worse." "How do you manage?" you ask. Prince Irus sighs, "I do not know. Perhaps I am still in denial of everything that has happened. It has only been a few weeks, $name. Have you managed to confront it?" His question catches you off-guard. Of course you have not confronted everything that has happened and you begin to wonder if you ever will. No person was ever made to deal with what you had to go through, yet, you still stand here and push forward. You cannot be certain if it is a sign of your resilience or a sign that the worst is still to come. <<elseif $chp2_55b_1 is 5>> "I do not know," you mumble. Your voice comes out soft and you realise that you speak the truth. It is difficult to know your feelings. Much has happened in the time that your father died and you fleeing from Salt Bay and you have had little time to process the horrors that you have seen. "I think I understand," Prince Irus replies. You glance at him, surprised by his words. In your time together, he has not voiced his feelings about what has happened. Now, as you look at his face and take in the way his lips pull into a frown, you come to realise that he has had as much of a difficult time as you have. "I... do you ever think we will find peace?" you question. Prince Irus shrugs. "I hope that we do." He speaks no more and you both lapse into silence. Perhaps you will eventually find the peace that you have never seemed to have, or perhaps, it is only foolish optimism. You cannot be certain. <<elseif $chp2_55b_1 is 6>> "The fishermen remind me of my father," you murmur. "He... he did not make it out of Salt Bay." Sir Oren's face falls at your words and he reaches out as if to touch you, but stops himself. A empathetic look flickers through his eyes and he turns to gaze at the fishermen that turned your thoughts to Ahlf. "Dealing with loss is not an easy thing," Sir Oren murmurs. "It weighs heavily on you, sometimes, for years." You swallow, suddenly reminded of the fact that you are now alone. With Ahlf gone, there is no one else left but you. It is a daunting thought and your fingers curl into the fabric of your tunic. "I am sorry for your father's passing," Sir Oren breathes. "I know that is must be difficult for you. If you ever need anything, please know that I am always here." You are surprised by Sir Oren's offer, perhaps, more so by the sincerity in his tone. A small smile of appreciation finds its way onto your lips. Perhaps you are not so alone after all. <<elseif $chp2_55b_1 is 7>> "I am alright," you answer, not wanting to burden Sir Oren. The Captain's sincerity seems to bleed out of him, his concern warm and gentle. But burdening him with your problems and the turmoil you feel only serves to drive a wedge of guilt through you. You find that you are unwilling to burden Sir Oren with what you feel. He does not deserve to be weighted down by the pain you have suffered. "You know, in the early days of my training, I too had a hard time dealing with everything," he explains. "I could not tell my family the difficulties I faced for fear that they might tell me to come home." "They did not want you to join?" you ask. Sir Oren shakes his head. "They are farmers, $name. Despite the business from of our friends and family, we have many mouths to feed at home and I knew that if I became a guard, I could help them." "So what did you do?" you ask. "I kept my feelings to myself until one day, it just came out," he admits. "I... there was a sparring match and I do not know what happened, only that when I looked down, my partner was bloodied and crying for mercy." Sir Oren stares at his hands with a frown, as if the memory brings him great distress. "You should not keep things in, $name," he says. "It can change you into something that you are not." <<elseif $chp2_55b_1 is 8>> "I do not need your concern," you snap. Sir Oren seems surprised by the vehemence in your tone and turns away to look forward. You frown, irritated by his worry. Perhaps you must seem pitiful to him because he glances at you with a solemn expression. Your lips pull into a deeper scowl and Sir Oren lets out a breath. "I did not mean to offend you, $name," he replies. "I was only trying to help." "Just because you want to help someone, it does not mean that you should," you huff. "I never asked for your help or your concern." Your ire must show, because Sir Oren relents. He casts you another glance before moving a few paces ahead of you. <<elseif $chp2_55b_1 is 9>> "I do not know," you sigh. "It has been a lot to cope with in the past week." Sir Oren nods in response, offering you a soft smile. "It must have been difficult for you." You shrug. "I suppose so." Sir Oren and you walk on for a while longer, a silence settling between the both of you. After a moment, Sir Oren turns his hazel eyes onto you once more. "I think you are incredibly courageous," he remarkes. "You have been through so much and yet, you still endure. Not many could say the same." His words are sincere and there is a warmth in his tone that takes you by surprise. You gaze at him, his eyes locking with yours and you think you see a flicker of admiration in them. "I... thank you," you murmur. "If there is ever anything you want to talk about, know that I am here, $name," he replies. <<elseif $chp2_55b_1 is 10>> You shake your head, unable to speak aloud your thoughts. How do you put your feelings into words that would make sense? In the time that your father died and you were forced to flee, there has been little time to process your thoughts about everything. Even now, with Sir Oren beside you and the soft crash of the waves, you can barely think. "It takes time," Sir Oren murmurs. You turn to regard him, your eyebrows furrowed. Sir Oren smiles at your expression before he continues. "You have been through a lot, $name," he explains. "Dealing with what you have endured will not be an easy task, but know that I believe you have the strength to push past this." "How can you be so certain?" you ask. "What if that never happens?" Sir Oren lets out a breath. "Some of the guards, the older ones who fought civil wars, often speak of the horrors they faced in battle. Some are still haunted by their past. They learn to deal with it and some even move past it." "I am not a trained guard," you say. "No," Sir Oren agrees. He turns to look at you. "But you have the heart of one and that is what will get you through this." <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_55b_3]]

As you continue walking farther, you come to the central section of the harbour. It is noisier here, with sailors and merchants boarding ships and others who haul huge crates into nearby buildings. The air is sticky with salt and you taste it on your drying lips. Sir Oren turns to face you and Prince Irus. "This is main part of the harbour," Sir Oren explains. "Many of the traders from other regions will bring their wares here and they are stored in the main storage buildings." You take in the different types of people around you. There are those who are Ishari and others that remind you of the sailors and traders from Cyre. But there are also people who you do not recognise and you watch them, curious about where they have sailed from. "It is still early, so we can peruse the merchant's wares if you wish," Sir Oren says. Prince Irus nods. "It sounds good." [[Next.|chp2_55b_merchant]]

"I'd like to browse the merchant's wares," you say. Sir Oren nods and leads you both down a narrow path through the harbour. The path took you farther from the sight of the ocean and towards a wide stretch that was filled with tables and stalls. At one end, the traders had laid out their wares; at the other stood a group of merchants speaking excitedly in hushed voices about a new batch of goods. Most were men, but there was a young woman among them as well and she smiled when she saw Sir Oren. "Ore," she calls, waving excitedly. "Have you brought me new customers?" Sir Oren turned towards the woman and a broad smile spread across his face. The woman's eyes moved towards you, before settling on Prince Irus. As she gazed at him you noticed a flicker of appreciation in her eyes.<<if $irusRom gt 5>> You could not help but glance at Prince Irus, curious if he too was taking in her appearance as well.<<else>> You wonder if Prince Irus noticed that he had managed to find a new admirer.<</if>> "Romenta," Sir Oren greets, leading you and Prince Irus towards her stall. "How have you been?" The woman, Romenta smiles. "You know how it is on the sea. Trading in the south has been good." Her pale eyes flash towards Prince Irus. "And who are your friends?" "This is His Highness, Prince Irus and $name," Sir Oren explains. "Guests of Her Majesty." Romenta smiles at the both of you, though her eyes do not stray from Prince Irus for long. "Why do you not come inside? It would be improper to have guests standing outside. Come, you will want to take a look at what I have for sale." [[Next.|chp2_55b_merchant_1]]

Romenta leads you past the the stalls and towards a stone building that overlooks the rest of the harbour. Inside, you are surprised to find shelves filled with goods, from beads to cloths and fine silks. If Romenta is a trader, it is evident by the display that she is quite successful in her deals. "Take a look around," Romenta says. "Come, Your Highness, let me show you our finest products." You glance at Prince Irus, who is already being tugged towards one side of the room. Sir Oren seems content in standing where he is, surveiling the rest of the room. <<set $irus_merchant to false>> [[You choose to remain with Sir Oren.|chp2_merchant_oren]] [[You decide to accompany Prince Irus and Romenta.|chp2_merchant_irus][$irus_merchant to true]]

As you watch Prince Irus disappear with Romenta, you turn your attention onto Sir Oren. He stands tall, his embellished uniform gleaming under the strips of sunlight that filters through the windows. He catches sight of your stare and offers you a small smile. "How have you found your stay so far?" he asks. <<set $chp2_merchant_oren to 0>> [["It has been different to what I am used to," you answer. "But I have been enjoying it greatly."|chp2_merchant_oren_1][$chp2_merchant_oren +=1, $orenRel +=3]] [[♡"I have enjoyed it greatly," you murmur, thinking about the time you got to spend with Sir Oren.|chp2_merchant_oren_1][$chp2_merchant_oren +=2, $orenRel +=3, $orenRom +=3, $shy_oren +=5]] [[♡"It has been quite pleasurable, though spending time with you has proven to be far more enjoyable," you respond.|chp2_merchant_oren_1][$chp2_merchant_oren +=3, $orenRel +=3, $orenRom +=3, $bold_oren +=5]] [["It has been fine," you answer with a shrug.|chp2_merchant_oren_1][$chp2_merchant_oren +=4, $orenRel +=3]] [["It could be better," you mutter.|chp2_merchant_oren_1][$chp2_merchant_oren +=5]]

As Romenta threads her arm through the crook of Prince Irus' elbow, you turn to follow after them. Romenta raises an eyebrow at you, but refrains from speaking against you following after them. Gazing at Romenta, you feel... <<set $chp2_merchant_irus to 0>> [[...confused by her reaction to you.|chp2_merchant_irus_1][$chp2_merchant_irus +=1]] [[...a swell of jealousy at the idea of Romenta holding Prince Irus so closely.|chp2_merchant_irus_1][$chp2_merchant_irus +=2]] [[...annoyance that Romenta thinks that she could ever charm Prince Irus.|chp2_merchant_irus_1][$chp2_merchant_irus +=3]] [[...unbothered by her reaction to you, for you do not seek Prince Irus' affections.|chp2_merchant_irus_1][$chp2_merchant_irus +=4]] [[...irritated that Romenta is treating you with such disregard.|chp2_merchant_irus_1][$chp2_merchant_irus +=5]]

<<if $chp2_merchant_oren is 1>> "It has been different to what I am used to," you answer. "But I have been enjoying it greatly." Sir Oren's lips pull into a wide smile. There is a genuine warmth in his expression, as if he truly cared about your well-being. It is strange to think that despite having met Sir Oren recently that he still treats you as warmly as though you have been great friends. "It is good to hear that, $name," Sir Oren replies. "I know that everything must be new for you, but know that no matter what may happen, you will be safe here." His words comfort you and eases the nagging worry of having to flee once more. Perhaps, if Prince Irus is able to gain enough knowledge from the rest of the city, he will manage to sway the councillors in his favour. <<elseif $chp2_merchant_oren is 2>> "I have enjoyed it greatly," you murmur, thinking about the time you got to spend with Sir Oren. Your voice comes out soft, almost muted as you look at Sir Oren. His hazel eyes flicker with some unspoken emotion, but whatever it is, it vanishes as quickly as it appeared. Sir Oren smiles kindly at you and you hear the thundering sound of your heartbeat bneath your chest. You enjoy looking at him and the warmth in his gaze. Sir Oren reaches out, patting your shoulder. His palm is large and the warmth of his skin presses against the sleeve of your tunic. You cannot breathe and you wonder if he knows the type of reaction he elicits from you simply from being this close. "It is good then," Sir Oren replies. "I would hate to see you not enjoying your stay." You nod, unable to form a response. Sir Oren draws his hand back and you let out a breath that you did not know you had been holding. Yes, you think. You have enjoyed your time here greatly. <<elseif $chp2_merchant_oren is 3>> "It has been quite pleasurable, though spending time with you has proven to be far more enjoyable," you respond. The insinuation of your tone seems to catch Sir Oren off-guard. He splutters, his cheeks warming under your gaze. The sight of him so flustered draws a wide smirk to your lips. You cannot help but draw closer to him. He smells faintly of cloves and something deeper. "That is... I am-" Sir Oren stammers then takes a step back. "I am glad to have made you feel welcome." "Oh? But Captain, you have done more than just make me feel welcome," you purr. Sir Oren's face is flushed red and he can barely meet your gaze. Nodding at you, he turns away, staring at the wares displayed in the room. You let out a breath, not wanting to goad him any longer for fear that he might just flee from your presence. <<elseif $chp2_merchant_oren is 4>> "It has been fine," you answer with a shrug. Sir Oren nods at you, smiling. "It is good to know." You take in the rest of the room, the expensive looking wares and the scent of spices that lingers in the air. For a while, you stand there beside Sir Oren in comfortable silence. There is nothing that is spoken between you, though the silence is not uncomfortable. Sir Oren's presence is an easy one, you think, glancing at him again. He must sense your stare because he turns to meet your gaze. "I know that your life in Cyre must have been difficult, but know that you are always welcome to explore the city here," Sir Oren explains. "No one will turn you away, $name." "Thank you," you murmur, warmed by the sincerity in his voice. <<elseif $chp2_merchant_oren is 5>> "It could be better," you mutter. Sir Oren's eyebrows furrow at your curt tone. Had he expected you to speak highly of Aspal and its people? You almost roll your eyes at that. You were not naive enough to believe that just because you were in Vinia, you were safe from harm. Certainly, being Queen Elora's guest that was accompanied by the Royal Vinian Guard must have had some influence on the way the rest of the populace treated you here. "I am sorry to hear that," Sir Oren murmurs. "Is there something that I can do?" You wave off his words, annoyed by the conversation and wanting nothing to do with him. Turning away, you pointedly stare at the wares displayed in the shop around you, not wanting to speak any longer. <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_merchant_oren_2]]

<<if $irus_merchant is false>>As you begin to wonder if Romenta has stolen Prince Irus away, you notice his reappearance. There is a frown on Romenta's face and the obvious admiration she had for Prince Irus earlier is gone. You wonder what could have happened in the time that they were away, but you do not get a chance to ask.<<else>><</if>> The door to the room is pushed open and you catch sight of Nerena. She glances in your direction before she approaches Sir Oren and whispers too low for you to hear. Sir Oren tenses, before he turns to you and Prince Irus. "I am afraid that I must leave you both," he explains. "Nerena will escort you in my stead." You glance at Nerena, finding her pale, green eyes on you already. She wears twisted expression, as if pained. "It will be my honour to escort Your Highness and you, $name." From the tone of her voice, it is clear that Nerena would rather be doing anything else. You... <<set $chp2_55a_1g to 0>> [[...smile in response, hoping for a pleasant day with Nerena and Prince Irus.|chp2_55a_1h][$chp2_55a_1g +=1, $nerenaRel +=5]] [[...nod in response, hoping for a civil exchange with Nerena as she escorts you through Aspal.|chp2_55a_1h][$chp2_55a_1g +=2, $nerenaRel +=5]] [[...shrug in response, unbothered at who escorts you through Aspal.|chp2_55a_1h][$chp2_55a_1g +=3]] [[...frown in response, wishing that Sir Oren did not have to leave you with Nerena.|chp2_55a_1h][$chp2_55a_1g +=4, $nerenaRel -=5]] [[...scowl in response, annoyed that you're stuck with Nerena.|chp2_55a_1h][$chp2_55a_1g +=5, $nerenaRel -=5]]

As you stand in the middle of the room, curiosity draws you farther towards the wares before you. You spot soft materials with golden embroidery and glass beads that adorn bracelets and bangles. Stepping towards a tall shelf, you come across a display of tomes, though none of them look nearly as new as the rest of the wares around you. "Those are history books," Sir Oren explains. You startle, surprised by his sudden presence at your side. He chuckles slightly, a pink hue of embarrassment making its way onto his cheeks. "My apologies, I did not mean to startle you," he apologises. Tracing the spines of the books, he continues. "Romenta often brings back tomes of great knowledge." You peer closer at the tomes. Some are bound in leather, while others are thick pages, sewn together with thread. <<set $chp2_bookchoice to 0>> [[You pull out a book about the rise and fall of various leaders in the different kingdoms.|chp2_merchant_oren3][$chp2_bookchoice +=1]] [[You find a book about the religious practices throughout the ages.|chp2_merchant_oren3][$chp2_bookchoice +=2]] [[You spot a book about historic warfare throughout the kingdoms.|chp2_merchant_oren3][$chp2_bookchoice +=3]]

As you grip the book in your hand, Sir Oren peers over your shoulder with an impressed look. "A good choice," he comments. "You may gain insight on how to help Prince Irus with that." You glance at the price and nearly balk. While you were given a small pouch of coins from the palace, it is not nearly enough to cover the cost of the tome. You begin to place it back on the shelf, but Sir Oren stops you with his hand. "Why are you returning it?" he asks. "It is far too expensive," you explain. "Besides, it is only a book." <<if $orenRel gte 50>><<set $chp2_book to true>> Frowning, Sir Oren reaches out and takes hold of the book from the shelf. "Do not worry about that, $name. I shall get it for you as a gift." Your eyes widen. "You do not need to-" "I insist," Sir Oren replies. "Wait here." He moves towards one of the workers in the store before returning with the tome, wrapped in brown paper. It has been fastened with a thine piece of twine and he hands it to you with a broad smile. "Here, $name," Sir Oren says. "Think of it as a gift between friends." You take the wrapped book with wide eyes. "I... thank you." <<else>>Sir Oren glances at the book and nods at you. "You are quite right, there are better uses for your coin." You let out a breath and turn away from the ancient tomes.<</if>> [[Next.|chp2_merchant_landing]]

<<if $chp2_merchant_irus is 1>> Confusion causes you to frown at the way Romenta seems to be put off by your presence. You would have thought that it had something with your Ishari heritage, but the amount of Ishari styled goods in her store, you know that it is not the case. She tugs closer at Prince Irus and you cannot help but stare at the way she smiles up at him. Glancing at Prince Irus, you muse that he is either immune to her fluttering eyelashes or he simply does not notice the way Romenta smiles at him. <<elseif $chp2_merchant_irus is 2>> A spike of jealousy courses through you at the sight of Prince Irus and Romenta walking side-by-side. It curls tightly in your gut and spreads out until it squeezes your throat. You do not like the feeling, this jealousy at the thought of Prince Irus being so comfortable with another person. Yet, the longer you stare at their linked arms, the more the feeling grows. <<elseif $chp2_merchant_irus is 3>> Your lips twist into a scowl as you stare at where Romenta's elbow rests against Prince Irus'. Who does she think she is fooling? You almost reach out to rip her arm from Prince Irus' but you manage to stop yourself in time. After all, it would do you no good to start challenging strangers for Prince Irus' affections. Still, you find your fingers curling into fists as you stare at them. <<elseif $chp2_merchant_irus is 4>> It is strange to see Romenta so possessive over Prince Irus. Perhaps she simply seeks his gold or perhaps she mistakes your relationship with him for something else. You almost feel a sliver of pity for Prince Irus as he continues to ignore Romenta's wide smile and flushed cheeks. Maybe he is immune to such fawning, you think. After all, he can surely not be ingorant of the way Romenta is staring at him. <<elseif $chp2_merchant_irus is 5>> Your irritation at being treated as an unwanted customer grates your nerves. Romenta may be a wealthy trader, but that gives her no right to treat you as if you do not exist. The longer you stare at her fawning over Prince Irus, the more annoyed you become. Grinding your teeth, you manage to keep your unspoken thoughts from bursting out. <</if>> Romenta eventually leads Prince Irus and you into a small room. It is darker here, but you hear the sound of voices. Curious, you look around and find a few sailors and what appears to be traders sitting around wooden crates. They do not pay you much attention, for their focus seems to be on the dice games they play. "What is this?" you ask. Romenta glances at you, still at Prince Irus' side. "A gambling den, of course. I thought perhaps His Highness would not mind a friendly wager." Prince Irus' blue eyes are alight with eagerness, something you have not seen in a while. "And what would the wager be?" Prince Irus asks. Romenta smirks. "If I win, I only ask that you come back to visit me." "And if you lose?" he asks. Romenta shrugs. "You can choose anything from my wares to keep as a prize. So what say you, would you like to play?" Prince Irus nods and Romenta lets out a pleased laugh. You frown at her, wondering if this is a ploy to impress Prince Irus. [[Next.|chp2_merchant_irus_2]]

Soon, you are all seated around a crate. Romenta has finally left Prince Irus' side, though you note that her stool is positioned far closer to Prince Irus' than it is to yours. She draws two wooden dice from a bowl and begins explaining the rules to you and Prince Irus. Each side of the dice have notches depicting a different value. "A Game of Chances is all based on luck," Romenta says. "A player must roll the dice and if the player with the most points at the end of three rounds will win." "Seems simple enough," Prince Irus replies. He glances at you. "What do you think, $name?" You shrug, still trying to understand Romenta's true motives. Romenta seems to sense your thoughts and flashes you a wide smile. "Why do you not start first?" she suggests, handing you the dice. <<set $chp2_dice to 0>> [[You play to win.|chp2_merchant_irus_3][$chp2_dice +=1]] [[You play for fun.|chp2_merchant_irus_3][$chp2_dice +=2]] [[You play, but you keep your focus on Romenta.|chp2_merchant_irus_3][$chp2_dice +=3]]

<<if $chp2_dice is 1>> You take the dice and roll it in your palms. The wooden grooves are rough under your skin and after a moment, you cast it against the crate. You watch at the dice roll, landing on a six and a two. "Eight," Romenta remarks. "Not bad, $name, but you will have to see if it is enough to win." Prince Irus goes next and seems to fare better than you with a nine and then, Romenta casts the dice. To your suprise, you find that both of her dice land on six, making her the winner of the first round. The second round goes a bit better for you and you manage a ten, while Prince Irus gets a twelve. Romenta struggles to hold back her displeasure when she rolls a four. The final round will determine the winner. With Prince Irus in the lead, he could easily win the game. As you each cast the dice, you catch Romenta scowling. Perhaps she is unused to losing? It does not take long for Prince Irus to be declared the winner. Romenta casts him a sour look, but it vanishes when he turns to face her. "I suppose you have won," she says. "Very well, choose whatever you want from my wares." <<elseif $chp2_dice is 2>> You pick up the dice and roll it around in your palms, casting it across the surface of the crate without much care as to what it lands on. To your suprise, you find that both dice land on six, giving you a total score of twelve points. Romenta seems just as taken aback by score. "You have managed to get a twelve," Romenta murmurs. "I... congratulations." Prince Irus goes next and manages to score a nine and then, Romenta follows. She lands a twelve as well, but her smile seems tight considering that the both of you are tied. The second round leaves Romenta in the lead, landing on eight and you with five. Prince Irus manages to score a ten. Romenta is grinning widely as you play the final round and you wonder if she is already planning how to best spend her time with Prince Irus when she wins. You roll the dice, landing on five with Prince Irus scoring a twelve. He grins widely. Romenta's eyes narrow in determination as she casts the dice against the crate. You follow its movements and almost sag in relief when they land on three and one. Prince Irus has won. "I... that is... beginner's luck," Romenta says, her smile strained. "Well, I am nothing but honourable. Go on then, Your Highness. Choose your prize." <<elseif $chp2_dice is 3>> You accept the dice before rolling it in your palms. The rough grooves scratch at your palms and you begin to notice the subtle difference in the weight of the dice. Some sides seem far lighter than the others. To test your theory, you cast the dice across the crate and watch as the heavier sides pull at the dice. They land on one and two, giving you a score of three. "Not the best score," Romenta comments, smiling at you. Prince Irus goes next and manages to score a nine and then, Romenta casts the dice. Both lands on six, giving her a score of twelve. Your eyes narrow, as your suspicions are confirmed. Romenta is cheating. "You are cheating," you accuse. Romenta's eyes widen, but she quickly masks her surprise. "I am not cheating. I know that it is not easy to lose-" "The dice is weighted differently on one side," you interrupt. Prince Irus' eyebrows raise as he reaches out and inspects the dice. After a moment, he frowns. "$name is right. The dice are weighted differently." Perhaps realising that she is caught, Romenta lets out a breath. "Very well, I will not argue the point with you both. I forfeit. Go on, choose a prize." <</if>> [[Next.|chp2_merchant_irus_4]]

Prince Irus begins to browse through the cases on display, before he spies an elaborate gold ring. You move to gaze at it, the golden metal engraved with elaborate patterns that resemble a spirals and stars. Romenta glances at it with admiration. "A ring from the Southern Islands," she explains. "It is said to be have belonged to one of the first scholars." <<if $irusRel gte 55>><<set $chp2_irus_ring to true>> She pulls it out and hands it to Prince Irus. He turns it over in his hands, gazing at the gold ring in admiration. A moment passes before he turns to look at you. "Here," he says, passing the ring to you. "A small offer of thanks for your aid, $name." You stare at the ring, surprised by Prince Irus' offer. "I... thank you." <<else>> She pulls it out and hands it to Prince Irus. He turns it over in his hands, gazing at the gold ring in admiration. A moment passes before he slips it over his finger with a satisfied smile. "Perfect," he remarks.<</if>> [[Next.|chp2_merchant_landing]]

As you step inside the palace, you let out a tired breath. The palace hallways are relatively empty and for a moment, you find that you have a few hours to yourself. During your stay in the palace, you have discovered its many chambers, some open to the public and others, kept away from guests like you and Prince Irus. What is notable is that the palace has many chambers for worship and though you have not visited them, you have passed them enough to know of their existence. With the rest of the attendants and Queen Elora busy with planning the banquet, you have time to do as you please. <<set $chp3_inter to 0>> [[Visit a shrine dedicated to the Ancient Ones.|chp3_24_a1][$chp3_inter +=1]] [[You head towards the stables to visit Crown.|chp3_24_a2][$chp3_inter +=1]] [[You return to your chamber.|chp3_24_a3][$chp3_inter +=1]]

The shrine dedicated to the Ancient Ones is situated at the lower levels of the palace. Stepping into the wide chamber, your eyes take in the sight before you. It is dim, despite the lit braziers and the air is thick with incense. At the far side of the room sits a long altar, with trays of fruit and garlands left behind as offerings. Though you are alone in the shrine, it is evident that many come here to worship the Ancient Ones. You suspect that the shrine here is not as large as the temples in the city of Aspal, but it does not take away from the beauty around you. <<if $spiritual_ancient gt 50>> You have always believed in the presence of the Ancient Ones and now, as you take in the magnificence of the shrine, you are left standing in awe of the murals depicting the ancient deities.<</if>> <<if $spiritual_ancient is 50>>It is difficult to know how to feel about the Ancient Ones, after all, you are still uncertain if you believe in their existence or not. Still, even if you are left questioning, you are not blind to the beauty of the shrine around you.<</if>><<if $spiritual_ancient lt 5>>You do not believe in the Ancient Ones and have to fight back the urge to scowl at the carvings and offers on the altar.<<elseif $spiritual_ancient is 15>>You are beginning to believe in the Ancient Ones and the sight of the shrine brings a soft smile to your lips.<</if>> To one side, you find a wide bowl filled with sweet scented flowers. Glancing at the altar, you realise that many have used the flowers as offerings. [[Make your own offering of the flowers.|chp3_24a1_flower]] [[Kneel before the altar and pray to the Ancient Ones.|chp3_24a1_pray]] [[Examine the murals and intricate carvings in awe.|chp3_24a1_art]]

Since arriving at the palace, you have not been outside much unless it is when you ventured to the city of Aspal. As a result, you have hardly seen the steed that carried you and Prince Irus across land when you fled from Salt Bay. You make your way through the long hallways and eventually step outside into an enclosed building that leads outside. Following the faint breeze, you make your way outside and find yourself in an open courtyard. On one side of the courtyard, you spot a large building where a few stablehands hurry through. Realising that this is where Crown must be housed, you make your way towards the large stables. [[Next.|chp3_24_a2_stable]]

The palace hallways are quiet as you make your way back to your chamber. You suppose that most of the servants have been tasked with preparing the banquet hall. Your feet are sore from walking through Aspal and when you finally arrive at your assigned room, you let out a breath. It is quiet inside the room, the sunlight streaming through the parted curtains. Your belongings are still where you left them and a quick search under the bed reveals the jade box that your father gave you when you fled Salt Bay. Glancing around the room, you realise it is still too early for supper and you are not nearly exhausted enough to find sleep. [[Search through the jade box.|chp3_24_a3_1]] <<if $chp2_book is true>> [[You read the book Sir Oren bought for you.|chp3_24_a3_2]]<</if>> <<if $chp2_irus_ring is true>> [[Examine the ring that Prince Irus gifted you.|chp3_24_a3_3]]<</if>>

You move towards the clay bowl and reach in, grabbing a handful of the flowers. The petals are soft and slightly wet, as if they have been freshly picked. Your eyes turn to the altar, taking in the numerous offerings already placed upon its cool surface. There are flowers, like those in your palms but you also catch a glimpse of gold coins, sweetmeats and pots filled with thick oils. Glancing at the altar and then at the flowers in your hands, you... <<set $chp3_shrine to 0>> [[...place them on the altar as an offering.|chp3_24a1_f1][$chp3_shrine +=1]] [[...return them to the clay bowl, because you cannot bring yourself to make an offering.|chp3_24a1_f1][$chp3_shrine +=2]] [[...place them on the altar, though you do not believe that it will do anything.|chp3_24a1_f1][$chp3_shrine +=3]]

You ignore the clay bowl of flowers and decide it would be best to simple pray to the deities that have been worshipped by many for years. Stepping towards the altar, you kneel down so that the cool floor presses against your legs. In Salt Bay, there had been no forms of worship allowed except for Solus. Even so, Ahlf had not been interested in the gods or prayer and you were often left wondering what it would be like to have grown up with Mama, a worshipper of the Ancient Ones. Glancing at the murals, you take note of the figures depicted in them, each with their names carved out into hard stone. One on side of the chamber, you find an image of Imteus who is depicted pouring water from a pitcher. Beside him, you find a carving of Atses surrounded by a crown of stars. On the opposite end of the chamber, you find an entire wall depicting images of Gabus, responsible for death and the governing the afterlife and to the right of that, you find a small shrine dedicated to Ehulla, the mother goddess of the Ancient Ones. Kneeling before the murals and carvings of the Ancient Ones around you, you pray to... <<set $chp3_pray to 0>> [[...Imteus for wisdom and guidance for the challenges you are to face.|chp3_24a1_p1][$chp3_pray +=1]] [[...Atses for courage to overcome the obstacles in your path.|chp3_24a1_p1][$chp3_pray +=2]] [[...Gabus for strength to defeat the foes that await you.|chp3_24a1_p1][$chp3_pray +=3]] [[...Ehulla for the love and peace that you desperately seek.|chp3_24a1_p1][$chp3_pray +=4]]

You decide to take in the images of the Ancient Ones around you. The chamber is tall and the walls, carved with the ancient texts of the deities overlook the rest of the altar. Moving deeper into the chamber, you let your eyes take in the colourful fabrics, embroidered with vermillion thread. Each depicts a different deity, more than you can count. There are deities that you have never heard or seen before and you wonder just how many Ancient Ones exist. As you continue around the room, you find a line of small idols that cannot be bigger than the palm of your hand. What is odd, however, is the different designs of the sculptures. Where the rest of the chamber is uniform in its depictions of the Ancient Ones, the idols before you are sculpted in strange and contrasting shapes. <<set $chp3_24a1_art to 0>> [[You pick up an idol depicting what appears to be an Ancient One and a foreign deity.|chp3_24a1_a1][$chp3_24a1_art +=1]] [[You lean down to examine an idol that reminds you of Solus, surrounded by three goddesses.|chp3_24a1_a1][$chp3_24a1_art +=2]] [[You notice a series of idols, depicting animalistic deities.|chp3_24a1_a1][$chp3_24a1_art +=3]]

<<if $chp3_shrine is 1>> You step closer to the altar as you lay the flowers gently against the stone surface. For a moment, you stare at the altar, covered in elaborate carvings of deities that are now forgotten in Cyre. You run the pad of your thumb across the grooves of the stone altar. The stone is cool beneath your skin, calming your thoughts and easing your breaths. Perhaps your offering will bring you good fortune or perhaps, it will not do anything. Yet, as you take in the offerings before you, you know that there are others who worship the Ancient Ones without fear of being hunted down by the Blood Guard. You are only grateful that you were able to witness more than just hatred towards those with Ishari heritages and beliefs. <<elseif $chp3_shrine is 2>> The longer you stare at the altar, the more difficult it becomes to bring yourself to place the flowers along its cool surface. A sigh escapes you and you unfurl your fingers, dropping the flowers back into the clay bowl. Taking in the rest of the offerings before you, you find your lips pulling into a slight frown. There are a myriad of emotions filling you as you stare at the altar. Making an offering may come easy for others, yet for you, it is filled with complications you had not truly understood until now. You are Ishari, but you also possess your father's Cyre blood. <<elseif $chp3_shrine is 3>> The flowers are sweet even as you place them against the cool surface of the stone altar. You gaze at your offering for a moment, wondering if anything is supposed to happen. An offering of flowers seem like a pitiful gift for deities who are asked for more than simple trinkets by their worshippers and you suddenly question the use of making an offering. Letting out a deep breath, you take a few steps back, your eyes shifting over the other offerings beside yours. Perhaps if you were to offer something more meaningful then you would receive the answers you have always sought. But with nothing much to give, you can only stare at the flowers you have left on the altar. <</if>><<set $chp3_shrine to false>> You move away from the altar and return to the centre of the room. [[Next.|chp3_24_landing][$chp3_shrine to true]]

As you stand in the middle of the chamber, an attendant enters carrying a tray of jars and pots. She bows her head when she notices you and you linger a moment, watching as she heads for the altar. She is quick as she makes her offerings to the Ancient Ones and you turn away, to give her privacy as she kneels down to pray. You step away from the chamber, blinking when the sunlight from the arched windows nearly blind you. It is evening now and you realise that you spent much longer in the chamber than you had wanted to. Turning away, you make your way back to your room. [[Next.|chp3_25]]

<<if $chp3_pray is 1>> Imteus is said to be responsible for the creation of humanity and as you gaze up at the relief depicting Imteus, you note a kindness reflected in his expression. With a breath, you send out a silent prayer to Imteus, praying that he will guide you with the wisdom that you need in order to make the right decisions. There are many things that await you, your fate seemingly tied to Prince Irus' without much of your consent. It is hard to know how much of this journey has been yours and how much of it has simply been because you have spent so much time with Prince Irus. But what you do know is that no matter what happens, if Virion and the Blood Guard are not defeated, the brutalities of war will spill across the borders of Cyre. <<elseif $chp3_pray is 2>> There is something reassuring by the sight of Atses who stares across the chamber, wearing a crown of stars. Atses is supposed to be the ruler of the deities, one of the first of the Ancient Ones who descended from the skies. As you gaze across at his image, you find that he wears a determined expression as though no adversity is too strong for him. Closing your eyes, you send out a silent prayer to Atses, praying for bravery in the challenges that lie ahead of you. Your life has been one filled with many obstacles, starting when you and Mama had to flee Ishari. You wonder for a moment if your life would have been different if you were born in Cyre or if Ahlf had never been your father. Would Mama have brought you to Vinia with the rest of your family? But wondering does you no good and you settle for asking for courage from Atses instead. <<elseif $chp3_pray is 3>> Gabus is known to be a formidable goddess, one whose strength goes unchallenged. After all, no one has ever defied death. Perhaps it is fitting then that you kneel and send a silent prayer to Gabus. She is said to bless her followers with the strength to face great enemies, including those like the Blood Guard. You let out a breath and wonder if your prayers will be answered. It almost feels as if you have always been forced to flee. First, with Mama and then, with Ahlf. Will you ever be strong enough to confront the Blood Guard? Staring up at the impassive expression of the carving of Gabus, you can only hope that you will be strong enough when you next meet the Blood Guard. <<elseif $chp3_pray is 4>> Ehulla was the goddess your mother worshipped and it was one of her temples that gave you and Prince Irus shelter when you needed it the most. Gazing up at the relief of Ehulla, you find a soft expression in her face, one that reminds you of Mama. She is not known for violence and you wonder if peace will ever find you. Closing your eyes, you send out a silent prayer to Ehulla, asking for an end to the violence and cruelty. You can only hope that your prayers will be answered. More war will mean more deaths, especially for those who cannot defend themselves like the people in Salt Bay. Knowing that the Blood Guard will not stop until they find Prince Irus, you pray that Ehulla will grant your prayers sooner rather than later. <</if>><<set $chp3_24shrine_pray to false>> [[Next.|chp3_24_landing][$chp3_24shrine_pray to true]]

<<if $chp3_24a1_art is 1>> The idol is small and cool against your palm as you pick it up. Examining it closer, you find that it is made from bronze and weighs heavily in your grip. Turning it over, you inspect the deities depicted in the idol. On one side, you find a tall figure, with a curled serpent around his arm. Peering closer, you find that the face of the deity reminds you of Imteus and when you compare the carvings around you with the idol in your hand, you are certain that the Ancient One in your grip is indeed Imteus. But it is the deity beside Imteus that draws your attention. Glancing down at the figure beside Imteus, you find a tall goddess who wields a tall staff in her right hand while the left is extended to hold onto Imteus' shoulder. In Vinia, there is no preference of one religion to another and as you examine the idol in your hand, you wonder if this diversity has resulted in an amalgamation of the different religions. <<if $day2visit is 2>> Peering closer at the goddess beside Imteus, you find that she resembles the same style of deities that you saw in the Grand Temple of the Twelve. Perhaps she is one of the goddesses of the Twelve? You frown, still considering the implications of the idol.<</if>> <<elseif $chp3_24a1_art is 2>> The idol you pick up is made of a copper and along its edges, you notice the green tinged flakes that is beginning to peel away from the idol. Examining the idol, you notice with a flicker of surprise that the deity is in fact Solus. Bright rays of sun encircle him like a crown. But it is the appearance of three goddesses behind him that draws your attention. In all your time in Cyre, you have never seen Solus surrounded by other deities, let alone three goddesses. Peering closer at the goddesses, you notice the faint differences amongst them. One, stands to the side holding a crescent shaped disc in her palm. Another stands beside Solus, her palms raised above their heads. The last goddess is curled at Solus' feet, holding a strange orb in her palms. Are there more deities than Solus? The thought causes you to frown and you wonder what else is being kept from those in Cyre. <<elseif $chp3_24a1_art is 3>> You kneel as you inspect the strange looking idols that have been lined in a row. One of the idols seems to be a horned antelope of some kind, the horns long and sharp as the curve like an archer's bow. Another reveals a wild cat, its jaws open wide as she nurses three cubs at her belly. The final idol depicts a wild hound, its body too large to be a simple dog. You peer at them in curiosity, never having seen animals like these in any form of religion before. The idols seem to be from a completely different religion, one you have not heard of before. As you gaze at them, you wonder which region they must come from and why they are lying here, in a chamber seemed to have been built to worship the Ancient Ones. <</if>> Returning the idol to its place, you stand and move back to the centre of the room. <<set $chp3_24_art to false>> [[Next.|chp3_24_landing][$chp3_24_art to true]]

The stable is narrower than it first appears to be, with stalls on either side of you as you enter the building. Beneath your feet, stray strands of straw and dust coat your shoes and you catch a whiff of musk that coats the air. You scan the stalls, searching for Crown. To your right, you spot a mottled grey mare who snorts at you when you approach. Shaking away the heat of her breath, you move further down and notice a young stallion who chews lazily as you pass. Continuing your search, you wonder if you have come to the wrong stable. Just as you are about to give up your search, you bump into a stablehand. She can be no older than twenty, but she is tall and the broadness of her arms suggest that she is strong enough to control the horses around you. "Are you looking for something?" she asks, raising an eyebrow. You nod, your eyes shifting from the stalls to the woman. "I was looking for a horse that was brought in a while ago. His name is Crown and-" The woman's eyes flicker with recognition. "You mean the Prince's steed? Come, I'll take you to him. I was about to take him outside for a bit." [[Next.|chp3_24_a2_s1]]

You follow the woman as she leads you through the stable. Dust tickles your nose and the scent of the different stalls reminds you of animals herded on a farm. Pushing past the stalls, the woman reaches the end of the stable where you find a familiar stallion. After such a long journey, you are glad to see that Crown looks better than he had when you first arrived in Vinia. "He's a tough one, but after a good brush down and a few salt stones, he settled down well enough," the woman says. You reach out and Crown snorts, brushing the tip of his cool nose against your outstretched palm. The stablehand offers you a smile. "He likes you," she says. "If you want, you can take him out yourself. The field is good to stretch his legs or you can take him by the courtyard for a brush down." <<set $chp3_horse to 0>> [[You decide to take Crown out to the field.|chp3_24_a2_sa][$chp3_horse +=1]] [[You prefer taking him to the courtyard for a brush down.|chp3_24_a2_sb][$chp3_horse +=2]]

"I'll take him out to the field," you say. "He must be feeling cooped up in the stables." The stablehand nods. "He has been a little restless. I think it'll do him good to stretch his legs out for a bit." She moves to attach a lead line to Crown, before handing the thick rope to you. The lead is heavy in your grip and you tighten your fingers around it as you follow the stablehand out to the field. Crown follows you obediently enough, though his trots pick up speed when you finally emerge outside the stable. The field is open and wide, enclosed by a wooden fence. "I'll leave you to it then," she says. You watch as the stablehand disappears back into the stable, leaving you for the most part alone with Crown. Turning to look at him, you find the stallion sniffing around the ground. <<set $chp3_24_crownfield to 0>> [[Untether his lead and watch Crown gallop freely.|chp3_24_a2_sa1][$chp3_24_crownfield +=1]] [[Lead Crown around the field with his lead.|chp3_24_a2_sa1][$chp3_24_crownfield +=2]]

"I'll take him to the courtyard," you answer. The stablehand nods at you as she begins fastening the lead to his headcollar. "He does need a good brush down. His mane is always getting tangled." Handing you the lead, you guide Crown out of the stables and towards the courtyard. His trots are steady beside you, though he speeds up in apparent excitement when you finally emerge out of the stable. You let out a soft laugh as you lead him to a wooden post and fasten his lead. "There are brushes in there," the stablehand explains, gesturing a rack. "I'll leave you to it then." She begins to leave then stops, turning to you with a grin. "There are also some ribbons left there by the other stablehands if you're inclined on making him look his best." As she walks away, you look up at Crown. He snorts at you, his warm breath ruffling your skin. <<set $chp3_24_a2_ribbon to false>> [[You decide to only brush down Crown.|chp3_24_a2_sb1]] [[You choose to make use of the ribbons.|chp3_24_a2_sb1][$chp3_24_a2_ribbon to true]]

<<if $chp3_24_crownfield is 1>> You reach over and untether the lead that is fixed against Crown's headcollar. The rope comes away and Crown shakes his mane, whinnying in response. You watch with a widening smile as he takes off across the field, his long legs thundering against the ground. You move to stand on one side of the enclosure, as Crown gallops across the field. He almost reminds you of Prince Irus and you remember the way Prince Irus spoke of him fondly. The stallion comes up to you, nuzzling your hand and you reach out to stroke his mane. <<elseif $chp3_24_crownfield is 2>> You grip Crown's lead in your hand as you walk around the field with him. Crown keeps his trots slow, though by the way he snorts, you suspect that he would prefer to be galloping around the field instead. Reaching out, you brush your hand against his warm flank. He has been brushed down and his hair is now smooth under your skin. Gazing at the large steed, you cannot help but think of the fond way Prince Irus spoke about him. You smile as Crown snorts, pressing his cold nose against your neck. <</if>><<set $chp3_24_a2_sa1 to 0>> [["I do hope he knows how lucky he is to have a horse like you," you say, rubbing behind Crown's ear.|chp3_24_a2_sa2][$chp3_24_a2_sa1 +=1]] [["Thank you for bringing us to safety," you murmur as you stroke the side of his face.|chp3_24_a2_sa2][$chp3_24_a2_sa1 +=2]] [[You stroke his mane, appreciative of the comfort he brings you.|chp3_24_a2_sa2][$chp3_24_a2_sa1 +=3]]

<<if $chp3_24_a2_sa1 is 1>> "I do hope he knows how lucky he is to have a horse like you," you say, rubbing behind Crown's ear. Crown sighs, his dark eyes meeting yours as you scratch the skin behind his ear. You begin to draw away when Crown snorts, his nose ruffling the top of your <<if $hairlong is "bald">>head<<else>>hair<</if>>. His breath tickles your skin and you laugh, returning your hand behind his ear. "You're nearly as spoilt as Irus," you comment. "But I think we both know that you're far more manageable." Crown nickers as if in agreement and you find your lips pulling into a wide grin. In the beginning of the journey, you never expected to befriend a horse and as you gaze up at Crown, you find that you are grateful for his company even if he cannot talk. <<elseif $chp3_24_a2_sa1 is 2>> "Thank you for bringing us to safety," you murmur as you stroke the side of his face. Crown sighs, his warm breath brushing the top of your face. You smile, your fingers splaying across the side of his face as you stroke your fingers along his dark hair. Gazing up at him, you find Crown's eyes on you, the darkness nearly black as he watches you. "You're so sweet," you coo. "It's hard to believe that you belong to Irus." Crown snorts, as if in agreement and you let out a small chuckle. "Shall we run away together?" you ask. "Imagine it now, you and me going on adventures across the lands." Shaking his mane, Crown nickers and you find yourself smiling as you reach out to rub behind his ear. In the beginning of the journey, you never expected to befriend a horse and as you gaze up at Crown, you find that you are grateful for his company even if he cannot talk. <<elseif $chp3_24_a2_sa1 is 3>> You stroke his mane, appreciative of the comfort he brings you. His mane has been brushed and feels soft under your fingers. You smile at Crown, rubbing your palm along the length of his neck. He is dark, a beautiful stallion that is far larger than he ought to be. Still, as you run you fingers through his mane, you feel him nuzzling the top of your head. "You tuly are spoilt," you laugh, as you pull away to look up at him. Crown snorts, shaking his head as if disagreeing with you. Another laugh escapes you and you find that being around Crown soothes you. "You're right," you answer. "You're not as spoilt as Irus." Nuzzling your palm, Crown sighs and you reach out to run your hand along the side of his face. He is a majestic steed and one that has brought you more comfort than you thought possible. <</if>> [[Next.|chp3_24_a2_landing]]

Eventually, the sky begins to turn pink as evening draws near. You lead Crown back to the stable, smiling when he follows you without complaint. Perhaps it is only your imagination, but it seems as if Crown has grown to trust you almost as much as he trusts Prince Irus. Patting the side of his neck, you guide Crown back into his stall. "I'll visit soon," you say, rubbing his face. "Thank you for today." Crown's dark eyes find yours and you feel a swell of warmth spread through you. Smiling, you turn away from the stables and return back to the palace. [[Next.|chp3_25]]

<<if $chp3_24_a2_ribbon is true>> You inspect the rack as you search for the ribbons the stablehand mentioned. Eventually, you find a few gold coloured ribbons that would go well against Crown's black mane. Returning to the stallion, you smile when he leans closer, nuzzling the side of your head. His breath is warm and his nose is cold against your skin and you raise up the ribbons. "Time to look your best," you announce. Crown only snorts in response and you take that as acquiescence. You begin to brush out his dark mane, untangling the strands that have come together in knots. Crown stands still, sighing as you run the bristles down his mane. He lets you work without protest, nickering softly when you reach out to scratch behind his ear. When his mane is untangled, you turn your attention to rest of his form. He is a large steed, one bred for war. You use a smaller brush and a cloth to brush along his flank and sides, wiping away the layers of dust that have gathered against his coat. It does not take long and you find the act of grooming Crown to be a soothing endeavour. To your surprise, Crown does not pull away as you begin to plait his mane, adding in the strips of gold ribbon through the hair. Once you are done, you tie off the ends with a knot and stand back to admire your work. A small smile plays on your lips at the sight of him before you; the gold ribbons are woven through the small plaits of his mane, as if he were wearing a circlet. <<elseif $chp3_24_a2_ribbon is false>> You search through the rack until you settle for a brush with thick bristles and a cloth to wipe down Crown's coat. Returning to the stallion, you reach out to pat the side of his neck, receiving a snort of hot breath against your face in response. Your smile softens as you gaze up at his dark eyes. As you begin to brush his tangled mane, you find the thoughts in your mind coming to a stop. There is something soothing about spending time with Crown. The process of running the bristles through the dark hair of his mane is repetitive and with each brush, you find that your mind becomes clearer. Crown sighs as you begin to wipe down the rest of his coat with a cloth and you turn to him with a wide smile. "You're nearly as spoilt as Irus," you laugh. "But don't tell him I said that." Shaking his head, Crown's mane hits your face as if the comparison has upset him. Your grin widens and you scratch behind his ear, trying to placate him. "Fine, you're not that bad," you reply. "You're a very easy horse." Crown snorts again, his nose sniffing at the top of your head. His breath is wet and hot, but you reach out to stroke the sides of his face. Were it not for Crown, you doubt that you and Prince Irus would have managed to flee the Blood Guard. <</if>><<set $chp3_24_a2_sb1 to 0>> [["You look magnificent," you announce, admiring Crown's brushed down coat.|chp3_24_a2_sb2][$chp3_24_a2_sb1 +=1]] [["You'll be the envy of the other horses," you laugh, rubbing his neck.|chp3_24_a2_sb2][$chp3_24_a2_sb1 +=2]] [[You run your fingers through his mane, smiling at his new appearance.|chp3_24_a2_sb2][$chp3_24_a2_sb1 +=3]]

<<if $chp3_24_a2_sb1 is 1>> "You look magnificent," you announce, admiring Crown's brushed down coat. The dust that dulled the darkness of his coat is gone and his mane is soft under your touch. You smile at Crown, thankful for his aid when you and Prince Irus had to flee. Reaching out, you stroke the side of his face and smile when he sighs against your touch. He is a far larger than the other horses you've seen and despite being bred for war, you cannot help but think that Crown would rather be in a field than at a battlefield. Your smile fades at the thought of having to go into battle. After all, if Prince Irus does not secure the help of the councillors, you are certain that you will be facing the Blood Guard alone with only a horse and an exiled prince. <<elseif $chp3_24_a2_sb1 is 2>> "You'll be the envy of the other horses," you laugh, rubbing his neck. You smile at Crown, marvelling at how soft his coat feels under your fingers. It is true, you think. Compared to the other horses in the stable, Crown is much larger and stronger. He was bred for war, but you wonder if Crown rather prefer peaceful pastures to a battlefield. "If only we could just enjoy the rest of our lives without worrying about the Blood Guard," you sigh. Crown nickers, his cold nose pressing into your side and another laugh escapes you. You run your fingers through his untangled mane, enjoying the softness of his hair. A pang of remorse fills you at the thought of placing Crown into danger, but you know that if the Blood Guard and Virion are not stopped, there will be no safe pastures left for Crown. <<elseif $chp3_24_a2_sb1 is 3>> You run your fingers through his mane, smiling at his new appearance. Crown sighs at your touch and you reach out to scratch behind his ears. Despite his bulk and strength, Crown seems less like a war horse and more like a pony who would prefer the wide open fields to a battlefield. Your smile dulls at the thought of Crown having to face danger, simply because of the circumstances he cannot change. "In a way, we're almost the same," you murmur. Crown snorts as if in agreement. Most of your life has been out of your control. Even the perilous journey you have had to endure came from fleeing the Blood Guard. Your choices were limited and you cannot help but wonder if you would have done things differently, if given the opportunity. <</if>> [[Next.|chp3_24_a2_landing]]

The jade box is heavy in your grip as you slide it from under the bed. It is still difficult to think that it has been out of reach from you for so many years, until now. Your father kept many secrets from you and it seems that you are never quite ready to deal with the memories of his past. Lifting the lid of the box, you peer inside. The thickly bound letters and yellowing papers give off a musty smell as you pull them out. You have read many letters, some from your mother and others from King Erlan. Then there are those that come from people who were part of the Blood Guard when your father was still a General. <<set $chp3_24_letters to 0>> [[Search for letters from your mother.|chp3_24_a3_l1][$chp3_24_letters +=1]] [[Search for letters from King Erlan.|chp3_24_a3_l1][$chp3_24_letters +=2]] [[Search for letters from your father's time as the General of the Blood Guard.|chp3_24_a3_l1][$chp3_24_letters +=3]]

Your lips pull up into a faint smile as you pull out the book that Sir Oren purchased for you at the market. He was kind to you then and you cannot help the swell of warmth that fills you at his generosity. As you smooth your fingers over the cover of the book, you feel... <<set $chp3_24_a3_2 to 0>> [[...grateful for Sir Oren's kindness.|chp3_24_a3_2a][$chp3_24_a3_2 +=1]] [[...heat spread across your cheeks, knowing that he bought you a gift.|chp3_24_a3_2a][$chp3_24_a3_2 +=2]] [[...a pleasant tingling across your skin, remembering his soft smile when he handed you the book.|chp3_24_a3_2a][$chp3_24_a3_2 +=3]] [[...choked up, thinking about his kind gesture when he gifted you the book.|chp3_24_a3_2a][$chp3_24_a3_2 +=4]]

Your eyes shift as they land on the gold ring that Prince Irus gifted you after the game of dice. You stare at it, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips, remembering the surprise of receiving a gift from him. Picking up the gold band, you feel the cool metal against your fingers. The ring has been engraved with swirling patterns, an elaborate design depicting the stars. As you examine the ring, you... <<set $chp3_24_a3_3 to 0>> [[...smile wider, grateful for Prince Irus' gift and friendship.|chp3_24_a3_3a][$chp3_24_a3_3 +=1]] [[...feel heat blossom along your face at the implications of his gift.|chp3_24_a3_3a][$chp3_24_a3_3 +=2]] [[...grin at the memory of his gaze when he gifted you the ring.|chp3_24_a3_3a][$chp3_24_a3_3 +=3]] [[...swallow a lump, touched by his gesture.|chp3_24_a3_3a][$chp3_24_a3_3 +=4]]

<<set $chp3_24_letter_feel to 0>><<if $chp3_24_letters is 1>> The letters are the form of contact you have with your mother and even though they were written when she was still around, reading them now has revealed more into your parents' relationship than you ever knew. Sifting through the letters, you finally find one written in the elegant writing you recognise as your mother's. //Vespera, 520. Ahlf, it has been far too long since we have seen each other. Your visit the last time lasted only a few days, before you left. I know that you want nothing to do with me, but you owe it to our $heir to be $MChis father. I cannot continue lying to $name about where you are and why you do not visit. My family are gone and so it is left to me to care for $name. The other priestesses try to help when they can, but I cannot keep my duties to the temple and to $name without your help. Please Ahlf, I beg you to consider my offer. We can be happy together if only you stopped being so stubborn. You are no longer a hound loyal to his master, so come back to $name and me. -Salyra.// As you stare at your mother's handwriting and her pleading to your father, you... [[...feel tears well up at the corners of your eyes, mourning the loss of the family you could have had.|chp3_24_a3_l2][$chp3_24_letter_feel +=1]] [[...struggle to breathe, overwhelmed by the grief and frustation at the futility of your parents' relationship.|chp3_24_a3_l2][$chp3_24_letter_feel +=2]] [[...tighten your grip around the letter, furious that Ahlf never returned to your mother and you.|chp3_24_a3_l2][$chp3_24_letter_feel +=3]] [[...feel bittersweet as you read your mother's desperation for your father's return.|chp3_24_a3_l2][$chp3_24_letter_feel +=4]] [[...are numb, unable to comprehend how to feel about your parents.|chp3_24_a3_l2][$chp3_24_letter_feel +=5]] <<elseif $chp3_24_letters is 2>> The correspondence between your father and King Erlan seems to have been sporadic in the months after your father left the Blood Guard, but you soon find a thick page that speaks of wealth your father could never hope to achieve as a fisherman. Scanning the letter, you find King Erlan's name at the bottom and begin to read. //Sedu, 544. Ahlf, I loathe to write to you again but I fear that my time is nearing its end. You were right. I hate to admit but Virion vies for my throne. He is unstable, growing stronger while I wither away. When Irus was born, I trusted you before all others. Do not fail me now, Ahlf. Keep him safe when others would see him dead. Do it for the friendship we once shared and the oath you gave to give your life for my son. In a fortnight, he will be named king and I have instructed him to seek your aid. Protect him and you will be rewarded for your loyalty. Make good on your oath and I will ensure the safety of your $heir. -E.// Gazing at the letter, you realise that it was sent to Ahlf only a month before King Erlan's death. You frown in disbelief. Is that how your father had known that Irus was coming? It leaves you feeling... [[...surprised that your father could keep something like this from you.|chp3_24_a3_l2][$chp3_24_letter_feel +=6]] [[...upset that your father hid so much from you.|chp3_24_a3_l2][$chp3_24_letter_feel +=7]] [[...angry that your father never told you about his oath to protect Prince Irus.|chp3_24_a3_l2][$chp3_24_letter_feel +=8]] [[...overwhelmed by the revelation that neither you nor your father had a choice in this decision.|chp3_24_a3_l2][$chp3_24_letter_feel +=9]] [[...numb with indifference, for this is not the first thing your father has kept from you.|chp3_24_a3_l2][$chp3_24_letter_feel +=10]] <<elseif $chp3_24_letters is 3>> Your father's time as the General of the Blood Guard had been a difficult thing to understand, yet somehow, he managed to find love with your mother. Perhaps there is more to learn about his role if you find the right letter? Searching through the box, you find a torn page, almost wrinkled in appearance that is addressed to your father. //Damia, 517. I worry about you, Ahlf. The soldiers no longer want to fight, not when you have abandoned them for a life in Ishari. It is strange to fight against a face you have come to know and respect. You must know that I do not blame you for fleeing. I only wish that I had the courage to flee when I had the chance, but someone has to lead the Blood Guard and I cannot abandon these young men and women. The soldiers tell me that you will be a father soon. I know that you never wanted this, but perhaps it will be for the better. He always listened to you. Maybe when he sees your child, he will forgive the Ishari and cease this war. Your priestess must think that too, for a union between our nations might bring peace to the realm. Stay safe, Ahlf and I hope that we do not meet on the battlefield. -Lena.// You reread the letter until you cannot read it any longer. Who was this Lena? It is clear that she knew Ahlf from their time together in the Blood Guard. Glancing at the date, you realise that it was sent a year before you were born. You swallow and glance at the writing and you... [[...are grateful that your father had a friend who cared about him so deeply.|chp3_24_a3_l2][$chp3_24_letter_feel +=11]] [[...become curious about who Lena was to your father.|chp3_24_a3_l2][$chp3_24_letter_feel +=12]] [[...wonder if your father left the Blood Guard out of his own will.|chp3_24_a3_l2][$chp3_24_letter_feel +=13]] [[...are annoyed that your father still kept in touch with the Blood Guard after leaving.|chp3_24_a3_l2][$chp3_24_letter_feel +=14]] [[...do not know how to feel about your father's correspondence with the Blood Guard.|chp3_24_a3_l2][$chp3_24_letter_feel +=15]] <</if>>

<<if $chp3_24_letter_feel is 1>> Tears prickle at the edges of your eyes and the familiar burning that comes from sobbing fills your nose. You blink, swallowing a thick lump in the back of your throat as you reread your mother's handwriting. How much did she truly beg for Ahlf to return? How often did your father ignore her? Wondering only makes your sorrow grow and you hastily swipe at your eyes. <<elseif $chp3_24_letter_feel is 2>> It is is hard to swallow a breth as you stare at your mother's letter. You gasp, your thoughts racing and your fingers tightening around the page. It crumples beneath your grip and you force yourself to loosen your hold. Looking away, you suck in a breath and then, another. You do this for some time, until it no longer feels like you are about to suffocate. Was the relationship between your parents always doomed or had they not tried hard enough? The question goes unanswered, for neither of them are here to tell you the truth. <<elseif $chp3_24_letter_feel is 3>> The page twists under your grip, your fingers tightening around it. You stare with narrowed eyes at the writing, suddenly furious at your father. How could he have ignored your mother and you? Did he ever care about you? You clench your jaw, your mind working over the years you spent with Ahlf. Did he ever love you or was he only caring for you because of Mama? <<elseif $chp3_24_letter_feel is 4>> You tremble slightly, knowing that your mother was alone for most of your early upbringing. It hurts to know that you can hardly recall those years with Mama or remember the sound of her voice. There are only vague recollections of her gentle touch or her kind smile. It is difficult to know if the relationship between your parents was genuine or if they truly loved each other. Staring at the letter, you can only feel sorrow for your mother's desperation, <<elseif $chp3_24_letter_feel is 5>> The more your read, the less easy it becomes for you to understand your emotions. There is so much that you still do not understand. What happened between Mama and Ahlf? Did they ever love each other? Gazing at the letter in your hand, you feel a sense of indifference. It is hollow and spreads through you until you no longer know how to feel about the relationship between your parents. <<elseif $chp3_24_letter_feel is 6>> Your breath quickens as you stare at the letter. You knew that Prince Irus' arrival in Salt Bay was not unexpected by your father. But, knowing that your father knew about his arrival and kept this letter from you still surprises you. You cannot help but wonder if your father ever told you the truth. It feels as if the more days you go on without him, the more you discover that he was hiding from you. <<elseif $chp3_24_letter_feel is 7>> You frown, a swell of disappointment and frustration filling you as you contemplate King Erlan's letter to your father. How much more must you uncover without him to answer your questions? You wonder if Ahlf ever trusted you and if he did, why he never told you about his past or his correspondence with King Erlan. Then, a niggling sense of doubt worms its way into your thoughts. If the Blood Guard had never come to Salt Bay, would your father have even told you any of this? <<elseif $chp3_24_letter_feel is 8>> It seems as if Prince Irus knew more about your father's oath to protect him than you ever would. You frown, anger filling you in a heated rush of emotions. Your father kept his past from you and the letters he received. Never did he mention the Blood Guard or his oath. Rage courses through knowing that he kept so much from you. <<elseif $chp3_24_letter_feel is 9>> It becomes clear to you that all of the choices made by your father was never truly his to begin with. King Erlan put pressure on him and Mama had brought you to Ahlf all those years ago without telling him. Perhaps if she had sent you to Vinia, none of this would have happened. A sigh escapes you, as the surge of frustration and grief fills you. The emotions are nearly drowning as they swallow your thoughts and leave you gasping for breath. <<elseif $chp3_24_letter_feel is 10>> Perhaps a part of you should be surprised or even angry by the fact that you have discovered another thing that Ahlf kept from you. But reading through the letter once more does nothing but elicit a soft breath from your lips. Your father never told you much growing up and it seems that even after death, he is still not as forthcoming as you would have liked him to be. <<elseif $chp3_24_letter_feel is 11>> You have never known your father to have had friends. Growing up in Salt Bay, your father would often be away at sea and when you helped him sell his catch at the market, the other residents stayed far enough from him that you know that he was almost as much of an outsider as you. Reading through Lena's letter to your father, you feel a sense of relief knowing that your father was not always alone. Lena seems to have cared a great deal about Ahlf and for that, you are grateful. <<elseif $chp3_24_letter_feel is 12>> You frown, trying to make out the relationship between your father and this Lena person. It is difficult to glean much, she does not speak of anything but the war and your father's life in Ishari with Mama. Were they friends before? Had your father known her well? Were they lovers? The questions go mostly unanswered, but what you do know for certain is that Lena cared enough to write to your father even after he left the Blood Guard. <<elseif $chp3_24_letter_feel is 13>> Furrowing your eyebrows, you stare at the letter. Had your father never wanted to leave the Blood Guard? Did he even intend on staying with Mama? You swallow, suddenly uneasy at the prospect that perhaps your father was never a willing deserter but rather, influenced by external influences that had nothing to do with what he wanted. It suddenly makes you wonder if he had ever wanted to have a child - to have you - with Mama. Maybe it would explain his distance during your childhood. <<elseif $chp3_24_letter_feel is 14>> Irritation flares within you knowing that your father still had friends in the Blood Guard. From what you know and have experienced, the Blood Guard are ruthless and will kill anyone in their way. Knowing that Ahlf kept in touch with Lena while in Ishari fills you with rage and your fingers tighten around the edges of the letter. <<elseif $chp3_24_letter_feel is 15>> You try to imagine what it must have been like for Ahlf during those early years before your birth. Had he ever thought of going back to the Blood Guard or was he simply keeping in touch with an old friend? You frown, uncertain how to feel. Perhaps you should feel angry or sympathetic to the life he must have led, but without him being here to answer your questions, you find that you are more confused than anything else. <</if>> Folding the letter, you place it back into the jade box. Your mind races with more questions than answers and you suddenly wish that you had known all of this when your father was still alive. At least you could have gleaned some insight into the past if he could answer your questions. A sigh escapes you and a quick glance at the window reveals that the sky is already darkening. With no time to do much more, you return the jade box to its place beneath your bed. [[Next.|chp3_25]]

<<if $chp3_24_a3_2 is 1>> Sir Oren's compassion for others seems to be endless. You wonder if his upbringing has influenced him to be kinder than most who hold similar positions in Vinia. You smile at the book, touched by his generosity. In all your years in Salt Bay, you never had someone care as much as Sir Oren has and for that, you will be eternally grateful. <<elseif $chp3_24_a3_2 is 2>> You reach out to touch your cheeks, warm under your fingers. It is hard to think over the trembling of your breaths and the way your skin flushes despite the cool evening. You do not know what to make of Sir Oren's gift. He is kind and generous and yet, the less rational part of your mind tells you that it is more than friendship. Heart thundering under your chest, you smile softly as you gaze at the book in your grip. <<elseif $chp3_24_a3_2 is 3>> You let out a slow breath, feeling warm all over as you examine the book Sir Oren gifted you. It is difficult not to remember the genuine warmth in his gaze or the soft smile that pulled at the corners of his lips and your own pull up into a wide grin. Perhaps the next time you see him, you should thank him properly for his gift. <<elseif $chp3_24_a3_2 is 4>> Your throat tightens and you feel a prickling sensation behind your eyes. Blinking, you swallow, forcing down the rush of emotions that threaten to overwhelm you. No one has ever been this kind to you before and it leaves you gasping for air. You do not know how you can ever thank Sir Oren for while his gesture was an act of kindness, to you, it means far more than that. <</if>> Turning open the cover of the book about the<<if $chp2_bookchoice is 1>> rise and fall of the different leaders<<elseif $chp2_bookchoice is 2>> religious practices throughout the ages<<elseif $chp2_bookchoice is 3>> historic warfare<</if>>, you begin to read. [[Next.|chp3_24_a3_2b]]

<<if $chp2_bookchoice is 1>> You know that there have been a number of leaders that have governed the different regions throughout the years, but the book before you seems to go in detail about the most recent leaders as well. You frown, taking note of the leaders from Vinia, Cyre and even Ishari listed in the book. <<linkreplace "Learn about the leader that came before King Erlan." t8n>>You flip through the pages, until you find a section detailing the life of King Eion. A portrait of the man has been included, revealing a man wearing heavy armour. Reading through the contents below the portrait, you come to learn that King Eion was a distant cousin to King Erlan and died in battle. He had no heirs and so the throne was passed to King Erlan's father and then, to King Erlan. You have not spent much time learning about the hierarchy of Cyre, though you cannot help but wonder if the Blood Guard would have ever existed if King Eion did not die. As you continue to read, you find a page ripped out. Curiously, the section seemed to deal with King Eion's wife, a woman who you cannot be certain of as any evidence of her existence seems to have been destroyed.<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Learn about King Ishtar, Queen Elora's father." t8n>>You do not know much about King Ishtar or what happened to him, only that Queen Elora was quite young when he died. You read through the pages, learning small things about King Ishtar. He grew up under his mother's guidance, his own father succumbing to an illness at a early age. He went on to travel the seas, where he came across Sovereign Amera and they were later married once he ascended to the throne. Your eyebrows furrow when you begin to read the circumstances surrounding his death. The author makes note that King Ishtar was out hunting, accompanied by his guards and during this time, he was struck by an arrow. None of the guards were to blame, though the suspect was never apprehended. Reading over the section again, you frown, wondering if it truly was an accident or had been something more sinister.<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Learn about the leaders of Ishari" t8n>>You left Ishari at a young age and your knowledge of the region is limited to what you can remember. The leadership in Ishari seems to vest in a king and as you read through the different leaders, you learn that this was not always the case. When Ishari and Cyre were still one kingdom, there had been leaders appointed to govern Ishari as the home of the Ancient Ones. Reading further, it appears that Ishari was treated as the religious capital of Cyre, with many of the priests and priestesses guiding the rulers at the time. Mama was supposed to be a Priestess of Ehulla and you wonder if she ever had a similar role?<</linkreplace>> <<elseif $chp2_bookchoice is 2>> In most regions, there has been an understanding of the beginnings and ends of civilisations. While you did not have the best education growing up, you knew enough from the conversations around you that there are four main ages that will be come. The current age, the Age of Aedes is known to be the third age in the endless cycle that all must love through. <<linkreplace "Read more about the Age of Aedes, the current age." t8n>>The Age of Aedes is known to be the third and current age. As you read through the pages, you discover that during this age, the divine laws of the deities have been forgotten leading to many becoming corrupt with greed and selfishness. There will be more wars fought between leaders and people will begin to divide the land amongst them. Reading over this, you find your mind returning to what has been happening in Cyre and Ishari. You think about the viciousness of the Blood Guard and the greed of those like Virion. How much is already predetermined? The thought leaves you with more questions than answers and you feel a swirl of nervousness at the idea that your actions might not matter in the end.<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Read about the ages that came before the Age of Aedes." t8n>>Before the Age of Aedes, there were two other cycles that came - the Age of Lotar and the Age of Osyn. In both of these times, the deities were said to have lived amongst people, helping and guiding them with their skills and knowledge from the stars above. According to the book, the Age of Lotar was when many lived for a hundred thousand years and had no need to work. There was no suffering and everyone lived in harmony. By the Age of Osyn, a quarter of the virtue of mortals was corrupted by sinfulness and from what you gather, a quarter is corrupted with each passing cycle.<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Read about the final age, the Age of Cadon." t8n>>The Age of Cadon is the final age of the cycle. It appears to be the cycle when the life-cycle of people have diminished greatly and where corruption and cruelty reigns. You frown, reading about the author's warnings of the destruction and suffering that will emerge during this age. It seems to come to an eventual end when the deities return in order to destroy the mortals to start anew. Reading further, you discover that at the end of the Age of Cadon, the cycle seems to start from the beginning, with the Age of Lotar where the deities will once again live amongst people and govern them with virtue. Your eyebrows furrow, pondering the implications of the the ages and the cycles. If everything comes to an end only to simply start over, do your choices even matter? <</linkreplace>> <<elseif $chp2_bookchoice is 3>> It was difficult to come across any books on strategies and warfare in Salt Bay. Knowing now that Ahlf was the General of the Blood Guard only makes the irony of never learning to fight, worse. You eagerly flip through the pages, desperate to learn more about the warfare and weapons used throughout the different regions. <<linkreplace "Read about the different warfare tactics." t8n>>You turn to a section detailing the different types of warfare. It seems that different tactics are used, the most common being offensive, defensive and deceptive attacks. There are a range of other factors that will influence the choice of tactics used by an army such as the size of the army, the location of the battle and even the types of weapons used. Most of the terms are new to you and while you grasp the basic positions and manoeuvres listed, you realise that you still lack the practical understanding of how to implement the types of tactics explained in the book.<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Learn about the glowing weapons of the Ishari." t8n>>This section of the book seems to focus solely on the weapons of the Ishari people. From the sketches in the book, it appears to be ordinary spears and swords, with blunt-force weapons like maces and axes too. But the description below each sketch goes on to explain the strange glow of the weapons and that it appears only warriors who have been blessed by the Ancient Ones are able to wield them. Frowing, you learn that the weapons glow with a heat that comes not from fire but from the metal itself. The weapons are said to slice through flesh and bone with ease and any who are unlucky to come into contact with the blades are often left fatally wounded. As you continue to read, you learn that the weapons have become rare for many have been lost or stolen during the years.<</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Turn to a page detailing the Blood Guard's efficiency." t8n>>You swallow, your mouth dry as you find a section of the book detailing the Blood Guard and their ruthless efficiency. Even without the book, you have firsthand experience to attest to their savage ways of dealing with their opponents. What captures your attention is the origin of the Blood Guard. While they were formed to deal with the war against Ishari, you learn that the formation of the Blood Guard had started a few years before the war took place. It appears that Cyre had need for an army and you cannot help but question if King Erlan had always planned to go to war.<</linkreplace>> <</if>> You look up, stretching your arms as you glance at the window of your chamber. The sky is dark and you realise that you have been reading for much longer than you thought. With a tired sigh, you close the book and place it on a nearby dresser. While there is still more for you to learn, you cannot deny that you have gleaned valuable information from the book. [[Next.|chp3_25]]

<div class="heading">Chapter Four</div><div class="borderstyle">p</div> <div class="timeline">Age of Aedes, Year 544, Spring</div> <center>[[Begin.|chp4_start]]</center> <center><<linkreplace "Trigger warnings." t8n>>Violence, vulgar language, warfare, death, drowning, descriptions of blood, mentions of pregnancy.<</linkreplace>></center>

<<set $location to "The Grand Council Room, Aspal.">><div class="timeline">The Grand Council Room, Aspal.</div> Sweat drips down your back. The air is humid, despite the late hour. You swallow, your mouth dry as you scan the room. It has been a few hours since Virion departed as quickly as he had arrived and since then, those who were deemed important enough were corralled into a chamber that Queen Elora explained to be the Grand Council Room. A long table sits along the centre of the room, the wood deep and red. Queen Elora sits at the fore, her hair now tumbling down her back in wild curls. Beside her, Sir Oren stands at attention, his eyebrows furrowed. You let your eyes drift over the rest of the gathered group, made up of councillors and guards. There is a quiet panic that has settled over everyone, the rush of nerves from Virion's arrival with the Blood Guard. It is difficult to keep up with the discussions around you and glancing to your side, you find Prince Irus silent. He stares at the table, unspeaking despite the threat that looms over his head. As for you, you feel... <<set $chp4_start to 0>> [[...terrified at the thought of facing Virion and the Blood Guard again.|chp4_1][$chp4_start +=1]] [[...sick with anxiety, unable to silence your mind at the thought of what could happen.|chp4_1][$chp4_start +=2]] [[...determined to find a solution to this problem.|chp4_1][$chp4_start +=3]] [[...furious at the thought that Virion marched to Vinia with the Blood Guard to issue threats and ultimatums.|chp4_1][$chp4_start +=4]] [[...oddly numb, unable to conjure any strong feelings for what has happened.|chp4_1][$chp4_start +=5]]

<<if $chp3_24_a3_3 is 1>> Though you may have started out as strangers, Prince Irus has fast become someone you can call a friend. Your lips tug into a wide smile as you turn over the ring in your palm, suddenly warm with the thought that no matter what happens, you are no longer alone. It is an unfamiliar feeling to have a friend, one that has travelled with you for so long. While it has only been a few weeks, it feels like you have known Prince Irus for much longer than that. <<elseif $chp3_24_a3_3 is 2>> Your face grows hot as you examine the ring. Swallowing, you turn the ring over your palm, trembling against the heat that runs up your fingers and causes your breath to hitch. When Prince Irus gave you the ring, it had come as a surprise and yet, you go over it in your mind. Was it simply a gesture of friendship or did it mean more? You stare at the ring, your questions only leading to more warmth to course through you. <<elseif $chp3_24_a3_3 is 3>> It is wrong to enjoy Prince Irus' presence this much and yet, you find that you cannot stop yourself. As you turn the ring over your palm, you wonder what else the ring might suggest? You smile, remembering the feel of his gaze on you and the heat of his fingers as he pressed the ring into you hand, your heart quickening at the thought of what can come out of your growing bond. <<elseif $chp3_24_a3_3 is 4>> The ring is cool against your skin and as your turn it over in your palm, you find it difficult to breathe over the lump that forms in your throat. You have not received a gift this valuable before and yet, Prince Irus seemed to have no hesitation when he gave it to you. You smile, grateful for his kindness and even more grateful for his companionship over the past few weeks. <</if>> As you study the ring, you note the high quality of its design. You slip it over your fingers, testing its fit until you slip it over your index finger. It fits well and you examine the gold metal against your hand. <<set $ring_wear to false>> [[You decide to wear the ring.|chp3_24_a3_3b][$ring_wear to true]] [[You choose not to wear the ring.|chp3_24_a3_3b]]

<<if $ring_wear is false>> After a moment, you slip the ring off of your finger, returning it to the small box it was secured in. You do not have the need to wear rings, especially not when you are unused to them. In Salt Bay, jewellery was reserved for special occasions and the wealthy. You were neither wealthy nor did you own any jewellery that was not made of wood or copper. While you appreciate Prince Irus' gift, you find that it would be best kept safe in its box than on your finger. <<elseif $ring_wear is true>> You decide to keep the ring on your finger, turning your hand so that you can examine the gleaming gold against your skin. A smile tugs at your lips, the ring serving as a reminder that your relationship with Prince Irus has come far in the short time that you have known him. You are grateful for his gift and what it might symbolise. <</if>> Glancing away from the ring, you realise that the sky outside the window has darkened considerably. It is later than you thought and you begin to place the box of the ring into a small drawer of the dresser you have been given. Regardless of your decision, it is clear that you and Prince Irus have become much closer since fleeing Salt Bay and for that you are thankful. [[Next.|chp3_25]]

Your cousin stands alone to the side of the room, closer to where a table has been laid out with goblets and pitchers. He wears a loose robe, a mustard gold that brings out the hue of his dark eyes. Standing alone, Zikar's gaze sweeps across the guests before he notices you. A grin pulls at the corner of his lips and he waves to you. Making your way across the banquet hall, you move to stand beside him. His dark hair has been oiled and smoothed back tonight, though you catch sight of a few strands that seem to stick out at the sides. "$name," he greets. His eyes are alight with mirth. "I was wondering where you were." You raise an eyebrow. "You were?" Zikar laughs, slinging his arm over your shoulder.<<if $height is "tall">> It's a little awkward with Zikar being shorter than you, but he seems to manage well enough.<<else>> His arm is heavy and warm and you're surprised by genuine affection in his smile.<</if>> "I didn't ask to come to the banquet hall just for the free food," he laughs. "We barely know each other, $name, and as cousins, we should remedy that." [[Next.|chp3_36d_1]]

Zikar gestures at the banquet hall with his free hand. His eyes are warm, and the smirk on his lips hint at unknown mischief. You follow his gaze, noting the guests before you. Some laugh loudly while others stand in huddled groups, whispering as they glance at those around them. It is an odd sight to behold and unlike anything you have ever experienced before. "I heard that this was to help your Prince," Zikar says, breaking the silence. You blink, gazing up at him. "Yes, the councillors are here tonight." Zikar turns to face you, his dark eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "I don't understand why you're still helping him, $name. You don't owe Prince Irus anything. Baba and Ama want you to come and live with us." His words take you by surprise and you blink, trying to make sense of it. When you fled Salt Bay, you had no one but Prince Irus. You never expected to find your mother's family in Vinia, but now that you find that your choices are not as limited as they had been. <<set $chp3_36d_1 to 0>> [["I cannot abandon Prince Irus now," you answer. "He needs my help."|chp3_36d_2][$chp3_36d_1 +=1]] [["My father wanted me to help Prince Irus and I will," you reply.|chp3_36d_2][$chp3_36d_1 +=2]] <<if $irusRom gte 15>> [["I care about Prince Irus," you breathe. "I want to help him."|chp3_36d_2][$chp3_36d_1 +=3]]<</if>> [["Helping him is the right thing to do," you respond. "He will make a better ruler than his uncle."|chp3_36d_2][$chp3_36d_1 +=4]] [["If Prince Irus fails, it will mean that his uncle and the Blood Guard can attack Vinia next and any other region they want," you say. "I cannot just stand by and let it happen."|chp3_36d_2][$chp3_36d_1 +=5]]

<<if $chp3_36d_1 is 1>> "I cannot abandon Prince Irus now," you answer. "He needs my help." Zikar huffs out a breath, frowning at your answer. You turn to look at him, expecting some form of rebuke, but it does not come. Running a hand over his face, Zikar turns to stare at the rest of the guests. A thoughful look crosses his face and whatever he thinks, it does not seem to sit well with him. "Loyal to a fault, eh?" Zikar asks. "Ama is happy that you're helping him, you know. She thinks that Cyre and Ishari should go back to being one kingdom." "Prince Irus needs all the help he can get," you reply. "Yes, yes," Zikar grumbles. "He needs help. I hear this enough from Ama at home. Fine, I suppose that I can give him a chance too." You begin to smile in response, but Zikar shakes his head at your expression. "Do not mistake this for the start of a friendship between us, $name," Zikar explains. "I'll be watching him very closely. You never know what he might do and as your cousin, it is my duty to keep you from trusting people so foolishly." <<elseif $chp3_36d_1 is 2>> "My father wanted me to help Prince Irus and I will," you reply. Zikar glances at you, his dark eyes filling with something akin to empathy. You look away, not wanting to see the sorrow in his dark eyes at the knowledge that your father is dead. Zikar lets out a soft breath, turning to face the rest of the guests. A small frown pulls at his lips, his expression softening. "I am sorry about his passing, $name," Zikar breathes. "I... If I ever lost Baba or Mama, I do not know how I would cope." You nudge his shoulder. "Perhaps you could try helping an exiled prince flee his kingdom?" A laugh escapes Zikar's lips, the sound loud and booming. A few guests glance in your direction, but turn away after realising that neither you nor Zikar are anyone important. "Perhaps I will give him a chance then," Zikar says, after a moment. "After all, I hear enough from Ama about how brave you are being." "You sound jealous," you comment. "I am not jealous," Zikar scoffs. "I am just tired of hearing our grandmother sing you praises just because you're helping some spoilt prince." "I thought you were going to give him a chance?" you ask. Zikar shakes his head. "I lied. I cannot bring myself to act as foolishly as you." Despite his words, there is a hint of a smile against his lips and you find yourself mirroring it. <<elseif $chp3_36d_1 is 3>> "I care about Prince Irus," you breathe. "I want to help him." Your voice catches in your throat but your words are no less determined. Thinking about Prince Irus, about the closeness that has come in the little time that you shared together, causes heat to spread through you. The idea of leaving him to face the challenges that wait ahead alone, causes your heart to clench painfully. Zikar's eyes narrow at your face, his eyes taking in your expression before they widen. "You //like// him!" You blink, surprised by his words. "What?" Zikar turns, staring at the guests in wonder. He murmurs something to himself, too soft for you to hear but whatever it is, it seems to bring him out of his thoughts. "I knew that there was something going on between you," Zikar states. "I mean, all those looks and the whole helping him reclaim his throne, it makes sense." "That's not the reason I'm helping him," you huff. "He'd make a better king than his uncle." "Right," Zikar laughs. "A better king. That's the reason." <<elseif $chp3_36d_1 is 4>> "Helping him is the right thing to do," you respond. "He will make a better ruler than his uncle." Zikar lets out a breath, his eyes shifting towards the the rest of the guests in thought. You study his expression for a while, taking in the way that his eyebrows furrow and the small downturn of his lips. When he glances at you, his gaze appears conflicted. "Perhaps he will," Zikar replies. Shaking his head, he snorts. "Ama thinks he will and she thinks that you're doing the right thing." "And you, what do you think?" you question. Zikar shrugs, running his hand through his hair. "I do not know, $name. You are not a fool, as much as I say you are." "I do not think you've ever said that," you interrupt, frowning. He turns to you with a wide grin. "Well, you are a fool." He nudges you with his shoulder. "But you have lived in Cyre and you know Prince Irus better than I do. Perhaps he is the better choice to rule Cyre." "He is," you emphasise. Zikar sighs, "Fine, I suppose that I can give him a chance." <<elseif $chp3_36d_1 is 5>> "If Prince Irus fails, it will mean that his uncle and the Blood Guard can attack Vinia next and any other region they want," you say. "I cannot just stand by and let it happen." Zikar lets out a scoff. "You are not the appointed protector of all the realms, $name. You do not need to do anything." You frown at Zikar. Your cousin stares at you, his dark eyebrow raised as if waiting for your protests. "The Blood Guard destroyed the only home I knew after leaving Ishari," you retort. "I saw what they did to their own people, Zikar. I watched my father die. I will not just stand by and let them continue their cruelty, not if there is a way to stop it." "I didn't mean-" Zikar begins, but you wave him off. "They are ruthless," you breathe. "They kill anyone they lay eyes on. If Virion remains in power, he will no doubt go after those closest to him. Vinia may be neutral for now, but how long can it remain so when the Blood Guard start attacking?" Zikar groans. "I do not know, $name. But we have the Vinian Guard and they can protect us. They can protect you too. You do not need to do more than you already have." "I have to try," you reply. "You must understand that." Zikar sighs, "I suppose then if you're going to be this foolish, I'll have to give your Prince a chance." <</if>> [[Next.|chp3_36d_3]]

You turn away from Zikar, your conversation easing into silence. It is strange knowing that the man beside you is your cousin and yet, he treats you as warmly as if you have been a part of his family for years, not weeks. Growing up with Ahlf meant that you knew no one else but your parents. Your grandmother and uncle were kind and welcoming to you, but Zikar is almost endearing in his brash closeness. As you gaze at Zikar's profile, you take in the subtle details that mark him as family. He shares a resemble with your uncle and his eyes are as dark as your grandmother's. Zikar must sense your stare, because he turns to look at you with a curious look. "What is it?" he asks. <<set $chp3_36d_3 to 0>><<set $zikar_affection to true>> [["I just wanted to tell you that I am grateful to have met you," you answer with a smile.|chp3_36d_4][$chp3_36d_3 +=1, $zikarRel +=5]] [["I... I have never known what it is like to have siblings, but I'd imagine it would be something like what I have with you," you murmur.|chp3_36d_4][$chp3_36d_3 +=2, $zikarRel +=5]] [["We still do not know each other that well," you reply. "I would like to change that."|chp3_36d_4][$chp3_36d_3 +=3, $zikarRel +=5]] [["We barely know each other, Zikar and until we do, I would appreciate it if you did not act overly familiar with me," you respond.|chp3_36d_4][$chp3_36d_3 +=4, $zikar_affection to false]]

<<if $chp3_36d_3 is 1>> "I just wanted to tell you that I am grateful to have met you," you answer with a smile. A teasing expression flickers through his gaze and Zikar grins at you. "Well, of course you should be grateful. I do not talk to just anybody, you know. Consider yourself one of the lucky ones, $name." A bubble of laughter threatens to escape you, but you manage to hold the sound in. Zikar's grin softens, until you catch a hint of warmth in his eyes. You did not expect to find a cousin who would find his way by your side and yet, you are suddenly grateful for Zikar's presence. "I meant what I said," you respond. Zikar draws you close to his side, smiling. "I know. And for what it's worth, I am glad that I met you too, even if you did walk into me." "That was your fault," you huff. Zikar laughs, "If it makes you feel better, you can tell people that but we both know the truth, $name." <<elseif $chp3_36d_3 is 2>> "I... I have never known what it is like to have siblings, but I'd imagine it would be something like what I have with you," you murmur. Zikar's eyes widen at your words and you suddenly fear that you have been too forward with him. He is your cousin and while he jokes with you often, there is a niggling doubt in the back of your mind that he does not feel as strongly about you as you do for him. "I..." Zikar mumbles, before shaking his head. "$name, I do not know what to say." "You do not have to say anything," you say. "I did not mean to overwhelm you. I understand if you feel differently." Zikar frowns. "What do you mean? Of course I do not feel differently." "You do not?" you ask. "I have always wanted a sibling too," he replies. "But it never happened and all I had were my friends but they're all married and Adar, who has sworn off marriage and children, now has a child and a husband and it feels like I have been left behind to drink tea with Ama." His rambling elicits a laugh from you and the sound seems to catch Zikar's attention. He flushes and rubs the back of his neck. "What I am trying to say is that I have come to enjoy spending time with you $name," he explains. "It's fun to rile you up and constantly point out your many flaws." "Flaws?" you ask, frowning. Zikar grins. "See, just like that. It's good to have a<<if $heir is "son">> brother<<else>> sister<</if>> like you." <<elseif $chp3_36d_3 is 3>> "We still do not know each other that well," you reply. "I would like to change that." Zikar seems surprised by your words, but after a moment, a smile stretches across his face. He nudges you with the side of his shoulder, the bump friendly and full of warmth. You look at him, returning his wide smile. "I would like that too, $name," Zikar replies. He gestures to the banquet hall. "I did not come here just to help Baba and his shop. I wanted to spend more time with you." His words are sincere and draws a warm feeling that spreads over you. Your cousin catches your gaze, his smile softening slightly as he takes in your expression. "There are other cousins you know, from my mother's side," Zikar explains. "But they are all much older than me and whenever they see me, all they can ask is when am I getting married and how will I support my children if I keep gambling with dice games-" "You gamble?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. Zikar grins. "I am only the best gambler you will meet. But what I am trying to say is that I am excited to finally have someone who is not remotely old or boring." You snort out a laugh. "I am glad to be of service then." <<elseif $chp3_36d_3 is 4>> "We barely know each other, Zikar and until we do, I would appreciate it if you did not act overly familiar with me," you respond. Your cousin's eyebrows furrow and he draws away from you, wearing a look that seems to shift between hurt and remorse. Despite how he feels, you know how you feel. Discovering that you had a family in Vinia was something that you still needed to process and having Zikar around only made it more difficult to understand how you felt. "I am sorry, $name," Zikar mumbles. "I did not mean to make you uncomfortable." You shrug, letting out a breath. "I have not had a family before, apart from my parents and for a long time, I did not even know that you existed." Zikar nods. "I suppose I can be a bit much. Ama tells me it is why I am still unmarried." You raise an eyebrow at Zikar and he flushes. "That is not the reason," he retorts, almost defensive. "Anyways, what I am trying to say is that I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable, $name. I will try to give you more space, going forward." You nod at Zikar. "Thank you." <</if>> [[Next.|chp3_36d_5]]

You lapse into silence once more, but it is the curse that leaves Zikar's lips that draws your attention. You turn to look at him, but find that his gaze is on an attendant at the far end of the banquet hall. The attendant struggles to carry a tray of sweetmeats that remind you of the ones that your grandmother served you. "What is happening?" you ask. Zikar turns to you, frowning. "Ellie's attendants clearly do not know that the sweetmeats must be brought out last or they will become soggy in this heat." He grumbles. "I am sorry, $name, but I have to stop this disaster or Baba will never let me hear the end of it." You nod at Zikar as he rushes off in the direction of the attendant, leaving you alone once more. [[Next.|chp3_banquet_landing]]

<div class="back"><<link "Return" $return>><</link>></div> <center><span style="color: goldenrod;">If you've spotted any bugs while playing the game, please report it through this <a href="https://forms.gle/Ufdysv4nzQQWo6je6">form.</a>.</span></center>

<<if $chp4_start is 1>> Fear lodges itself in your throat, the bitter taste of bile threatening to spill past your lips. You tremble where you sit and you dig your nails into your knees beneath the table. As you stare at the faces around you, all you can think about is King Virion and the Blood Guard he commands. They are waiting to attack, to wage war upon you and Prince Irus, without a care for the citizens in Aspal. You think about the innocent lives that are in danger and then, you think about the family you have only just discovered. Your heartbeat picks up its pace, as blood rushes past your ears. It is difficult to know what to expect and the longer you sit and listen to the discussions around you, the harder it becomes to ignore the unease that wriggles in your stomach. <<elseif $chp4_start is 2>> Your stomach twists and lurches as you struggle to breathe. It is hard to think over the thudding of your heartbeat and the way your nails dig into the armrests of your chair. The words being thrown over you by the others sound too loud, too useless as you think about the fate that awaits you beyond the gates of Aspal. Virion is there, waiting to kill Prince Irus and then, perhaps, he will kill you and the others. You witnessed the bloodshed in Salt Bay and now, you fear that you will be forced to relive the horrors once more. You swallow, feeling the uneasy twist of your gut and struggle to suck in a breath to dispel your nerves. But it does not help and you fear that nothing will. <<elseif $chp4_start is 3>> You are rattled, but so are the others. Still, you cannot allow yourself to panic. Everyone knew that this was a possibility when Queen Elora offered sanctuary to Prince Irus and you. It would have been naive to believe that Virion would forget about Prince Irus or that he would be content in allowing him to gather support from those who pose a risk to his rule. Swallowing, you force your thoughts to calm. Worrying over what could happen will not help you or the others who will be affected by Virion and the Blood Guard. You need to come up with a plan that will keep Prince Irus safe, whilst keeping the rest of Vinia free from waging a war against Cyre. <<elseif $chp4_start is 4>> Your fingers dig into the armrests of your chair at the memory of Virion's arrival. Rage simmers beneath your skin, like a vat of hot oil that threatens to bubble over. How dare Virion think that he could come to Vinia and issue demands as if he was its ruler? The more you think about Virion and the Blood Guard he brought as a show of power, the more frustrated you become. Does he not care about the innocent lives of those he threatens by making declarations such as he had? Your teeth grind together, the swell of your anger made worse by the heat of the room. You want to lash out at those discussing options and tell them that the only enemy is Virion and the Blood Guard that wait outside the gates of Aspal. <<elseif $chp4_start is 5>> A hollow numbess has filled you since the departure of Virion. Despite the others around you who peer at each other with furrowed brows and twisted lips, you cannot bring yourself to feel much more than the emptiness that has gripped you. Perhaps your mind can no longer comprehend the horrors for what you have experienced, or perhaps, it is simply shock. Still, you swipe at your brow, the heat unbearable and the room too small to seat this many people. Virion is here and the Blood Guard are undoubtedly readying themselves for a war. You know that many face death and worse that you and Prince Irus might be forced to flee once more. You let out a long breath, too tired to think about your lack of emotions and instead, turn your gaze over the rest of the room. <</if>> [[Next.|chp4_2]]

The chatter around you grows unbearably loud, with the councillors speaking over each other and the guards who keep reaching for their blades as if at any moment, the Blood Guard will emerge from behind the shadows. "Enough!" The voice is loud, booming and comes from Sovereign Amera. A hush falls over the room and everyone turns towards Queen Elora's mother. She stands tall, her eyes shifting over the gathered faces before settling on Prince Irus. A breath escapes her and she turns to Queen Elora. "We need to make a decision now," Sovereign Amera states. "Bickering like children will not stop Virion from marching back with the full force of the Blood Guard." Queen Elora sighs. "Yes. I suppose we cannot debate any longer. Decisions must be made." [[Next.|chp4_3]]

<<if $councillor_support lt 3>>Most of the councillors seem in favour of complying with Virion's demands and the thought that Prince Irus has not done enough to garner their favour, weighs heavily on you.<<elseif $councillor_support gte 3>>Most of the councillors seem outraged at Virion's demands, perhaps rankled that he thought that he could simply interrupt a banquet and get what he wanted.<</if>> You glance at Prince Irus once more and notice that he is silent, his eyes focussed on the table before you. If there is a time to be a leader, it is now, you realise. <<set $chp4_3 to 0>> [["Irus, you need to say something to gain their support," you whisper.|chp4_4][$chp4_3 +=1]] [["I know that you are scared, but if you want to stop your uncle, you will need to show others that you are the rightful ruler," you say.|chp4_4][$chp4_3 +=2]] <<if $irus_Rom gte 15 and $irusRel gte 65>> [["I believe in you," you murmur, reaching for his hand. "The others will too."|chp4_4][$chp4_3 +=3]]<</if>> [["You have to say something," you hiss. "Or they will turn their backs on you the moment your uncle returns."|chp4_4][$chp4_3 +=4]]

<<if $chp4_3 is 1>> "Irus, you need to say something to gain their support," you whisper. Prince Irus startles at the sound of your voice, his blue eyes shifting towards you. You frown at him, taking in his fearful expression. Around you, the others continue speaking of plans and ways to combat the threat Virion poses. But Prince Irus remains quiet, watching you with wide eyes. "What can I say?" he asks, turning to look at the others. "This is my fault, $name. My uncle is here because of me. I have put everyone at risk by simply being here." "He would have found you wherever you went," you respond. "Perhaps," he sighs. "But it would have been better if he found me alone than with others. Now, they are all in danger because of me." <<elseif $chp4_3 is 2>> "I know that you are scared, but if you want to stop your uncle, you will need to show others that you are the rightful ruler," you say. Prince Irus scoffs, the sound derisive as he stares at his hands. Your eyebrows furrow and you take in his expression. There is a tight smile on his lips, a bitterness that echoes in the way his blue eyes drift over the table before moving to your own. "Am I even the rightful ruler?" Prince Irus asks. "All I have managed to do is put others in danger. This is only happening because I thought that I could secure an alliance. All it has done is put the safety of innocents at risk." You hesitate, taking in the fear in his eyes. "I know that this is difficult, but blaming yourself will not help. Your uncle made the decision to threaten Queen Elora with war." "But without me, there would be no threat, $name," Prince Irus sighs. <<elseif $chp4_3 is 3>> "I believe in you," you murmur, reaching for his hand. "The others will too." Your fingers brush against Prince Irus' knuckles, the heat of his skin pressing into your palm. He lets out a soft breath, his eyes moving to where you grip his fingers in your palm. For a moment, he simply stares at your hand against his. You begin to think that your touch is unwanted and pull away, but as you do, Prince Irus grips your hand tightly. "Your belief in me is unwarranted," Prince Irus murmurs. "I am afraid that I am not as deserving of it as you think." You frown, forcing him to look at you. "If I did not believe in you, I would not say it. Please, Irus, you cannot doubt yourself. Not when others see what I see." He sighs, turning to you with a bitter smile. "Maybe they do not see what you do." <<elseif $chp4_3 is 4>> "You have to say something," you hiss. "Or they will turn their backs on you the moment your uncle returns." Prince Irus stiffens beside you, his lips twisting into a frown. You turn to him, your gaze hardening. It is not enough to attend a banquet and act like a prince in front of others, he also has to show them that he is worth supporting. Sulking in a corner will not help their assessment of him. "They have already turned their backs on me," Prince Irus mutters.<<if $councillor_support lt 3>> "Look, they're already thinking over my uncle's offer."<<elseif $councillor_support gt 2>> "They might seem like they support me now, but when they are faced with war, they will surely take my uncle's offer."<</if>> "Then that is why you must show them why they should support you," you reply. "You cannot just give up now." "I am not giving up," he retorts. Running a hand over his face, he lets out a shaky breath. "But forgive me if I cannot help but feel if this is my fault." <</if>> [[Next.|chp4_5]]

<<if $banquet_oren is false>>Your conversation with Prince Irus is interrupted when a councillor with dark hair, a man you have come to learn as being Lord Redall, speaks.<<else>>Your conversation with Prince Irus is interrupted when Lord Redall begins to speak, his grey eyes on Queen Elora.<</if>> "There is only one option, Your Majesty," he says. "King Virion wants Prince Irus. He knows that if he wages a war while Prince Irus is behind our walls, he will be justified in the deaths caused. But if the Prince is gone, it would be harder to convince his supporters that an attack is warranted." You glance at Prince Irus, suddenly afraid that he might be forced to leave Vinia. Prince Irus' lips press into a thin line, but he does not reveal the fear he seems to harbour. Queen Elora raises an eyebrow at Lord Redall. "Are you suggesting I turn my back on Prince Irus?" "No," Lord Redall replies. "If anything, I am saying that you should help him escape." [[Next.|chp4_6]]

A series of murmurs spreads through the room, but Queen Elora's eyes are on Prince Irus. She stares at him, clearly thinking over Lord Redall's suggestion. But it is Soveriegn Amera who speaks. "We are a neutral kingdom," she states. "We cannot aid Prince Irus without compromising our stance." "Enough," Queen Elora replies. "We will put it to a vote." She glances around the table, her gaze lingering on you and Prince Irus. "Those in favour of allying with Prince Irus, make it known now." <<if $councillor_support lt 3>> While there are a few hands raised, the majority of the councillors, including Sovereign Amera keep their hands firmly at the sides. A heavy silence weighs over the room and you swallow, suddenly aware that you and Prince Irus might have to flee once more. It becomes apparent that the councillors have not voted in favour of helping you. "It is settled then," Queen Elora murmurs. "I am sorry Prince Irus, but my councillors have made their decision clear. I will give you until tomorrow to decide what you will do." She dismisses the others, until only you and Prince Irus remain behind with Queen Elora. She lets out a breath, her dark eyes finding Prince Irus. "So, I suppose this is it," Prince Irus sighs. Queen Elora frowns. "Do not be ridiculous Iri, it does not suit you." She stands, running her hand over her face. "My councillors might not be swayed but I will not abandon you. Redall was true in his suggestion, you cannot remain here. Not after the vote." "But where will we go?" you ask. Queen Elora glances at you before turning to look at Prince Irus. "Redall has offered to grant you safe passage on his barge. You will leave with him and gather more allies. In the meantime, I will try to convince my councillors to support you." "Allies? Who are these allies?" Prince Irus questions. "The Ishari people of course," Queen Elora responds. <<elseif $councillor_support gt 2>>Most of the councillors raise their hands, including Lord Redall and the other councillors gathered. You let out a breath and you notice a flicker of relief spread through Prince Irus' face. Queen Elora smiles. "Then it is settled. Prince Irus, you will have the full support of the Kingdom of Vinia." She dismisses the others, until only you and Prince Irus remain behind with Queen Elora. She lets out a breath, her dark eyes finding Prince Irus. "Redall was right, Iri," she says. "You cannot remain in Vinia. It would not be safe for you or for my people. Until we find a way to defeat your uncle, you will need to leave Vinia." "But I thought the councillors want to help," you say. Queen Elora nods. "Yes, but we will need more allies to go against the Blood Guard. Redall has offered me a solution to your problem. He will take you and Prince Irus to Ishari. You will need their aid if you ever wish to defeat Virion."<</if>> [[Next.|chp4_7]]

You have not been to Ishari since you were a child and now, confronted with the idea that you will travel back to the home you were forced to flee leaves you feeling unsettled. The memories of smoke and fire, the sounds of death come rushing back and you wonder if returning to the place that is at war with Cyre is a good idea. Prince Irus must have the same thoughts as you, because he turns to Queen Elora with a frown. "Ishari? Is it even safe for us to travel there?" Queen Elora looks away. "It is safe enough. Redall has been there before and has made allies with the rebel forces. They will help you, if Redall asks them to." "Why is Lord Redall even helping us?" Prince Irus asks. <<if $codeJoran is true>> "He supports the rebels," you say, remembering what you learnt with Queen Elora. "He has been helping Ishari fight against the Blood Guard for some time." Queen Elora nods. "$name is right. Redall can be trusted, Iri. He will help you and $name get to safety."<<else>> "Redall supports the Ishari rebels," Queen Elora explains. "He has been supplying them with weapons for the past few years. Redall will help you Iri, because he wants to help Ishari as much as he can."<</if>> "When do we leave? How can we leave?" Prince Irus asks. "My uncle will surely try to stop us." "Redall has a small barge at the harbour. You will leave before dawn," Queen Elora answers. "As for your uncle, Sir Oren has made certain that all the gates are guarded. Your uncle is waiting outside the city walls. He will not know you left from the harbour until it is too late." You let out a breath, the thought of returning to Ishari leaving you... <<set $chp4_7 to 0>> [[...eager to return to Ishari, despite the circumstances.|chp4_8][$chp4_7 +=1]] [[...apprehensive about returning to Ishari after so many years.|chp4_8][$chp4_7 +=2]] [[...feeling uncertain about returning to Ishari.|chp4_8][$chp4_7 +=3]] [[...sad that you will have to leave your family and friends behind.|chp4_8][$chp4_7 +=4]] [[...anxious about your journey ahead, but also determined to gain more allies from your old home.|chp4_8][$chp4_7 +=5]]

<<if $chp4_7 is 1>> There is a thrill of excitement that works its way through you. Despite the situation you find yourself in, the idea of returning to Ishari has left you feeling excited. You were too young to remember much of Ishari when you fled and now, you will get the chance to finally return. Not many who leave ever get the opportunity to return to Ishari and you will not squander your chance. You wonder if returning to Ishari will unearth any buried memories of Mama. It has been so long since you have thought about the warm sun and the coastal breeze of your old home, where it had only been you and Mama. Even though you know this journey will be dangerous, you are looking forward to returning to the home that you were forced to flee. <<elseif $chp4_7 is 2>> It has been so long since you last were in Ishari. You were born there, yet, you have spent more time in Cyre than you ever did in Ishari. A gnawing trepidation fills you at the thought of returning. You are uncertain if Ishari is safe enough for you and for Prince Irus or if you will even be welcomed there. Your Cyre father and Ishari mother has left your heritage murky and strange, never fully one or the other. Though you wonder if you will be treated any different from Prince Irus when you arrive. You do not know much of the Ishari customs or the dialect you often heard Mama speaking when you were young. Doubt begins to creep into your mind and you swallow, beginning to dread returning to Ishari. <<elseif $chp4_7 is 3>> There are so many things happening at once that is is difficult to process the idea that you will be travelling to Ishari. You left when you were still so young and the thought of returning after so many years has left you conflicted. Dangers await you in Ishari. You are certain that avoiding a confrontation with the Blood Guard and with Virion will not be as easy as simply leaving. Will you even recognise Ishari when you arrive? You do not know what to think, your mind working furiously over the possibilities of what might happen. You sigh, exhausted and suddenly wishing that there was someone who could give you the answers that you are searching for. <<elseif $chp4_7 is 4>> You know that helping Prince Irus comes at a price, yet, you cannot help the bitter thought that the price is always having to leave your family behind. First, it had been Ahlf and now, your maternal family. You frown, the knowledge that you might not see them for a long time, tugging at your heart. It has only been a few weeks, yet you are reluctant to leave them so soon. You wish that there was another way, other than being forced to flee again. But you know that the alternative is facing the Blood Guard and Virion. And perhaps, when they realise that you are no longer in Aspal, they will follow you, leaving your family safely behind. <<elseif $chp4_7 is 5>> The nerves that fill you, threaten to swallow you whole. You let out a shaky breath, fearful of what is to come and knowing that once you leave, you can never turn back. There is a lot to be said about fleeing from your enemy, but what comes to the forefront of your thoughts is that neither you nor Prince Irus have enough power alone to face the Blood Guard or his uncle. It is clear that the Royal Vinian Guard is not enough to take on the entire of the Blood Guard, not if they are to protect the citizens of Vinia as well. No, it is clear that you will need more allies and perhaps allying with the rebels in Ishari is exactly what Prince Irus needs in order to defeat Virion. After all, there can be no one who wishes to see the Blood Guard defeated more than the people of Ishari. <</if>> Queen Elora lets out a breath, drawing your attention to her once more. her eyes are tired and there is a frown on her lips, making her appear older and wiser than she had appeared only hours earlier. "You should prepare for the journey. I will send some of my most trusted guards with you both," she explains. "We will defeat Virion and the Blood Guard." [[Next.|chp4_9]]

<<set $location to "The Great Palace, Aspal.">><div class="timeline">The Great Palace of Vinia.</div> It does not take long for you and Prince Irus to be ushered outside. The decision has been made for you, you realise and perhaps, it is the only one that can be taken without further endangering others. You think about what it means for you. It has been years since you were last in Ishari, a home that you can barely remember without conjuring the memories of flames and death. You are so lost in your thoughts that you do not notice Zikar until you bump into him. He lets out a breath, gripping your shoulders to steady you. Glancing at him, you find his dark eyes filled with worry. You are suddenly reminded of the banquet and everything that happened before Virion arrived. Your thoughts turn to <<if $chp3_tender_irus is true>>Prince Irus<<elseif $chp3_tender_elora is true>>Queen Elora<<elseif $chp3_tender_oren is true>> and the moment you shared together.<</if>> But the thoughts are interrupted by Zikar's panicked stare. "Is it true? The Blood Guard will attack us?" he asks. <<set $chp4_9 to 0>> [["I do not know," you admit, suddenly afraid.|chp4_10][$chp4_9 +=1]] [["We have come up with a plan," you explain. "It will hopefully lure the Blood Guard away from Vinia."|chp4_10][$chp4_9 +=2]] [["It will be alright," you assure him, even though you are uncertain. "They will not attack anyone in Aspal."|chp4_10][$chp4_9 +=3]] [["They will not attack anyone," you reply. "The Blood Guard is after Prince Irus, not anyone else."|chp4_10][$chp4_9 +=4]] [["They might," you sigh, dread filling your thoughts.|chp4_10][$chp4_9 +=5]]

<<if $chp4_9 is 1>> "I do not know," you admit, suddenly afraid. Zikar's eyes widen at your words, noticing the furrow of your eyebrows and the fear that must fill your gaze. You look away, unable to hold his gaze when you know that he will remain behind in Aspal. "You do not know?" Zikar asks. "But you were in that discussion for hours. Surely you have come up with some form of plan?" You nod. "There is a plan, but it involves me and Prince Irus to leave Aspal." "Leave Aspal? But where will you go?" Zikar questions, his eyes concerned. "Will it not be more dangerous for you?" "The Blood Guard is after Prince Irus," you answer. "He needs more allies to defeat his uncle and so it has been suggested that we find those allies in Ishari." Zikar grows quiet, a frown making its way against his mouth. He stares at you, as if at any moment, you will tell him that you are only jesting with him. But when you do not, Zikar mutters a curse under his breath. He turns away from you, running his hands through his tangled hair. <<elseif $chp4_9 is 2>> "We have come up with a plan," you explain. "It will hopefully lure the Blood Guard away from Vinia." Zikar lets out a breath, a flicker of relief spreading through his expression. It eases the frown that mars his mouth and the crease that gathers his eyebrows into a furrow. When he looks at you once more, there is a hopeful gleam in his gaze. "What is this plan? How will you lure the Blood Guard away from Vinia?" he asks. "Prince Irus and I will travel to Ishari-" "What?" Zikar interrupts, his voice suddenly loud. He stares at you, his dark eyes wide with shock. You frown at your cousin. "Prince Irus will find allies in Ishari, allies that will be useful to defeat Virion and the Blood Guard." Zikar stares at you as if you have lost all sense. Your frown deepens at his expression, taking note of the way all his worry from earlier returns. He moves away, pacing in front of you as he mutters to himself. Eventually, he draws to a stop, focussing a hard stare at you. <<elseif $chp4_9 is 3>> "It will be alright," you assure him, even though you are uncertain. "They will not attack anyone in Aspal." Zikar lets out a bitter laugh, his head tilting back so that the sound booms across the hallway. When he returns his attention to you, there is a worried gleam in his dark eyes, one that is not easily masked by the grin that tugs at his lips. "If you are trying to reassure me, $name, you will need to be better at lying than that," he replies. "Do not coddle me. I may be a few years younger than you, but I am not a child. Tell me the truth, what will happen?" You stare at Zikar, his usual smile now gone to make for the underlying panic that fills him. It is hard to know what to say, but it is clear that lying to him, especially when you do not know if the Blood Guard will leave is not going to help. "Prince Irus will need to find allies if he wants to stop Virion and the Blood Guard," you say. "So it has been decided that we will travel to Ishari." Zikar frowns at you, his eyes narrowing. You stare at him, suddenly uneasy by the expression on his face. It is not quite angry, but it is almost upset. <<elseif $chp4_9 is 4>> "They will not attack anyone," you reply. "The Blood Guard is after Prince Irus, not anyone else." Zikar scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Of course it is him they are after." You look away, knowing that your cousin speaks the truth. After all, if Prince Irus had not come to Vinia, the people of Aspal might still be safe. Still, if you had not come to Vinia, you never would have discovered a family you never thought you had. It is a difficult thought to come to terms with. "It does not matter now," you say. "The plan is for Prince Irus and me to leave for Ishari." Zikar's eyes widen at your words and he turns to stare at you as if you are speaking in a different language. "You are going to Ishari? What for?" he demands. "Prince Irus needs allies if he wants to defeat his uncle," you explain. <<elseif $chp4_9 is 5>> "They might," you sigh, dread filling your thoughts. At your words, Zikar's shoulders slump. He looks away, a deep breath escaping him. You frown, knowing that lying to him would not have been any better than admitting the truth. Even if Prince Irus leaves for Ishari, there is no guarantee that Virion or the Blood Guard will follow. You could leave and the Kingdom of Vinia would still be at risk. "I see," Zikar sighs. He turns away, pacing before you. "You must have some sort of plan, right?" You nod. "We are to leave for Ishari in the morning." Zikar stops in his steps, turning to face you with wide eyes. A flicker of fear and then, anger flashes through his expression and you stare at him, wondering what he must be thinking. <</if>> "You cannot be this mad, $name," he huffs. "Ishari is not safe for you, not while there is a war going on. Why are you even going along with this plan? You have a family here. You have helped Prince Irus enough. Stay in Aspal with your family, with me. We will keep you safe here." You open your mouth to protest, and as you do, you know it is the truth behind why you are helping Prince Irus. <<set $help_irus to 0>> [["Prince Irus needs my help," you say. "I cannot abandon him now, Zikar."|chp4_11][$help_irus +=1]] <<if $irusRom gte 15>> [["I care deeply about Prince Irus," you respond, thinking of your developing attraction for him. "He needs me, even if you do not think so."|chp4_11][$help_irus +=2]]<</if>> [["I am doing it for my father," you breathe.|chp4_11][$help_irus +=3]] [["If Prince Irus fails then, we are all in danger," you reply. "I am helping him for the good of everyone."|chp4_11][$help_irus +=4]]

<<if $help_irus is 1>> "Prince Irus needs my help," you say. "I cannot abandon him now, Zikar." "And what about your family, $name?" Zikar asks. "We need you too." His words sting, but you hold firm in your decision. Until recently, you did not know that your family existed. It has been Prince Irus and you since you fled Salt Bay and to abandon him now would be cruel. You cannot bring yourself to remain behind, whilst knowing that Prince Irus is out there alone, trying to gain support. "He needs me more, Zikar," you reply. "You know this as much as I do. He cannot do this alone, even if you would like him too." Zikar frowns, looking to the side. "When you say it like that, you make me seem selfish." You quirk an eyebrow at him. "So you understand why I am going then?" "Fine," he sighs. "But you will have to come with me to tell Ama. I do not want to be the one to break her heart." You think of your grandmother and uncle and nod, feeling the early twist of guilt at knowing that you will be leaving them so soon after meeting them. "Alright," you agree. <<elseif $help_irus is 2>> "I care deeply about Prince Irus," you respond, thinking of your developing attraction for him. "He needs me, even if you do not think so." Zikar grumbles, running his hands through his hair. He tugs at the strands as if trying to come to terms with your words and the deeper insinuation of your meaning. "How can you be such a lovestruck fool?" he groans. "I am not being a lovestruck fool," you retort. Zikar narrows his eyes at you, as if trying to determine if you have lost all senses. His scrutiny seems to provide him no answers and he looks away, muttering under his breath. "Fine, go ahead and throw yourself in danger for him," Zikar huffs. "See if I care." You frown, tilting your head. "You sound like you care." "Of course I care," Zikar replies. "You're my cousin and he's the son of a man that started this war against Ishari. I just hope he realises how lucky he is." His words stun you. You blink, as warmth blossoms across your chest at the sincerity in his tone. "Zikar, I-" "Look, at least come with me to tell Ama that you're leaving," he says. "I am not going to be the one to break her heart." You let out a shaky breath. "Alright." <<elseif $help_irus is 3>> "I am doing it for my father," you breathe. Zikar turns to study your expression, as if trying to determine if he likes your reasoning or not. A few seconds pass in silence before Zikar turns away with a sigh. "I know he sacrificed everything to help you and Prince Irus escape," Zikar murmurs. "But surely he would understand if you chose to stay with your family?" You shake your head at Zikar. "I cannot just stop now, Zikar. It would be wrong. My father died protecting us. If I let Prince Irus go alone, he could die too. My father did not sacrifice himself for nothing. I will not let it be for nothing." Zikar looks away, frowning at your response. "You're so stubborn." "You won't try and change my mind then?" you ask. "No," Zikar groans. "I won't. But you will need to tell Ama that you're leaving. I won't be the one to break her heart." You nod, knowing that you will have to say goodbye to a family you have only just discovered. "Alright, I will." <<elseif $help_irus is 4>> "If Prince Irus fails then, we are all in danger," you reply. "I am helping him for the good of everyone." Zikar frowns at you, his eyes narrowing. You take in the irritation in his gaze and beneath it, the tell-tale signs of his concern. He swallows, turning away from your stare as he begins to pace the hallway. You watch him for a moment, taking in his strides until he turns to face you once more. "You do not owe anyone anything," Zikar replies. "Why does it have to be you that protects others?" "I saw what the Blood Guard is capable of doing," you reply. "If I do not help Prince Irus, he might not succeed." "So what? You're just going to throw your life away for the greater good?" Zikar demands. "If I can stop the Blood Guard and Virion then I must try, Zikar," you answer. "Please, try to understand that." He mutters under his breath, running his fingers through his hair. "Stars, you're stubborn. Fine, I will not try to stop you. But you have to tell Ama that you're leaving. I won't be responsible for breaking her heart." You think about the family that you have only just discovered and let out a breath, knowing that you will have to part with them sooner than you would have wanted. "Alright," you agree. <</if>> [[Next.|chp4_12]]

You glance around you, turning your attention to those who remained behind. Most of the guests left the banquet, though there are some who still linger as they try to make arrangements to leave. In the chaos of Virion's arrival, many of the guards have been placed on high alert, making certain that no one ventures too deeply into the palace without proper authority. As you scan the hallways, your mind turns to the moment you shared with <<if $chp3_tender_irus is true>>Prince Irus. Everything had happened so fast that it is not until now that you finally have time to think about the <<if $chp3_kissingIrus is true>>kiss you shared.<<else>>moment you shared.<</if>><<elseif $chp3_tender_elora is true>>Queen Elora. Everything had happened so fast that it is not until now that you finally have time to think about the <<if $chp3_elorakiss is true>>kiss you shared.<<else>>moment you shared.<</if>><<elseif $chp3_tender_oren is true>>Sir Oren. Everything had happened so fast that it is not until now that you finally have time to think about the <<if $chp3_orenkiss is true>>kiss you shared.<<else>>moment you shared.<</if>><</if>> But discussing it will have to wait. Zikar tugs at your sleeve, leading you away from the palace hallways. "What are you doing?" you ask. "I have to head back, $name," he responds. "Baba will be worried. You should come see them now, before you leave. Tell them what is happening. They will not believe me otherwise." You glance in the direction of the hallway behind you, knowing that Zikar is right. In a few hours, you will be leaving Vinia. There will be no time then to say goodbye to the family you have only just discovered. Nodding at your cousin, you follow him out of the palace. [[Next.|chp4_13]]

<div class="timeline">The Ishari District, Aspal.</div> <<set $location to "Ishari District, Aspal.">> It is a little after midnight when you and Zikar finally arrive in the Ishari District. Despite the fact that Virion and the Blood Guard managed to get into the palace, most of the homes are dark. You share a glance with Zikar and he lets out a breath. "Many will not know what happened tonight," he explains. "It seems like Ellie has managed to contain the news for now." Behind you, two guards escort you and Zikar to your grandmother's home. When Queen Elora discovered that you were leaving, she insisted that you do not walk alone in the streets. You cannot help the sliver of dread that creeps up your spine. How did Virion manage to get into the city without alerting the Royal Vinian Guards? The thoughts disappear as you reach your grandmother's home. A dull glow can be seen through the windows and before you reach the door, it is flung open. Your uncle stands there, his eyes wide with worry but it quickly turns into relief when he sees Zikar. "Zikar," he breathes. "You're home." Watching your uncle and cousin together makes you think of your father and the emotions he rarely showed to you. As you remember Ahlf, you feel... <<set $chp4_13 to 0>> [[...envious of the bond that Zikar shares with his father.|chp4_14][$chp4_13 +=1]] [[...happy for Zikar's close relationship with his father, though you still feel a pang of sadness that you could not experience the same with Ahlf.|chp4_14][$chp4_13 +=2]] [[...angry that your father could never show you anything more than his gruff indifference.|chp4_14][$chp4_13 +=3]] [[...sad because you will never get the opportunity to better your relationship with Ahlf, now that he is gone.|chp4_14][$chp4_13 +=4]] [[...indifferent to Zikar's relationship with his father. Ahlf could never be a father to you and no amount of hoping or wishing will ever change that.|chp4_14][$chp4_13 +=5]]

<<if $chp4_13 is 1>> A pang of jealousy worms its way through your heart. You know that is wrong to envy your cousin and uncle's relationship, yet watching the open display of affection that your uncle has for Zikar leaves you feeling hollow and upset. Ahlf had been there for you, though he never truly bridged the space that formed between you over the years. You wonder if there had been something wrong with you, for Ahlf not to have treated you the way you longed for. Perhaps he had never wanted you as a $heir? Averting your gaze from Zikar and Uncle Belahm, you swallow a hard lump of disappointment and jealousy. It burns on its way down, forming a hard pit in the bottom of your stomach. <<elseif $chp4_13 is 2>> You smile faintly as Uncle Belahm fusses over Zikar, his eyebrows knitted together in worry. It is good to know that your cousin grew up so loved and fawned over and perhaps it would explain his slight ego. Still, as you watch your uncle and your cousin together, you cannot help the slight tug at your chest, the niggling feeling of sorrow that fills you. Your father had never been a very emotional man and perhaps, he tried his best. But witnessing the overt display of affection between your uncle and cousin, you cannot help but wonder if Ahlf could have tried harder. Was it so hard to love you, you wonder? The thought causes a prickle at the back of your eyes and you quickly blink, forcing them away. <<elseif $chp4_13 is 3>> The bitter resentment and anger you harbour at the memories of your father's interactions with you come crawling back up, digging into your sides as you press your teeth together. Your father had been poor at showing his feelings, so much so that it was hard to believe that he ever wanted you around. Watching Zikar and your uncle together only serves to bring back the memories of your father's indifference towards you. How many times had you hoped for a smile or an affectionate word from Ahlf, only to be spurned at every opportunity. Your father could never bring himself to treat you the way you craved and the knowledge that he is dead now, unable to answer you for the way that he treated you, only worsens your rage. <<elseif $chp4_13 is 4>> You watch Zikar and Uncle Belahm together with a soft frown. There had been so many secrets between you and Ahlf and perhaps it is why neither of you could bridge the space that connected you as father and $heir. It is difficult to watch your cousin and uncle without thinking about what your relationship with Ahlf could have been. Maybe, if your father had not died when he did, you would have been able to discover more of his past and question him on his choices. Yet, he is gone now and even if you had anything to ask him, it would go unanswered. A sigh escapes you, sadness filling your chest as you look away, knowing that you can never have the relationship you want with your father. <<elseif $chp4_13 is 5>> The empty hollowness that comes as you watch Zikar and Uncle Belahm together, fills out the space that surrounds your chest. Perhaps, when you were younger and more hopeful, you would have been jealous of your cousin's relationship with his father. But now, all you feel is a bitter indifference. No matter how much you had hoped as a child, your father never showed you any form of affection. He was unwilling to change perhaps, or maybe he could not bring himself to love you. You will never know his reasons and you have long since made your peace with that. Ahlf is gone now and demanding answers will only serve to drive you mad. Instead, you turn away from the sight of your cousin and uncle, forcing away any unwanted memories of your father. <</if>> Your uncle withdraws from Zikar, his gaze shifting onto you. His eyes widen and he reaches to grip your hands. There is concern in his expression, a sight that takes you by surprise. "$name," Uncle Belahm breathes. "Are you alright? Did something happen?" You open your mouth to reply, but then, close it. It is difficult to understand your uncle's worry for you, almost fatherly in his words. Zikar glances at you, before answering when you do not. "We should speak inside," he says. "It is not good." [[Next.|chp4_15]]

Soon, you are seated around a low table with only a few lamps to keep the darkness of night away. Your grandmother sits beside you, clutching your hand in hers while Zikar paces the room uneasily. In the time after arriving and explaining what had happened, your family lapsed into silence, uncertainty filling the room. "This is madness," Uncle Belahm says, interrupting the silence. "How can this be?" It is Zikar's mother, Uncle Belahm's wife, Yara, who replies. "It is alright, Bel. $name said that there is a plan in motion. We will be safe." Your eyes turn to your aunt, the woman who you quickly learnt was born in Aspal. Her skin is paler than your uncle's and her hair is thick and nearly auburn in the firelight. But it is the obvious swell of her belly that draws your attention. You had not expected your aunt to be pregnant. "The plan is to have $name and Prince Irus travel to Ishari," Uncle Belahm huffs. "How is that a plan? They are throwing them into the path of danger." "Hush, Belahm," your grandmother interjects. "$name is strong and is doing the right thing. If $MChe does not help Prince Irus, we might have a war here in Vinia." "I do not like this," Uncle Belahm mutters. He stands, moving away. "We are just standing by while $name is being thrown into danger." Your uncle strides away, visibly upset. You frown, as your Aunt Yara sighs. "He needs time to think it over, $name. Do not take it to heart." Your grandmother lets out a shaky breath, before she moves towards the small kitchen to make some tea. Zikar continues to pace, despite the concerned look in his mother's face and you hear your uncle muttering from the room he disappeared into. <<set $chp4_familychoice_bel to false>><<set $chp4_familychoice_yara to false>><<set $chp4_familychoice_zik to false>><<set $chp4_familychoice_ama to false>><<set $chp4_famcounter to 0>> [[Go speak to Uncle Belahm in the other room.|chp4_16a][$chp4_famcounter +=1, $chp4_familychoice_bel to true]] [[Speak to your Aunt Yara and learn more about her.|chp4_16b][$chp4_famcounter +=1, $chp4_familychoice_yara to true]] [[Move to speak with Zikar as he continues to pace the room.|chp4_16c][$chp4_famcounter +=1, $chp4_familychoice_zik to true]] [[Go help your grandmother with the tea.|chp4_16d][$chp4_famcounter +=1, $chp4_familychoice_ama to true]]

You stand and follow after your uncle, catching a small smile of encouragement from your aunt. The room is dim when you enter and you find your uncle staring out of the window, his expression pinched with frustration. For a moment, the resemblence between Zikar and your uncle is overwhelming and you realise just how alike the both of them are. "Uncle Belahm?" you call. Your uncle startles at the sound of your voice and he turns to face you. He blinks, wiping at the corners of his eyes and you realise that he was close to crying. <<set $chp4_16a to 0>> [["Are you alright?" you ask, full of concern.|chp4_16a_1][$chp4_16a +=1]] [["I am sorry," you apologise at the sight of his watery eyes. "I did not mean to interrupt."|chp4_16a_1][$chp4_16a +=2]] [["Are you crying?" you ask, curious as to why he's so emotional.|chp4_16a_1][$chp4_16a +=3]] [["I came to check if you were alright, but is seems that I have only made things worse for you all," you murmur.|chp4_16a_1][$chp4_16a +=4]]

Your gaze moves towards your aunt, taking in her appearance. Her eyes are dark, nearly as dark as Zikar's though you catch a hint of warmth in her gaze. She notices your stare and smiles at you. It is warm and full of affection that you are uncertain you deserve. Shifting so that she is seated closer to you, your aunt takes a moment to study you in return. "I am sorry we did not get to meet before," she apologises. She rubs her belly. "There has been much to prepare for." Your eyes move towards her stomach, taking in her pregnancy. Though you are not unfamiliar with how children are made, it is still strange being this close to your aunt and her swollen stomach. "It is alright," you reply. "I did not... I mean, Zikar did not mention that you were expecting." Your aunt laughs, a soft sound that is nearly musical. "That is because he is upset. He is used to being an only child. To be honest, Belahm and I had not expected another child this late in our lives, but we are happy." You nod in response, smiling slightly. Sitting beside your aunt, you realise that you do not know much about her, other than the fact that she married your uncle after they met in Aspal. <<set $chp4_16b to 0>> [["Have you always lived in Vinia?" you ask, curious about her background.|chp4_16b_1][$chp4_16b +=1]] [["What's it like being a mother to Zikar?" you ask, wondering if your cousin is as troublesome at home.|chp4_16b_1][$chp4_16b +=2]] [["Do you have any family here in Vinia?" you question.|chp4_16b_1][$chp4_16b +=3]]

You glance at Zikar, watching him pace the room in an uneasy silence. A few moments pass and he shows no signs of slowing. With a sigh, you approach him, careful not to startle him. He looks up as you near him, finally drawing to a stop as he fixes his dark eyes onto you. "$name," he states, his face sullen and his voice low. "Come to say your last goodbyes?" "Zikar," you sigh. "You know why I am doing this." He frowns. "It doesn't mean that I have to like it." You decide to change tactics. "My announcement didn't seem to break Ama's heart like you said it would." Zikar huffs, "She's just hiding it, $name. Or are you trying to say that you enjoy watching old ladies cry?" <<set $chp4_16c to 0>> [["You know that you can admit that you're going to miss me," you reply with a grin.|chp4_16c_1][$chp4_16c +=1]] [["I know that you do not like the idea of me leaving, but I would really appreciate your support," you respond.|chp4_16c_1][$chp4_16c +=2]] [["I will miss you when I leave," you admit. "You are almost like the brother I never knew I wanted."|chp4_16c_1][$chp4_16c +=3]] [["Maybe I prefer making you cry instead," you tease, trying to soothe his nerves.|chp4_16c_1][$chp4_16c +=4]]

The kitchen is small and cramped when you step into it. It must have been built after the main house was constructed because the ceiling hangs low and the floor dips below a step. Your eyes take in the multitude of pots that lie atop the tables and the drying herbs that hang from the roof. Your grandmother glances up as you enter, her eyes warming as she smiles. "$name," she says. "Do you need something? Are you hungry? Come sit, let me make you something." You begin to protest, but your grandmother stubbornly ignores you as she pushes you into a nearby chair. She bustles around the kitchen, opening cupboards and filling clay bowls with an assortment of spiced meals. Soon, the table is set out with bowls of rice and spiced vegetables. "It is not much, but it will fill you up," your grandmother says, joining you at the table. "That prince of yours seemed to like my cooking. Maybe I should pack him something too?" "You do not have to," you begin to say, but your grandmother ignores you as she busies herself. You can do nothing but wait for her to stop, deciding to eat from the bowls as you wait. The food is delicious, the pumpkin sweet on your tongue and the scented rice, soft as you chew. Your grandmother soon returns, smiling wide as she places a packaged bowl on the table. "For your prince," she says. "He's not my prince," you respond, making a face. Your grandmother chuckles. "He's not? And who then has caught your eye?" The subject of romantic relationships is not something you were expecting, especially not from your grandmother. It is an awkward feeling of embarrassment mixed with the knowledge that if you say anything now, it might give your grandmother the idea that you have already declared your undying love for another. <<set $chp4_16d to 0>> [["No one has," you reply sincerely. "I have made good friends, but nothing more than that."|chp4_16d_1][$chp4_16d +=1]] [["No one," you mumble, though you think of Prince Irus.|chp4_16d_1][$chp4_16d +=2, $irusRom +=5]] [["No one," you answer, your mind drifting to Queen Elora.|chp4_16d_1][$chp4_16d +=3, $eloraRom +=5]] [["No one," you reply as you recall Sir Oren's smile.|chp4_16d_1][$chp4_16d +=4, $orenRom +=5]]

<<if $chp4_16a is 1>> "Are you alright?" you ask, full of concern. It is strange to see your uncle, a man you have only known for a few weeks, blinking away tears at your arrival. You feel remorseful for hurting him, knowing that no matter what he says, your decision has already been made. Still, as you take in your uncle's face, you feel a pang of sorrow at the sight of his mournful expression. "$name," Uncle Belahm says, forcing a smile to his lips. "I am sorry. You do not need to worry yourself over me." "You seem upset," you murmur. "I did not mean to make you upset." He shakes his head. "It is not you. This just brings back memories of your mother." <<elseif $chp4_16a is 2>> "I am sorry," you apologise at the sight of his watery eyes. "I did not mean to interrupt." You do not know how to react at the situation before you. Your uncle wipes his eyes hastily, looking away from your stare and you cannot help but feel as if you have witnessed a private moment you should not have. After all, you have only known Uncle Belahm for a few weeks and seeing him cry leaves you uncertain on how to proceed. "No, please," Uncle Belahm replies. "Do not apologise. You were not interrupting." "I can leave if you need a moment," you respond. He shakes his head, giving you a wan smile despite his tearful gaze. "No, no, $name. It is alright. I am just reminded of your mother." <<elseif $chp4_16a is 3>> "Are you crying?" you ask, curious as to why he's so emotional. Granted, you are family but you had not expected such a strong reaction from your uncle. It is strange to think that he cares for you this deeply already, when you hardly know each other. Is it because you share blood that makes him care for you or is it because he genuinely cares? "It is just old memories," he explains, wiping his eyes. "You do not need to look so worried." Your eyebrows furrow. "Are you certain?" Uncle Belahm lets out a breath. "Yes, I am quite certain, $name. Please, it is nothing that you did. I am only reminded of what happened with your mother." <<elseif $chp4_16a is 4>> "I came to check if you were alright, but is seems that I have only made things worse for you all," you murmur. You feel remorse eating away at your thoughts, filling your chest as it takes over your mind. In the short time that you have known your family, it seems that you have only suceeded in making life more difficult for them. Perhaps it would be better if you left. They do not need to keep worrying over you. "Of course you haven't, $name," Uncle Belahm replies. He wipes his eyes, fixing you with a steady look. "You are part of this family now and we will never turn our backs on you." His words cause a strange warmth to fill you and you swallow a hard lump, knowing that despite everything, they still seem to care for you as if you have always been a part of the family. "This is not your fault," Uncle Belahm says. "What's happening now just brings back memories that I thought I put behind me, memories of your mother." <</if>> Your eyerbrows raise in confusion. "My mother? What do you mean?" [[Next.|chp4_16a_2]]

Your uncle sighs in response, moving to sit on a nearby chair. He gestures for you to take the seat across from him and you do so, eager to learn more about your mother's past. "When your mother had you, I thought that maybe she would finally come to her senses and return with me to Vinia," Uncle Belahm explains. "But she refused. She thought she could stop the war and the Blood Guard for good." "I don't understand," you say. "How does what's happening now remind you of Mama?" Uncle Belahm smiles at you, his gaze sad. "You are just like Sal. So stubborn in your beliefs, so eager to put yourselves at risk for others. It was what I admired the most about your mother, but I fear that it will only cause you harm, $name. You have only just returned to us and I fear that if you leave, I will not see you again like Sal." You had not known what to expect, but your uncle's truthfulness takes you by surprise. It is clear that he sees you the way he must have seen your mother all those years ago and you cannot fault him for his fears. <<set $chp4_16a_2 to 0>> [["I know that you think I will not return, but know that I will," you reassure him.|chp4_16a_3][$chp4_16a_2 +=1]] [["I am scared too," you admit. "But I cannot turn my back on Prince Irus now."|chp4_16a_3][$chp4_16a_2 +=2]] [["I am grateful for having someone like you who cares about me," you reply. "So I hope that you can understand why I must do this."|chp4_16a_3][$chp4_16a_2 +=3]] [["It is hard to forget what happened with Mama," you say. "But I am not her, Uncle Belahm. I will make sure I return to you and the rest of the family."|chp4_16a_3][$chp4_16a_2 +=4]]

<<if $chp4_16a_2 is 1>> "I know that you think I will not return, but know that I will," you reassure him. Uncle Belahm smiles at you, though the expression in his gaze still remains concerned. He reaches out to pat the back of your hand, his touch warm and kind. You wonder if this is what it must feel like to have a family that cares about you and the thought causes a flush of happiness to spread through you. "I know you will," Uncle Belahm responds. "Your grandmother was not lying. You are strong, far stronger than I could ever hope to be." You look down at your hands, smiling softly. "Thank you." You want to thank him for much more. He has taken you in and accepted you despite everything. It is as if you have always been a part of the family and that any time apart only solidified the strength of your bond now. "You never have to thank me, $name," your uncle replies. "I mean it, we are all here for you." <<elseif $chp4_16a_2 is 2>> "I am scared too," you admit. "But I cannot turn my back on Prince Irus now." Uncle Belahm nods, letting out a long breath. He is not like Zikar, in his displeasure for you helping Prince Irus, but you do spy a hint of sadness that mars his expression. Your eyebrows furrow and you look away. You know that many will not understand your desire to help Prince Irus, but it is something that you have to do. "I know," Uncle Belahm sighs. "I only wish there was a safer way." "I promise that I will not take any uncessary risks," you reply. Your uncle smiles softly at you, reaching out to grip your wrist. "You are so brave, $name. I am ashamed to say that you are braver than me." "I do not feel so brave," you mumble. Uncle Belahm smiles wider. "I am looking at you now and you wear the same look of courage I once saw in your mother. Do not doubt yourself, $name. I certainly will not." <<elseif $chp4_16a_2 is 3>> "I am grateful for having someone like you who cares about me," you reply. "So I hope that you can understand why I must do this." Uncle Belahm's eyes fill with tears once more and you fear that he will start weeping. He turns away, swiping at his eyes before turning to you with a soft smile. His gaze is gentle, a kindness that goes beyond mere compassion and you feel a lump lodge in the back of your throat. You wonder if this is what it must feel like to have a father who is unafraid to show his emotions. "When you speak, it is hard to remember that you are only a few years older than Zikar," Uncle Belahm replies. "You are wiser than it would seem, $name." You look down, his words warming you with slight embarrassment. "I am only doing what is right." "You have your mother's determination," he responds. "It will serve you well in the obstacles that you will have to face. I know that you will return in time, though I dread the absence I know we will have to face when you leave." "I will try to hurry back," you assure. Uncle Belahm laughs. "Do not hurry on our account, $name. Your family will still be here waiting for you when you return." <<elseif $chp4_16a_2 is 4>> "It is hard to forget what happened with Mama," you say. "But I am not her, Uncle Belahm. I will make sure I return to you and the rest of the family." Your uncle tears up, glancing away. He wipes his eyes and you fear that he might start crying again. A moment passes and you study your uncle, taking in the way his expression turns concerned. He reaches for your hand, squeezing before releasing his hold. "You are too kind, $name," he says. "Looking out for someone like me. I should be the one reassuring you." "I do not mind," you respond. You smile, though it is not as warm as you would like. "I have not had much of a family until now. It feels nice, being able to speak to you like this." Uncle Belahm returns your smile and for a moment, yours does not feel so sad anymore. "We will all miss you when you leave, but know that we will wait anxiously for your return." <</if>> Your uncle stands then, smoothing out the invisible wrinkles from his clothes. He glances at you, smiling warmly. "You should head back out," he says. "It will do you no good to sit here and calm me down." "Are you sure?" you ask. Uncle Belahm chuckles. "I assure you that I am well enough, $name. Now go, before Yara comes in and we all start crying together." You nod, smiling as you leave your uncle in the room. As you turn away, you catch him wiping his eyes once more. [[Next.|chp4_16_landing]]

The main room is quiet, despite everyone being awake. The lamps emit a faint glow across the room and you are grateful for the warmth that creeps over your skin. It is oddly familiar being in this room, a welcoming feeling that lulls you into a peacefulness. <<if $chp4_famcounter lt 4>> There is still time before you return to the palace to speak with your family. It might be a long time until you see them again so it would be best to make use of the last moments with them wisely. <<if $chp4_familychoice_bel is false>> [[Go speak to Uncle Belahm in the other room.|chp4_16a][$chp4_famcounter +=1, $chp4_familychoice_bel to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp4_familychoice_yara is false>> [[Speak to your Aunt Yara and learn more about her.|chp4_16b][$chp4_famcounter +=1, $chp4_familychoice_yara to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp4_familychoice_zik is false>> [[Move to speak with Zikar as he continues to pace the room.|chp4_16c][$chp4_famcounter +=1, $chp4_familychoice_zik to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp4_familychoice_ama is false>> [[Go help your grandmother with the tea.|chp4_16d][$chp4_famcounter +=1, $chp4_familychoice_ama to true]]<</if>> <<elseif $chp4_famcounter is 4>> The heaviness in the room weighs over your shoulders. After speaking to everyone, it is a little difficult to say goodbye when you do not know when you will get the chance to see them again. Your uncle and aunt pull you close, their hugs warm and filled with sniffles. Next, your grandmother smooths her palm over your face. "Be good, hm? And make sure to write to us when you can," she says. "I will," you respond. You turn to Zikar, glancing at your cousin who stands to one side with a sullen expression. "Zikar?" you call. He huffs, before he turns to look at you. "Just come back in one piece, alright?" "I will try," you answer. You turn to leave but Zikar reaches out, drawing you into a tight embrace. Before you can understand what is happening, he pulls away, his eyes on you. "Stay safe, $name." Nodding at him, you glance at the rest of your family who watch you with soft smiles. You let out a breath before turning away. Whatever happens now, you can only hope that they will be safer in Vinia when you leave. [[Next.|chp4_17]]<</if>>

<<set $location to "The Great Palace, Aspal.">><div class="timeline">The Great Palace of Vinia.</div> You arrive at the palace a short while later. As you step into the main foyer, the guards who escorted you, nod before they leave. There is silence now, when only hours earlier, the hallways had been filled with laughter and lingering guests. You watch the attendants hurry past you, their eyes wide with panic. The atmosphere is charged with the frenetic nervousness that a war looms over Vinia. You can only hope that by leaving, the Blood Guard will leave too. Stepping deeper into the hallways, you realise that these are the last few hours you will have to spend time in Vinia. With you and Prince Irus leaving, you are uncertain when you will next get to speak to Queen Elora or Sir Oren. It is late enough that at this hour, many would be sleeping. But with the threat of war, it seems impossible to sleep now. <<set $chp4_RO_visit to 0>><<set $chp4_visit_irus to false>><<set $chp4_visit_el to false>><<set $chp4_visit_oren to false>> [[You seek out Prince Irus.|chp4_18a][$chp4_RO_visit +=1, $chp4_visit_irus to true]] [[You decide to speak to Queen Elora.|chp4_18b][$chp4_RO_visit +=1, $chp4_visit_el to true]] [[You search for Sir Oren.|chp4_18c][$chp4_RO_visit +=1, $chp4_visit_oren to true]]

<<if $chp4_16b is 1>> "Have you always lived in Vinia?" you ask, curious about her background. Your aunt nods at you with a smile. "I have. My family came to Aspal before the war started. But my father is from the Southern Islands and my mother originally came from Joran." You pause, thinking over her reply. It seems that your aunt's family is more diverse than you first thought and once again, you are taken by surprise at the difference in how others are treated in Vinia. Your aunt glances at you, wearing a small smile. "Belahm told me a lot about you," she explains. "He was excited to finally meet you properly. He will not admit it, but your mother's absence has affected him a lot." <<if $chp4_familychoice_bel is false>> "It has?" you ask, surprised. "They were quite close growing up so it was difficult for him to travel to Vinia without her," she answers. <<elseif $chp4_familychoice_bel is true>> You remember the way your uncle wept. It is clear that your mother has left a hollowness in him that you are unsure will ever heal.<</if>> <<elseif $chp4_16b is 2>> "What's it like being a mother to Zikar?" you ask, wondering if your cousin is as troublesome at home. Your aunt's eyes crinkle at the corners as she smiles widely at you. There is genuine affection in her expression that makes you wonder if this is what it would have been like if Mama was still around. "Zikar can be a handful," your aunt laughs. "He is always up to something or the other." You nod, glancing at your cousin from the corner of your eyes. He still paces the room, seemingly oblivious to your topic of conversation with his mother. "What's he like at home?" you ask. "You know how he can be," she replies. "If he is not causing trouble, he's giving your uncle a headache. Between you and me, I'm hoping that the next baby is a girl." <<elseif $chp4_16b is 3>> "Do you have any family here in Vinia?" you question. Your aunt smiles. "I do. Both my parents live in Aspal, but they live near the harbour. And my aunts and uncles are here too. We're quite a big family." Most of your childhood was spent with Ahlf or Mama, but never the both of them. Now that you have found more family outside of Cyre, it is strange to think that you are no longer alone or that you now have a larger family that cares about you. "$name," your aunt calls. "I wanted to thank you for getting to know Zikar." "You do not have to thank me," you reply. She shakes her head. "I do. His cousins are all married and older than him and it has been lonely for him. Since you arrived, he has been talking about you constantly. I have not seen him this excited in a long time, so thank you." You nod, smiling though you are uncertain how to respond. Your grandmother had told you something similiar and you steal a glance at Zikar who still paces the room. It seems that despite being surrounded by people who cared for him, he was nearly as lonely as you. <</if>> "Oh," your aunt exclaims. She reaches out to touch her stomach. "The baby just moved. Maybe she's excited to meet her new cousin, too. Do you want to feel?" You stare at her swollen stomach and... <<set $chp4_16b_1 to 0>> [[...reach out to touch her stomach.|chp4_16b_2][$chp4_16b_1 +=1]] [[...shake your head in disagreement, feeling uncomfortable with the idea.|chp4_16b_2][$chp4_16b_1 +=2]] [[...ask if it is alright.|chp4_16b_2][$chp4_16b_1 +=3]]

<<if $chp4_16b_1 is 1>> You reach out with your palm outstretched, hesitating slightly. Your aunt catches your expression and takes your palm in hers before guiding it to her stomach. You do not feel anything at first, only the warmth of her hand on yours and the tightness of her stomach beneath her dress. And then, you feel the slightest of movements. It presses against your palm, not unlike a child's tiny fist or the way one feels a baby's foot press against the air. The feeling is so faint that for a few seconds, you wonder if it is something more akin to imagining it than having felt it. Then there is another movement, stronger this time and you stare at your hand in wonder. "Do you feel it?" your aunt asks. You nod in response, withdrawing your hand. As you gaze at your palm, still warm, you suddenly become aware that if Virion and the Blood Guard succeed then those who are innocent, like your aunt's unborn baby, will have to live with the consequences. Now more than ever, Prince Irus will need to find a way to reclaim his throne before it is too late. <<elseif $chp4_16b_1 is 2>> You stare at your aunt's stomach and hesitate, suddenly uncomfortable with her offer. She must notice it in your expression because she offers you a small smile. "It is alright, $name," she murmurs. "You do not have to if you do not want to." "I do not mean it as disrespect," you mumble. Aunt Yara laughs. "Please, you will have to do much worse if you think that I will feel disrespected. It is alright, truly. I will not force you. Just know that your new cousin will be eager to meet you when she is born." You nod at your aunt, suddenly aware that if Virion succeeds in his plans, there is a high possibility that he will not stop with Cyre. Those who are most vulnerable, like your aunt's unborn child, will have to deal with the consequences. <<elseif $chp4_16b_1 is 3>> You glance at her stomach, uncertain. "Are you certain?" Aunt Yara laughs at you, though it is not unkind. "I would not have offered otherwise, $name. Quickly now, before she stops moving." You reach out to press your palm over your aunt's swollen stomach. It is a strange feeling, her stomach hard and round instead of soft as you would have expected. Still, a moment passes with no movement and you wonder if your unborn cousin has decided not to make any movements now that you are here. Finally, though, something does happen; a tiny kick under your hand and Aunt Yara gasps as the baby presses against you. It is so small and faint that you wonder if you imagined it and then, there is more an insistent push and you pull away, stunned and in awe of what you have just witnessed. "She must like you a lot," your aunt laughs. "She never kicks this late at night." You smile, nodding in response, though your mind travels to Virion and the Blood Guard. It is hard to know if Virion will be satisifed with only Cyre and there is a niggling sense of dread that he will try to attack other nations like Vinia. If that is true then those most vulnerable like your aunt's unborn baby will be at risk. <</if>> Aunt Yara breaks through your thoughts when she speaks again. You glance at her, noting her warm gaze and the soft smile she wears. "I am glad you are finally part of the family, $name," she says. "I know that it must be scary to discover a new family like this, but I hope you know that you will always have a place here with us." There is a sincerity in her tone that leaves you searching for the right words to say. It is hard to understand how your family have accepted you this easily, unbothered by your past or the decisions that you have made. <<set $chp4_16b_2 to 0>> [["Thank you," you respond, your voice catching over your emotions.|chp4_16b_3][$chp4_16b_2 +=1]] [[You smile, nodding in response as you are too overcome to form any words of gratitude.|chp4_16b_3][$chp4_16b_2 +=2]] [["I am grateful for everything," you whisper. "This is all new to me, but I am greatly enjoying being a part of a family."|chp4_16b_3][$chp4_16b_2 +=3]] [["Thank you," you mumble, uncertain of how to respond as you are inexperienced when it comes to being a part of a family.|chp4_16b_3][$chp4_16b_2 +=4]]

<<if $chp4_16b_2 is 1>> "Thank you," you respond, your voice catching over your emotions. Aunt Yara reaches out to grip your hand in hers. Her touch is warm and soothing and she offers you a soft smile as she gazes at your face. "You do not have to thank us, $name," she replies. "We are your family. I know it has been difficult for you. Belahm and your grandmother told me a little of your life. It is different now, you are not alone." A swell of warmth rushes through you as tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. You often wondered as a child what it would feel like to have a family and now, experiencing it far surpasses your imagination. Swallowing, you return your aunt's smile, grateful for her kindness. Knowing that you must leave your family leaves you feeling hollow, though you are determined to help Prince Irus, especially if it means that it will keep your family safe from the Blood Guard. <<elseif $chp4_16b_2 is 2>> You smile, nodding in response as you are too overcome to form any words of gratitude. It is difficult to speak when you are afraid that you might start weeping. You swallow a hard lump and Aunt Yara must notice something about how you feel from your expression because she reaches out and places her warm hand over yours. "I am glad that we finally met each other, $name," your aunt says. "Your grandmother and Belahm told me a little about your life before this. It must have been hard for you." You can only manage a nod, feeling the tightening of your throat. Glancing down at where Aunt Yara grips your hand, you let out a shaky breath. "I hope that you know that you are always welcome here," she says. "We are your family, $name. No matter what you do, you will have a place here." It is difficult to leave your family now, only just having gotten to know them, but you know that if Prince Irus does not succeed in reclaiming the throne, your family will have to contend with the Blood Guard. You must leave them, if only to keep them safe. <<elseif $chp4_16b_2 is 3>> "I am grateful for everything," you whisper. "This is all new to me, but I am greatly enjoying being a part of a family." Aunt Yara smiles, reaching out to grip your hand in hers. Her eyes are warm and you notice the watery look in her gaze. Your eyes widen at the sight of her tears but she waves off your concerned expression with a laugh. "It is alright, $name," she replies. "I am just so happy to have gotten to know you. You will always be welcome here." "I... thank you," you repond. It is a strange feeling, this sense of belonging and knowing that no matter what happens, there are people who care about you. All your life, you have wondered what it would feel like to be loved and wanted and now that you are here, you cannot deny that it is a overwhelming feeling. Knowing that you must leave your family is difficult, but you know that you will do whatever it takes to keep them safe. <<elseif $chp4_16b_2 is 4>> "Thank you," you mumble, uncertain of how to respond as you are inexperienced when it comes to being a part of a family. If your response comes out stilted, Aunt Yara does not seem bothered by it. She smiles at you, a kind smile that tugs at the corners of her lips as she reaches out to grip your hand in hers. Her touch is warm and gentle and reminds you of Mama. The thought causes a hard lump to form in the back of your throat and you swallow it down, unused to the sudden flush of emotions. "I know that is strange and new to you," Aunt Yara murmurs. "We are here for you, $name. No matter what happens, I hope that you know that we are happy to have you with us." Perhaps if Mama had sent you to Vinia instead, you could have grown up experiencing what a loving family was like. You wonder what your life might have been like if you had not stayed with Ahlf. And then, you shake away the thought. It is enough that you are here now and that your family do not care that you are still strangers. Even if it is difficult to leave them, you are determined to do what it takes to keep them safe. <</if>> Your aunt draws her hand away, smiling at you. "Thank you for speaking with me, $name. It was nice to finally get to know the young $gender who has brought such joy into our lives." You stand, stretching your legs as you smile in response. Your aunt glances at Zikar before sighing. "Perhaps I should tell him to stop worrying so much." Despite her words, your aunt simply gazes at Zikar, wearing a fond expression on her face. You turn your attention away from her, glancing at the rest of the room. [[Next.|chp4_16_landing]]

<<if $chp4_16c is 1>> "You know that you can admit that you're going to miss me," you reply with a grin. Zikar scoffs as if the very notion of admitting anything of the sort is akin to lunacy. "Do not think so highly of yourself. I cannot wait for you to leave." "Truly?" you ask. "Is that why you tried to convince me to stay?" A light redness spreads across his cheeks at your words. You cannot help the small laugh that escapes you, enjoying the way your teasing seems to have rendered him silent. He frowns when he notices your mirth and turns away, pacing once more. "I was drunk," he explains. "I did not know what I was saying." <<elseif $chp4_16c is 2>> "I know that you do not like the idea of me leaving, but I would really appreciate your support," you respond. Zikar rolls his eyes at you, though there is nothing cruel about the gesture. "How can you expect me to be supportive, $name?" "It is my decision, Zikar," you reply. "You cannot change my mind. I am capable of-" "I know that you are capable," he interrupts, turning to face you. "You travelled alone with Prince Irus, escaped the Blood Guard and even found a way to stay in the palace." You blink, startled by Zikar's words. He lapses into silence, as if just as surprised by what he has said. A moment passes and he averts his gaze, a red warmth spreading across his face. "It sounds like you know that I will be fine when I leave," you state. Zikar sighs. "I still do not like it, $name. I am sorry if I am not excited enough for you to be placing yourself in danger like this." <<elseif $chp4_16c is 3>> "I will miss you when I leave," you admit. "You are almost like the brother I never knew I wanted." Zikar lets out an amused laugh, his eyes meeting yours briefly. "Well you are welcome then, because you will never find a better brother than in me." You match his smile, the sudden tension broken by your shared grins. It is hard to think that this is the same man that you bumped into in the Ishari District. It did not take long for your relationship with Zikar to shift from being strangers to being a family. "I suppose I will miss you too," Zikar mumbles, flushing. "You suppose?" you ask, grinning. "I take it back," Zikar huffs. "I will not miss you at all." <<elseif $chp4_16c is 4>> "Maybe I prefer making you cry instead," you tease, trying to soothe his nerves. Zikar glances at you, his dark eyebrows gathering in the middle of his forehead. "I assure you that I will not shed a single tear when you leave." "Are you so certain?" you ask. "Because you seem a little sad." He huffs, rolling his eyes as if you have misread the entire situation. But by the way he keeps glancing at you, wearing a look of concern, you are are certain that he is upset. "I am not sad," he protests. You raise an eyebrow at him in disbelief. At your look, Zikar flushes. "I had too much to drink at the banquet. I get sad when I drink," he explains. "Not everything is about you, $name. And people say I have a big head." <</if>> There is a lull in your conversation and you use this moment to examine your cousin. He still wears a worried expression, but the nerves that had been there before has lessened slightly. You know that you will not see him for a while and though you have not known him long, it feels as if you have known each other for years. Zikar must sense your gaze on him, because he turns to look at you with a soft expression. "Promise me that you will try to be safe. And try to keep that annoying prince safe too." <<set $chp4_16c_1 to 0>> [["I promise," you reply, grateful for his concern.|chp4_16c_2][$chp4_16c_1 +=1]] [["I cannot wait to tell Irus that you care about him," you tease.|chp4_16c_2][$chp4_16c_1 +=2]] [["Thank you for being so kind to me," you say. "I promise that I will try to be safe."|chp4_16c_2][$chp4_16c_1 +=3]] [["You do not need to look so worried," you reply. "It's only a small journey across the sea, how hard can it be?"|chp4_16c_2][$chp4_16c_1 +=4]]

<<if $chp4_16c_1 is 1>> "I promise," you reply, grateful for his concern. Zikar smiles at you, softer this time. A flutter of warmth spreads through you, knowing that you are not so alone anymore. It makes the idea of leaving your family behind a hard one, especially at the thought of not seeing Zikar for a while. In the short time that you have known your cousin, he has become a fixture in your life and you are unsure what to make of his absence when you leave. "Good then," he replies. "I know that you will succeed, but I still worry." "It is strange because I worry about what will happen to you and everyone else when I leave," you respond. Zikar huffs. "You do not need to worry about us, $name. I am much better of a warrior than you are." Despite his words, you catch a glimmer of a smile on his lips and you find yourself matching his expression. <<elseif $chp4_16c_1 is 2>> "I cannot wait to tell Irus that you care about him," you tease. Zikar's eyes widen at your teasing words and in an instant, he looks away, flushed and sullen. "You will not tell him a single thing." "But you did just-" "I was merely being polite," Zikar interrupts. He runs a hand through his thick hair.<<if $irusRom gte 15>> "After all, I know how much you swoon over him." Your eyes narrow in response. "I do not swoon." Zikar raises an eyebrow in disbelief. "You do swoon."<<else>> "He's important to stopping all of this. And for some reason, you're helping him, so if he stays safe then I know you'll stay safe." You gaze at your cousin, smiling. "It is kind of you to care." He flushes at your tone and averts his eyes. "It is not kindness. We're family, $name."<</if>> <<elseif $chp4_16c_1 is 3>> "Thank you for being so kind to me," you say. "I promise that I will try to be safe." Zikar gazes at you, a soft expression on his face. You smile, a slow thing that pulls at the corners of your lips and find that it feels sincere. Your cousin glances away, his eyes darting to the rest of the room before he returns his gaze onto you. "It is good to see that you will not act so recklessly," he replies. You raise an eyebrow at Zikar. "Are you lecturing //me// not to act so recklessly?" Zikar shrugs, grinning at you. Between the both of you, you are certain that your cousin has willingly chosen recklessness more often than not. "Not everyone can be as dashing as me and get away with it," he responds. You fight the urge to roll your eyes, huffing out a breathy laugh. <<elseif $chp4_16c_1 is 4>> "You do not need to look so worried," you reply. "It's only a small journey across the sea, how hard can it be?" Zikar stares at you as if you have lost your mind. Perhaps your jest did not amuse him as you had intended and you beging to raise your hands to placate him. "It was only a jest, Zikar," you respond. He frowns. "You are not as funny as you think, $name." You smile up at him, your eyes meeting his dark ones. "I have faced dangers before and I have survived through them. Trust me, I will be safe." Zikar lets out a breath, unable to deny your words. In the short time that you have known each other, it has been increasingly difficult to think about your life before you met him. If you had not bumped into each other in the bazaar, you doubt you would have discovered your family in Vinia. "I hope so, $name," Zikar breathes. "It would be a shame to be the only young and attractive grandchild in this family." You snort out a laugh, grinning wider when you catch the amusement in Zikar's expression. <</if>> As you stand beside Zikar, you follow his gaze to Aunt Yara, his mother.<<if $chp4_familychoice_yara is true>> You remember your conversation with your aunt and smile fondly at the memory of her warmth.<<else>> You have not yet had the chance to speak with your aunt, though you note the smile she casts you when your eyes meet.<</if>> But it is Zikar's gaze on his mother's stomach that seems to cause his brow to furrow. "Are you alright?" you ask. He shrugs. "Just thinking." You glance at your aunt before returning your gaze to Zikar. "You must be excited to be getting a younger sibling." Zikar makes a face. "Not really. Imagine the crying and the noise and all the fussing." <<set $chp4_16c_2 to 0>> [["It seems like it would be less lonely to have a sibling," you say with a smile.|chp4_16c_3][$chp4_16c_2 +=1]] [["You seem like you would make a good, big brother," you respond.|chp4_16c_3][$chp4_16c_2 +=2]] [["When you put it like that, it doesn't seem as exciting," you answer.|chp4_16c_3][$chp4_16c_2 +=3]] [["It's all worth it in the end, isn't it? I would have given anything to had a sibling," you murmur.|chp4_16c_3][$chp4_16c_2 +=4]]

<<if $chp4_16c_2 is 1>> "It seems like it would be less lonely to have a sibling," you say with a smile. Zikar seems to think your words over, a thoughtful look on his face. You take a moment to study him, noting the furrowed eyebrows and the frown that tugs at his lips. Perhaps growing up as the only child has made him forget what it might be like to have a sibling. "I suppose so," he replies, as if saying the words hurt him. "And think about the things you can do together," you explain. "And when your parents are mad at you, you can always-" "Blame my sibling," Zikar answers, grinning. You frown. "I was going to say that you could talk to your sibling." "No," Zikar responds. "You've already persuaded me. This will be a good thing, just you wait, $name." <<elseif $chp4_16c_2 is 2>> "You seem like you would make a good, big brother," you respond. Zikar huffs, glancing at you with a wide grin. "Of course I would make a good brother." "Then why are you upset about getting a sibling?" you ask. "I am not upset," he mumbles. "I am only concerned." "Concerned?" you repeat, questioning him. You gaze at Zikar, noting the way he chews on his lower lip as he glances away. A moment passes and you wonder if your cousin will open up to you about his thoughts, but you need not have wondered any longer for Zikar turns to you with a sigh. "My parents are excited," Zikar explains. "But they have not had to raise any children since having me. I am afraid that it will be too hard for them and hard for me and-" "Zikar," you interject. "It is alright to be afraid. But if there is one thing I learnt from getting to know everyone, it is that they will help each other no matter what." Zikar grumbles. "I know you are right, but it is still hard not to think about what could go wrong." You offer him a soft smile. "I know that it will work out in the end, Zikar. It always does." <<elseif $chp4_16c_2 is 3>> "When you put it like that, it doesn't seem as exciting," you answer. <<elseif $chp4_16c_2 is 4>> "It's all worth it in the end, isn't it? I would have given anything to had a sibling," you murmur. Zikar glances at you, his dark eyes searching your expression. You look away, thinking about your childhood spent alone. Perhaps if you had not been alone, if you had a sibling to keep you company, your childhood would not have been so bad. Ahlf's indifference would have been an easier thing to bare if you had someone to share your thoughts with. "I am sorry, $name," Zikar responds. "I did not mean to bring up bad memories." You shake your head, offering him a smile. "It is alright. Think on it though. Not everyone gets a chance at being getting a younger sibling." Zikar lets out a long breath. "I know that. It's just... my parents are older than they had been when they had me. I worry that things might go wrong." "What kind of things?" you ask. "My mother has not been having the easiest time with her pregnancy," Zikar mumbles. "I worry about what will happen to her. And my father worries too, even if he pretends he doesn't." "It will be alright," you reassure. "And even if it is not, you will not be alone." Zikar nods, swallowing. "You are right." <</if>> Your eyes shift towards the room once more and Zikar catches your look. Smiling at you, he nudges you forward. "Go on," he says. "I'll be alright." You nod in response, returning to the main part of the room. Glancing behind, you find that your cousin has begun to pace once more. It seems that despite your conversation, his worry for what will come has still not settled. [[Next.|chp4_16_landing]]

<<if $chp4_16d is 1>> "No one has," you reply sincerely. "I have made good friends, but nothing more than that." Your grandmother gazes at you, smiling softly. She reaches across the table, patting your wrist with her fingers, the warm touch gentle. "It is good to have friends," she responds. "Good friends will help you when you need it the most. The journey you have chosen is not an easy one, so it is good to know that you will have others to help you along the way." "I... thank you," you murmur. Your grandmother smiles. "I am happy for you, $name. It is good to see you flourishing even if I did not get to meet you as a child." <<elseif $chp4_16d is 2>> "No one," you mumble, though you think of Prince Irus. Your grandmother peers closely at you, her eyes taking in your expression and the way that you focus on eating, instead of meeting her gaze. A moment of silence passes before she lets out a breathy laugh. You look up, glancing at her and notice the teasing smile on her lips. "Zikar mentioned to me before that you seem closer to Prince Irus than others," she states. You frown. "He said what?" "Do not blame Zikar," your grandmother replies. "I was nosy and wanted to know more about you and who you might be interested in." <<if $chp3_tender_irus is true>> You remember the moment you spent with Prince Irus on the balcony and the softness in his gaze. Shaking away the memories, you look at your grandmother.<</if>> "Well, there's not much to talk about," you mumble. <<elseif $chp4_16d is 3>> "No one," you answer, your mind drifting to Queen Elora. Your grandmother peers closely at you, her eyes taking in your expression and the way that you focus on eating, instead of meeting her gaze. A moment of silence passes before she lets out a breathy laugh. You look up, glancing at her and notice the teasing smile on her lips. "Are you quite certain?" she asks. "When you came to the shop the other day with Zikar and your friend, I thought I saw the two of you acting quite affectionately." Your eyes widen at your grandmother's words and you stare at her in surprise. Had she been watching you with Queen Elora that closely? You had almost forgotten about that day, in the chaos of the banquet and everything that followed. <<if $chp3_tender_elora is true>> You recall the way Queen Elora gazed at you, the softness of her curls and the gentle way she smiled at you in the garden. But the memory only serves to give away your feelings to your grandmother and you force them away.<</if>> "I... it's nothing," you answer. <<elseif $chp4_16d is 4>> "No one," you reply as you recall Sir Oren's smile. Your grandmother peers closely at you, her eyes taking in your expression and the way that you focus on eating, instead of meeting her gaze. A moment of silence passes before she lets out a breathy laugh. You look up, glancing at her and notice the teasing smile on her lips. "You know, I thought you might be attracted to that guard who escorted you and Prince Irus. What was her name again? Nerena?" your grandmother asks. You nearly laugh in response, the thought of Nerena being the source of your attraction implausible. No, it is not Nerena but Sir Oren that has managed to steal your attention. Your grandmother must notice the subtle change in your expression, because she leans closer. "It is not Nerena then, but another guard?" she questions. <<if $chp3_tender_oren is true>> You remember the way Sir Oren grabbed you, keeping you from falling over, his touch still lingering on your arms. Shaking away the thoughts, you force Sir Oren out of your mind as your return your attention to your grandmother.<</if>> "It's really nothing," you answer. <</if>> Your grandmother leans away, offering you a soft smile. "Do you know anything about your grandfather?" You frown. "My grandfather?" "Yes, Salyra and Belahm's father, Muzal," your grandmother answers. "We married when I was still so young, but it was love at first sight." "What happened to him?" you ask, suddenly curious. Your grandmother's smile falls and she turns her attention to the table, brushing her fingers against the tablecloth. "He was injured during the war in Ishari. I... we tried to save him, but it was too late." "I am sorry," you murmur. "It is alright," she says. "There are some sacrifices that cannot be avoided. But I thought you would like to know more about him." <<set $chp4_16d_1 to 0>> [["What was he like?" you ask in wonder.|chp4_16d_2][$chp4_16d_1 +=1]] [["How did you meet?" you question, curious about your grandmother's past.|chp4_16d_2][$chp4_16d_1 +=2]] [["Was he fighting in the war?" you ask, wondering about his death.|chp4_16d_2][$chp4_16d_1 +=3]]

<<if $chp4_16d_1 is 1>> "What was he like?" you ask in wonder. Your grandmother smiles, a hint of nostalgia in her expression as she turns inwards to her memories. "Muzal was headstrong. In Ishari, most of us are farmers. During the harvest seasons, everyone is busy but during the moments of quiet, many of us were free to do as we pleased," she explains. "Your grandfather was a poet, a good one at that too. He often recited his poems in the streets." You were not expecting your grandfather to be a poet, though by the way your grandmother speaks of him, you can tell that she truly loved him. <<elseif $chp4_16d_1 is 2>> "How did you meet?" you question, curious about your grandmother's past. Your grandmother smiles at that, glancing at you with a hint of mischief. "We met during the fire cleansing festival." "What's that?" you ask, suddenly aware of how little you know about your heritage. "It is a ritual we would perform in spring, to bring good fortune," your grandmother answers. "After the ritual is performed, there is always a feast and celebration. Your grandfather asked me for a dance and I accepted." "It sounds nice," you murmur. She smiles, her thoughts turned to her memories. "It was. Before the war, things were not so bad, $name." <<elseif $chp4_16d_1 is 3>> "Was he fighting in the war?" you ask, wondering about his death. Your grandmother looks down at her fingers, her eyebrows furrowing. For a moment, she does not speak and you fear that you have brought up memories that she would have rather kept forgotten. When she looks up at you, her gaze is filled with sorrow. "By the time the war started, your grandfather and I were too old to fight," she explains. "What happened?" you ask. "We had to leave our home," your grandmother replies. "The Blood Guard had started attacking Ishari closer to our home and Muzal didn't think it was safe. We were going to stay with family, closer to the temple." She pauses, her eyes distant in thought. You cannot help the pang of remorse that worms its way into your stomach, twisting at you at the sight of your grandmother's pain. "When we were leaving, the Blood Guard were already there and your grandfather tried to stop them. We didn't know he was hurt until we managed to flee. By then, it was too late. The healers couldn't do anything for him." "I am sorry," you breathe. Your grandmother smiles, though it is pained. "He died trying to keep us safe. Muzal would have wanted nothing less." <</if>> Glancing at you, your grandmother takes in your expression, her smile turning softer. She reaches out, clutching at your hands, as if afraid to let go. "Life is too short to let fear hold you back, $name," she says. "I know the others are worried about you, I am too, but I know that you are doing what you think is right. Your grandfather would have been proud of you if he was still alive." <<set $chp4_16d_2 to 0>> [["Thank you, Ama," you breathe, feeling tears gather at the corner of your eyes.|chp4_16d_3][$chp4_16d_2 +=1]] [["I hope that I can make you proud too," you respond with a smile.|chp4_16d_3][$chp4_16d_2 +=2]] [["Even if I do not know much of my Ishari heritage?" you ask, looking down.|chp4_16d_3][$chp4_16d_2 +=3]] [["I am afraid that I will fail," you admit, swallowing your doubt.|chp4_16d_3][$chp4_16d_2 +=4]]

<<if $chp4_16d_2 is 1>> "Thank you, Ama," you breathe, feeling tears gather at the corner of your eyes. Your grandmother grips your hands tighter, her smile warm as she gazes across the table at you. There is something anchoring in the way that she holds you, filling you with the affection you have craved as a child. Your lips pull up into a smile to match your grandmother's and for a long time, neither of you speak. "It is alright, $name," she responds. "You are my grandchild. Even if we have met late in life, I am glad that Ehulla brought you to me. This journey you are one is something that you must do. I feel it in my bones." <<elseif $chp4_16d_2 is 2>> "I hope that I can make you proud too," you respond with a smile. "Oh, $name," your grandmother breathes. "You are my grand$heir. I will always be proud of you, no matter what." She brings her hand up to cup your face. Her fingers are rough, but no less warm against your skin. You let out a breath, leaning into her palm so that you can bask in her warmth for as long as you can. Eventually, your grandmother pulls her hand away. "No matter what you do, we are proud of you $name," she says. "You have already overcome so much. I know you will be able to overcome what lies ahead." <<elseif $chp4_16d_2 is 3>> "Even if I do not know much of my Ishari heritage?" you ask, looking down. Your grandmother lets out a breath, her fingers tightening around yours. The touch draws your attention to her once more and you find that she watches you with a frown, her eyes gentle. "$name, just because you do not know anything about Ishari does not make you any less Ishari," she responds. "You share our blood and that is enough. Zikar has never left Vinia, but he is Ishari as much as you." You nod, though the doubt still lingers in the back of your mind. As if sensing this, your grandmother leans closer, her eyes meeting yours. "We are not Ishari because of the gods we believe in or because of where we come from," she says. "It is in our blood. No matter what happens, you are a part of our family. We will always be proud of you." <<elseif $chp4_16d_2 is 4>> "I am afraid that I will fail," you admit, swallowing your doubt. Your grandmother smiles kindly at you, her fingers rubbing small circles above your wrist. She waits until you look up, her eyes locking with yours before speaking. "We are all afraid, $name. It is what makes us alive," she says. "You have already overcome so much without us. I know that you can succeed in helping Prince Irus. I feel it deep in my bones." You nod at her, swallowing the rise of warmth that spreads through you. Knowing that she believes in you is enough to steady your nerves and calm your mind. "Thank you," you murmur. <</if>> Pulling her hands back, your grandmother looks down at the bowls which are now empty. She smiles widely. "Good, you have eaten," she says. "Go on then. I'll clear up the table." "I can help," you offer. "No," she replies, waving you off. "You have a big journey ahead of you. Do not tire yourself with this." She pushes the clay pot she packed for Prince Irus towards you. "Give him my regards, hm?" You clutch at the pot and nod. "I will, Ama." [[Next.|chp4_16_landing]]

It is not difficult to find Prince Irus. After asking a few attendants about his whereabouts, you quickly find yourself heading towards his chambers. The door is ajar when you arrive and peering in, you find Prince Irus staring through the window in his room. He does not notice you at the doorway and you pause, taking in his appearance. Any semblance of remaining calm has now been replaced by nerves. Prince Irus' hair has been mussed, as if he has run his hand through the strands, trying to pull them out. There is a worried crease along his forehead, his eyebrows pressed so low to his blue eyes that it reminds of the way he seemed when you first had to flee Salt Bay. You step into his room, his eyes suddenly shifting so that they find yours. "$name," he murmurs. "I didn't see you there." You shrug, stepping closer. His room is nearly identical to yours, except now, there is a wooden chest where you spy his meagre belongings already packed. "Is something the matter?" he asks, studying your face. <<set $chp4_18a to 0>> [["I wanted to check on you," you respond softly.|chp4_18a_1][$chp4_18a +=1, $irusRel +=5]] [[♡"No," you stammer. "I just... wanted to see you."|chp4_18a_1][$chp4_18a +=2, $irusRel +=5, $irusRom +=5, $flirt_shy +=5]] [[♡"I could not stay away from you," you tease.|chp4_18a_1][$chp4_18a +=3, $irusRel +=5, $irusRom +=5, $flirt_bold +=5]] [["No," you answer. "I wanted to speak to you before we leave."|chp4_18a_1][$chp4_18a +=4, $irusRel +=5]]

Finding Queen Elora proves to be more difficult than you first thought it would be. She is not in the Grand Council Room nor is she in the gardens of the palace. As you walk down the hallways, you stop to ask a few of the guards stationed along the walls about the Queen's whereabouts. But you need not have bothered to. "$name?" Turning around, you find Queen Elora, flanked by two of her guards. Her hair now lies against her shoulders in wild curls. The material of her dress is rumpled, creases gathering in the heavy skirts and you realise that neither one of you has had a chance to change from what you chose to wear for the banquet. "I heard you were looking for me," Queen Elora explains. She gestures for you to follow. "It is better if we speak in private than out in the hallways." You step beside Queen Elora as she leads you deeper into the palace. Her guards are vigilant as they follow her, their eyes alert and their hands resting close to their scabbards. Neither of you speak much as you make your way through the hallways and eventually emerge into a part of the palace you have not been in before. "The Royal Wing," Queen Elora states, glancing at you. "It is where my chambers are. We can speak there without worrying about being overheard." [[Next.|chp4_18b_1]]

Finding Sir Oren is easy enough. You follow the retinue of guards that hurry past you in the hallways. They lead you towards the lower floors of the palace, where the barracks is located. There are guards stationed at the entrance of the barracks, perhaps on guard against any Blood Guard spies that might have lingered behind. You expect to be stopped in your approach, but the guards on duty only nod to you as you pass. Perhaps they have been briefed on the plan for tomorrow or perhaps you are simply not threatening enough to be bothered. Once you are past the entrance, your eyes scan the chaos before you. Guards stand in groups while others carry crates of gleaming blades. Your eyes follow their movements, the hurried steps and the barked out orders given. It is difficult to keep out of the way and more than once, you are jostled to the side. "$name?" You turn and catch a glimpse of Nerena. Her hair has been plaited tightly and she dons metal armour that must weigh enough to be uncomfortable. Her eyebrows furrow when you do not speak and she lets out a tired breath. She looks harried, much like the rest of the guards and you wonder if they are ready to face the Blood Guard threat. "I'm not going to ask why you're here," she mutters. "If you're looking for Oren, he's inside his office." She points towards a small building on the other side of the open grounds. You nod in thanks, but Nerena has already turned away and left. With a sigh, you push through the guards towards Sir Oren's office. [[Next.|chp4_18c_1]]

<<if $chp4_18a is 1>> "I wanted to check on you," you respond softly. Prince Irus' expression turns sincere and he smiles warmly at you. "Thank you, $name." You glance around his room. The bed is made and his things already packed. You remember his fear from earlier, the gnawing worry that plagued him and when you look up, you find the same look in his eyes. You offer Prince Irus an encouraging smile. "It will be alright," you say. "We have done this before, we can do it again." He nods, but his smile turns flat. "I worry that I am only placing everyone in danger, $name. And I worry that things will only become more difficult when we leave for Ishari." "Even so," you reply, "we will be together. You are not alone in this journey, Irus." He smiles at you, a genuine warmth in his eyes. You are glad to see the tension bleeding out of him. "Thank you, $name." <<elseif $chp4_18a is 2>> "No," you stammer. "I just... wanted to see you." Your nervousness does not go unnoticed by Prince Irus. He peers at you, almost fighting a smile as he strides closer to you until there is barely any space left between you. You swallow, your skin warm and your heartbeat racing under your chest. Perhaps it was not such a good idea to come to Prince Irus in his room. You cannot seem to think clearly, not over the rush of blood that drowns out the sound of your short breaths. Prince Irus is only a fraction away from touching you and as you gaze at his blue eyes, your mouth grows dry. He smiles at you, drinking in your features as his eyes rake over your flustered expression. "Oh?" he asks, his breath warm on your face. "Did you miss me that much?" "What?" you blurt. You blink, struggling to think. "No. I mean, I was just worried about you." His smile widens into a smirk and he reaches out, brushing the side of your cheek with his finger. "Why are you worried, $name? I am alright. I have you to comfort me." The insinuation in his tone leaves no room for doubt and you stumble back, warm all over and suddenly working over exactly what Prince Irus meant by his words. He chuckles at your response, drawing away slightly, but still in reach if you lifted your arm. "I am doing alright, $name," he says. "It is sweet of you to come to see me." "Oh," you mumble. "I mean, I am glad." <<elseif $chp4_18a is 3>> "I could not stay away from you," you tease. Your tone catches his attention and soon, Prince Irus is sauntering towards you. It is hard to fight off the smile that tugs at your lips and you peer at his expression, the mirth overtaking the worry that had been there before. As Prince Irus comes to stand before you, you take in his features. He is as handsome as he has always been and you nearly reach out to stroke the side of his face. "I do have that effect on people," he murmurs. His breath is warm as it brushes along your skin. You shudder as your stomach tightens in anticipation. In the chaos of what happened after the banquet, you had almost forgotten how much you enjoy your flirtation with Prince Irus. Gazing at him, your eyes shift along his features before they settle on his lips. "I suppose you do," you respond with a smile. "Why, $name, you look absolutely smitten with me," Prince Irus chuckles. He reaches out, his fingers grasping your chin before they slide along your cheek. His touch is warm and your skin tingles with heat as you meet his gaze. There is a faint smirk on his lips and you realise that he is enjoying this as much as you. "That is odd," you breathe. "I could say the same thing about you." Another laugh escapes him, before he relinquishes his hold of your face. You almost grab him, to stop him from moving away but he merely stands where he is, his gaze soft as it lingers on you. "Thank you, $name," he murmurs. "It seems that it is hard to feel quite so worried when you are around." <<elseif $chp4_18a is 4>> "No," you answer. "I wanted to speak to you before we leave." Prince Irus glances at you, his blue eyes softening at your words. He nods and with it, you draw closer to where he stands. Your eyes shift over his room, nearly identical to yours except his belongings have already been packed. You turn to look at Prince Irus and catch him running his hand through his hair, causing the strands to stick up on one side. "You did not have to do that, $name," he says. "I wanted to," you reply. You offer him a small smile. "You still seem nervous." Prince Irus lets out a strained sound at your words, glancing away. "I worry what will happen after we leave. My uncle is not known for being merciful." You nod, your own worries about Vinia and your family filling your mind. Still, lingering on them will not help them, nor will it help Prince Irus. You glance at him, waiting until he meets your gaze. "It will be alright," you reassure. "I know that it will. Besides, the Blood Guard are after you. Your uncle will have to go through the Vinian Royal Guard if he tries to overthrow Vinia too." Prince Irus sighs. "You are right. I... sometimes I think that it might be better if I gave up, but knowing my uncle and his wrath, I know that this is the right decision. Thank you, $name." You smile. "I am only glad to have helped." <</if>> [[Next.|chp4_18a_2]]

You fall into silence, a comfortable quiet that settles over the room. Your eyes drift towards Prince Irus and you find that he is gazing at the clay pot in your hands. You had almost forgotten about the meal your grandmother sent with you. "Here," you say, handing over the pot. "My grandmother thought you'd like one of her meals before we left." A smile pulls at the corner of Prince Irus' lips and he accepts the pot. "That was kind of her." He pauses, his eyes meeting yours. "I heard that you visited your family. How did they react when you told them that you were leaving?" "They were upset, but they understood why I was leaving," you answer. Prince Irus nods, frowning slightly. "I am sorry that I am taking you away from your family. I know that it must be difficult for you." <<set $chp4_18a_2 to 0>> [["It is hard," you agree. "But I am doing this because I want to help you."|chp4_18a_3][$chp4_18a_2 +=1, $irusRel +=5]] [["You are the rightful ruler of Cyre," you respond. "I will help you reclaim the throne because it is what is right."|chp4_18a_3][$chp4_18a_2 +=2, $irusRel +=5]] [[♡"I will miss my family, but I... would miss you even more if I stayed behind," you mumble.|chp4_18a_3][$chp4_18a_2 +=3, $irusRel +=5, $irusRom +=5, $flirt_shy +=5]] [[♡"My family know my reasons for leaving," you respond. "It is because of you, Irus. I will go wherever you go."|chp4_18a_3][$chp4_18a_2 +=4, $irusRel +=5, $irusRom +=5, $flirt_bold +=5]]

<center><<if $irus_lock is true>>Choosing to pursue a romance with Prince Irus now means that you will be locked out of romancing any other romance options. You will still be able to flirt with the other characters, but you will not be able to pursue a relationship with them. Are you sure that you want to proceed? [[Yes, I am sure. I want to pursue Prince Irus.|chp4_18a_4a1]] <<return "Actually, I want to make a different choice.">><<elseif $irus_lock is false>>Choosing to end your romance with Prince Irus now means that you will no longer get any flirt or romance options with him in the future. You will be locked out of his romance route for the rest of the game. Are you sure that you want to proceed? [[Yes, I am sure. I want to end my romance with Prince Irus.|chp4_18a_4a1]] <<return "Actually, I want to make a different choice.">><</if>></center>

<<if $chp4_18a_2 is 1>> "It is hard," you agree. "But I am doing this because I want to help you." Your tone is sincere and you know that despite the trepidations of leaving behind a family you have only just met, you are willing to help Prince Irus because of the companionship you have shared. He catches your gaze, smiling softly at you as you stare at each other. "I... thank you, $name," Prince Irus breathes. He looks away, visibly swallowing. "It is good to know that there is someone who believes me." Your eyebrows furrow. "People believe in you, Irus. I think it is time that you start believing in yourself." He nods, meeting your eyes once more. There is a determination in his gaze, one that was absent only seconds earlier. "I will try," he responds. <<elseif $chp4_18a_2 is 2>> "You are the rightful ruler of Cyre," you respond. "I will help you reclaim the throne because it is what is right." There is no telling what will happen if Virion continues unchallenged. You know that he aims to end Prince Irus' claim, whether it be through banishment or through death. Still, the Blood Guard cannot continue in their path, not without causing bloodshed and pain to those who find themselve in their path. "Is it right?" Prince Irus asks, glancing away. "It is," you reply. "It is what your father wanted." You do not mention that his father was also responsible for the Blood Guard, though you know that you cannot dance around the topic indefinitely. Prince Irus sighs, "I suppose there is no other choice, is there?" You shrug. "Not unless your uncle is willing to negotiate through words." "You are right," he answers. "This must be done, for the good of Cyre and everyone else." <<elseif $chp4_18a_2 is 3>> "I will miss my family, but I... would miss you even more if I stayed behind," you mumble. The moment the words leave your lips, you feel heat surging up your neck and settling over your cheeks. You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry and your heartbeat too loud. Glancing at Prince Irus, you catch a strange expression on his face. It is not quite amusement, though he seems to be smirking at you. "$name," he calls, his eyes meeting yours. "I am flattered that you would miss me enough to join me on my journey, but I would not want your feelings to get in the way of your decision." You avert your eyes, struggling to hear over the rush of blood in your ears. "I want to accompany you." The words are truthful, you realise. Since fleeing Salt Bay, you have spent more time with Prince Irus than anyone else you have met during your time in Vinia. It is nearly impossible to fathom a future without Prince Irus by your side. You steal a glance at his face and find that he is smiling widely at you. "Thank you, $name," he replies. "I am grateful to have you with me." <<elseif $chp4_18a_2 is 4>> "My family know my reasons for leaving," you respond. "It is because of you, Irus. I will go wherever you go." Your words are blunt in their meaning and any unspoken feeling now lies exposed for Prince Irus to see. You stare at him, your eyes shifting over his features, lingering on the brightness of his gaze. He does not speak for a moment and you begin to wonder if your feelings are too much for him. But he quickly steps closer, drawing you into a warm embrace. A breath escapes you as Prince Irus' arms encircle you. His hold is warm and his chest solid against you. You are faintly aware of the scent of wine on his breath and the heat of his fingers around your waist. "You truly mean that," he breathes. You turn, facing him fully. "I do." His eyes search your face, taking in your features as if committing it to memory. A heat spreads through you, slow at first until in devours your skin to the tips of your fingers. You reach out, cupping Prince Irus' face in your palm. "You will not be alone anymore," you murmur. "I promise you that." <</if>><<if $chp3_irus_kiss is 1>> [[Next.|chp4_18a_4a]]<<elseif $chp3_irus_kiss is 2>>[[Next.|chp4_18a_4a]]<<elseif $chp3_irus_kiss is 3>>[[Next.|chp4_18a_4a]]<<elseif $chp3_irus_kiss is 4>>[[Next.|chp4_18a_4a]]<<else>>[[Next.|chp4_18a_4][$irusRom -=100]]<</if>>

<<if $chp3_kissingIrus is true>>As you gaze at Prince Irus, your thoughts turn to the kiss you shared on the balcony. Your face warms at the memory and you can still feel the lingering touch of his mouth on yours. It is hard to focus on anything else, now that the memory of what happened fills your thoughts. You glance at Prince Irus, finding his eyes already on you.<<elseif $chp3_kissingIrus is false and $chp3_irus_kiss is 4>>As you gaze at Prince Irus, you think about the moment you shared on the balcony with him. He had been warm and his gaze soft as he stared at you and you feel a surge of warmth at the memory.<</if>> You cannot ignore what happened, not when you will be spending so much time together. As if sensing your thoughts, Prince Irus speaks first. "$name," he murmurs. "After everything that has happened, I will not fault you if you wanted to end things now." He gazes at you, a sincerity in his gaze that speaks of the truthfulness of his words. <<set $ch4_18a_3a to 0>> [["I... do not want to end things," you breathe.|chp4_18a_4_popup][$ch4_18a_3a +=1, $irus_lock to true, $irusRel +=5, $irusRom +=5, $flirt_shy +=5, $relationship to true]] [["I want to see where things go between us," you respond with a smile.|chp4_18a_4_popup][$ch4_18a_3a +=2, $irus_lock to true, $irusRel +=5, $irusRom +=5, $flirt_bold +=5, $relationship to true]] [["You are right," you murmur. "After everything that has happened, I think it is best if we end things."|chp4_18a_4_popup][$ch4_18a_3a +=3, $irusRom -=100]]

Prince Irus draws away, sighing as his gaze sweeps along the room. You catch his eyes lingering on his belongings, neatly packed in the wooden chest. In a way, neither of you know what you will face in the upcoming days and even weeks, but you know that you will not be alone. "I thought that coming to Vinia would have solved everything," Prince Irus sighs. "But it seems that nothing is as simple when it comes to my uncle." You gaze at him, taking in the crease against his forehead. "It is why you need to defeat him." Your words are spoken with conviction because the alternative to Prince Irus reclaiming the throne is allowing Virion to continue his reign through the use of the Blood Guard. The prospect of more war and deaths weighs heavily on you and glancing at Prince Irus, you realise that it lingers in his thoughts too. <<set $chp4_18a_4 to 0>> [["I will be with you no matter what," you breathe. "You are not alone in this, Irus."|chp4_18a_5][$chp4_18a_4 +=1, $irusRel +=5]] <<if $irus_lock is true>> [[You reach out, gripping his fingers in yours, reassuring him that he is not alone.|chp4_18a_5][$chp4_18a_4 +=2, $irusRel +=5, $irusRom +=5]] [[Reaching out, you cup his face in your hands before pressing your mouth to his.|chp4_18a_5][$chp4_18a_4 +=3, $irusRel +=5, $irusRom +=5]]<</if>> [["It is alright to feel scared," you murmur. "You need to find courage from those who are depending on you."|chp4_18a_5][$chp4_18a_4 +=4, $irusRel +=5]] [[You hug Prince Irus, hoping to convey what words cannot.|chp4_18a_5][$chp4_18a_4 +=5, $irusRel +=5]]

<<if $ch4_18a_3a is 1>> "I... do not want to end things," you breathe. The words are hesitant, nearly afraid as you speak them but they are truer than anything you have ever said before. You want to explore your growing feelings for Prince Irus, even if you are unsure what to expect. As you gaze at Prince Irus, you catch his eyes lingering your face, searching your eyes as if trying to decipher your words. "You do not?" he asks. "Even after my uncle and the Blood Guard threatened everyone?" You shake your head. "I do not care about them, Irus. I care about you." Prince Irus smiles at you, wider this time and the sight sends a rush of warmth through you. You find yourself mirroring his expression, knowing that you both feel the same towards each other. "You are truly magnificent, $name," he breathes, drawing you close. "I do not know what I would do without you." [[Next.|chp4_18a_4a2]] <<elseif $ch4_18a_3a is 2>> "I want to see where things go between us," you respond with a smile. There is nothing coy about your declaration. In the time that you have come to know Prince Irus, your feelings for him have only grown. It is difficult to think of the possibilities of a life where you did not pursue your growing attraction for him. "Truly?" he asks. Your lips pull into a teasing grin. "Did you want me to reject you?" He gazes at your mouth, letting his eyes trail up along your nose until they finally reach your eyes. It is hard to look away, when Prince Irus gazes at you with such intensity. A smirk settles across the fullness of his lips and when he speaks, his breath tickles your face. "Do not jest, $name," he murmurs. "We both know that you could never reject me." [[Next.|chp4_18a_4a2]] <<elseif $ch4_18a_3a is 3>> "You are right," you murmur. "After everything that has happened, I think it is best if we end things." So much has happened since you first met Prince Irus. In the chaos of escaping the Blood Guard and arriving at Vinia, your feelings have grown for him and yet, after everything that has happened with his uncle, you are beginning to rethink your feelings. It is not the right time to start a relationship and you are still uncertain if you want to pursue anything serious with Prince Irus. Gazing at you, Prince Irus nods. "I understand, $name." You meet his eyes. "You are not angry?" He lets out a breath before smiling at you. You study his expression, perhaps expecting a hint of annoyance, but there is none. There is a tenderness in his gaze that leaves you warm. "I am not mad at you, $name," he responds. "How can I fault you for your feelings? It is alright if you do not wish to pursue anything further. Your friendship is more than enough for me." [[Next.|chp4_18a_4]] <</if>>

You did not expect to find yourself in a relationship with Prince Irus when you chose to find him tonight, yet, standing before him, you know that you made the right choice. Prince Irus catches your gaze and he smirks at you, teasing and warm. It sends heat though you, a swirling twist of anticipation and yearning that tugs you closer to him. "$name," he breathes. His eyes roam your face, lingering on your eyes. "Tell me what you expect from our courtship. I will take you in any form that you are willing to give." <<set $irus_physical to false>> [["I am content in just being with you, without the physical intimacy that comes from courtship," you murmur.|chp4_18a_4a3]] [["I want to be with you and everything that it entails," you respond, thinking of his touch.|chp4_18a_4a3][$irus_physical to true]]

Prince Irus smiles at you, his fingers stroking the side of your face. "It is odd," he murmurs. "Before I was exiled, I spent most of my time in the beds of nobles and courtiers. It helped pass the time, but they never made me feel like this." You glance at him, a questioning look on your face. "Like what?" The smile eases from his lips, affection evident in his gaze. "You have made me feel more human than anyone has ever cared to try. When I am with you, I do not feel like a useless prince, hidden away from the rest of the court. I am free to be myself – I am allowed to laugh. To //feel//." He pauses then, a mischievous grin on his face as he reaches down to take your hand. In one swift motion, he flips your hand over, pressing a kiss to the inside of the wrist. You shiver, the press of his lips on your wrist enough to send a flush of heat through you. "You have done more for me than anyone has ever tried to," he breathes. "Thank you, $name." [[Next.|chp4_18a_4]]

<<if $chp4_18a_4 is 1>> "I will be with you no matter what," you breathe. "You are not alone in this, Irus." He turns towards you, meeting your gaze evenly. A flicker of relief passes across his features, his lips parting into a soft smile. He reaches out, his hands clasping yours in his hold, warmth spreading from his fingers where they grip your wrist. "Thank you, $name," he replies. "I sometimes forget that I am no longer alone in the task that I must accomplish." You wonder about the type of life that Prince Irus must have led as a prince by birth, but not truly in name until his father's death. Many had not known of his existence until now and yet, watching him before you is as if you are staring at a young boy who is uncertain of what to do or say. "There are many who will help you," you respond. "You need to believe in yourself, just like we believe in you." He smiles then, a genuine flash of warmth in his expression. "I will." <<elseif $chp4_18a_4 is 2>> You reach out, gripping his fingers in yours, reassuring him that he is not alone. His fingers are warm on yours, the pads of his fingers no longer as calloused as they had been when you arrived in Vinia. He stares at your linked fingers, his slipping between your knuckles so that they are intertwined. He brushes his thumb over the back of your hand, enough to send a shiver down your spine. You look up, finding his gaze on you. It is enough to send your heartbeat racing and your breath to lodge itself in your throat. You can barely look away from his gaze, suddenly wanting nothing more than to draw him into you and never let go. "I could never have imagined that I would have someone like you by my side for what is to come," he murmurs. "Thank you, $name. I know that words are not enough to express my gratitude, but I hope you know how much I mean it." His words are low, barely above a whisper as though he speaks only for you. A shudder runs down your spine and you tighten your grip, his hand solid and warm against yours. "You do not need to thank me," you murmur. A small smirk pulls at his lips. "I can think of many ways to thank you, $name." <<if $flirt_bold gt $flirt_shy>> You meet his smirk with your own, suddenly alight with the possibilities of ways he could express his gratitude.<<else>>Heat blossoms along your cheeks and you look away, swallowing down the anticipation as you think about the ways he can show his gratitude.<</if>> <<elseif $chp4_18a_4 is 3>> Reaching out, you cup his face in your hands before pressing your mouth to his.<<if $chp3_kissingIrus is true>> This is nothing like the kiss you shared on the balcony. There is nothing chaste nor gentle about the way Prince Irus' fingers slip around your face, his fingers tugging you closer until it is difficult to know where your lips begin and where his end.<<elseif $chp3_kissingIrus is false>> Prince Irus lets out a surprised sound, before his arms snake around your waist and draw you closer to him. The kiss is soft, a gentle peck along your lips before he kisses you again until you can no longer think beyond the heat that tugs at your mouth.<</if>> You break away, only for a moment to swallow in a breath but it does not take long for Prince Irus to press closer, swallowing your mouth with his. His tongue darts out, a flicker of a stroke but it elicits a short gasp from you. It is enough for his tongue to slip between your parted lips, exploring your essence as if he is a man dying of thirst. Your hand slides from the back of his head down the side of his neck and into his hair, nails scratching at his scalp. A low groan leaves him, rumbling deep in his chest as you both lean forward once again, meeting in the middle. You are lost in him – in how his body feels warm against your touch and in how his taste lingers on your tongue. When you eventually part, you find that Prince Irus is nearly as breathless as you. He presses his forehead against yours, his fingers cupping your chin in his grip as if he was cradling something incredibly fragile. "Perhaps I should sulk more often if that is how you intend on cheering me up," he chuckles. <<if $flirt_bold gt $flirt_shy>> You grin at him, your eyes searching his face. "Perhaps you should."<<elseif $flirt_shy gt $flirt_bold>>Your cheeks heat at his words and you feel a shudder run down your spine as his laughter rolls through his chest, reverberating through your hands.<</if>> <<elseif $chp4_18a_4 is 4>> "It is alright to feel scared," you murmur. "You need to find courage from those who are depending on you." Prince Irus' eyes soften at your words and a flicker of a smile graces his lips. He glances down at his hands, his expression thoughtful. When he finally glances at you once more, there is a determined glint in his eyes. You do not know the circumstances of his past, nor do you know the life he must have led. But what you are certain of is that without him, no one will be safe from Virion and the Blood Guard. "You are right," he breathes. "Of course you are right. There are many who are depending on me and I cannot simply allow myself to become burdened with the pressure." "There is nothing wrong with that," you explain. "But I hope that you know that you are not alone in your task. Queen Elora is helping you and so is Lord Redall. There are people who will support you, Irus, no matter what happens." He nods, smiling softly. "Thank you, $name. When I start to doubt myself, I will think of your kindness." <<elseif $chp4_18a_4 is 5>> You hug Prince Irus, hoping to convey what words cannot. He has become a steadfast companion in the the time that you travelled together. It it upsetting to see him so worried, full of fear of what to expect in the upcoming journey. Prince Irus' task is not an easy one and from what you have learnt about his past, he was never truly trained to become a ruler. Prince Irus sighs, his arms stretching around you as he settles into your embrace. He is warm and solid, though his heartbeat thuds loudly against his chest, and you feel it pressed against you. You turn, your eyes meeting his and you smile. "I know that you will succeed in this task, Irus," you murmur. "It is not an easy one, but if anyone can do it, it is you." He nods, matching your smile with one of his own. The gesture eases the tension that gathered along his forehead, smoothing out the creases that marred his expression. "Thank you," he says, pulling away from your hold. "It means a lot to know that you are willing to help me." "Of course," you reply. "It is what friends are for." <</if>> [[Next.|chp4_18a_6]]

Prince Irus sighs, glancing at the rest of the room once again. You watch him, noting the tiredness in his gaze and you realise how late it already is. He turns to you, a faint smile on his lips. "I suppose I should try to get some rest," he says. "We will be leaving in a few hours. I doubt we will have much time to rest after we depart." You nod at him. "I suspect you might be right. I will leave you to your rest then." Prince Irus smiles wider, as you turn away and begin heading out of his room. Before you can step beyond the doorway, Prince Irus calls out to you. <<if $irus_lock is true>> "$name," he murmurs. "No matter what happens, I am most looking forward to sharing my time with you." His words are affectionate and tug at your chest, heat pooling in your stomach. You can barely stop your smile. "I feel the same, Irus. Goodnight."<<else>> "$name," he says. "No matter what happens, I am grateful to have your friendship." You smile at him, the sincerity of his tone warming you. "You are welcome, Irus. Goodnight."<</if>> [[Next.|chp4_18_landing]]

The hallways are still nearly empty when you step out. You let out a tired breath. It is late, though the guards are alert and watch you as you walk down the hallway of the palace.<<if $chp4_RO_visit lt 3>> There are still others you can talk to before you have to leave. <<if $chp4_visit_irus is false>> [[You seek out Prince Irus.|chp4_18a][$chp4_RO_visit +=1, $chp4_visit_irus to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp4_visit_el is false>> [[You decide to speak to Queen Elora.|chp4_18b][$chp4_RO_visit +=1, $chp4_visit_el to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp4_visit_oren is false>> [[You search for Sir Oren.|chp4_18c][$chp4_RO_visit +=1, $chp4_visit_oren to true]]<</if>> [[You are tired and wish to return to your chambers to prepare yourself for your departure.|chp4_19]]<<elseif $chp4_RO_visit is 3>> The hour grows late the longer you remain in the hallway. With no one left to talk to, you return to your chamber to pack your few belongings before you leave. [[Next.|chp4_19]]<</if>>

As you return to your room, you find that most of your belongings have already been placed in a wooden chest, undoubtedly by the numerous attendants employed at the palace. You go through the chest, satisfied that nothing is missing before slumping onto the bed. Fatigue weighs down on you heavily, the worry of what is to come a niggling thought in the back of your mind. When sleep finally claims you, you are grateful that is as dreamless as it is deep. [[Next.|chp4_20]]

Queen Elora's chambers are far more elegant than your own. Hers are split into many different rooms, though you do not see beyond the sitting room where she guides you. Her guards move to stand on either side of the door, doing their best to pretend not to listen to your conversation. As you both take a seat on the velvet sofas, you allow your gaze to shift over the room. The walls are covered in rich tapestries and the floors are hidden by thick rugs, embroidered with images of roses. It is far more ornate than you thought it would have been and it seems that being the ruler of a kingdom comes with its own luxuries as much as it comes with its disadvantages. "What is it that you needed?" Queen Elora asks. Her mouth presses into a frown. "Is it Iri? I have tried my best to help him, but I know that it is a lot to process." <<set $chp4_18b_1 to 0>> [["I wanted to see how you were doing," you respond, smiling at her.|chp4_18b_2][$chp4_18b_1 +=1, $eloraRel +=5]] [[♡"I... I was worried about you," you admit, glancing away.|chp4_18b_2][$chp4_18b_1 +=2, $eloraRel +=5, $eloraRom +=5, $shy_elora +=5]] [[♡"I only wanted to see you, before I have to leave tomorrow," you purr, meeting her gaze.|chp4_18b_2][$chp4_18b_1 +=3, $eloraRel +=5, $eloraRom +=5, $bold_elora +=5]] [["It has been a difficult night for everyone," you murmur. "It cannot be any easier for you."|chp4_18b_2][$chp4_18b_1 +=4, $eloraRel +=5]] [["Irus is having a difficult time," you admit. "I, too, am unsure of what to expect tomorrow."|chp4_18b_2][$chp4_18b_1 +=5, $eloraRel +=5]]

<<if $chp4_18b_1 is 1>> "I wanted to see how you were doing," you respond, smiling at her. Queen Elora blinks, perhaps surprised by your words, but her surprise quickly gives way to her own smile. It eases the tension in her shoulders and the faint trace of worry that lingered in her gaze disappears into the darkness of her eyes. "That is sweet of you," Queen Elora replies. "I do not think I have been asked how I am doing since the start of this chaos." You gaze at her, noting the way her smile dims slightly. She lets out a tired breath, leaning against the back of the sofa. Her hair sprawls around her and her the skirts of her dress crease even more, though she seems unbothered. "It has been stressful," she confesses. "I have not had a moment to myself since Virion arrived and having to deal with the possibility of a war is nearly impossible with my mother breathing down my back." "I am sorry," you murmur. "It seems that Prince Irus' and my arrival has put you in a difficult position." Queen Elora frowns, glancing at you. "Do not apologise for seeking my aid, $name. I knew that Virion was bad, before he threatened me at the banquet." She smiles. "I am glad to have been able to help you and Iri, even if it was not in the way I had hoped to." <<elseif $chp4_18b_1 is 2>> "I... I was worried about you," you admit, glancing away. Queen Elora's eyes widen at your words, before she suddenly smiles. Her gaze, dark and endless, trace over your face, lingering on your lips before they raise to meet yours once again. She reaches towards you, her fingers gentle as they smooth over the back of your knuckles. "You are kinder than I deserve, $name," she murmurs. A smile pulls at her lips. "But please, do not worry yourself over me." You frown, swallowing a lump. While you will be facing a nearly impossible task ahead of you, you cannot help but worry about Queen Elora. Her reign over Vinia has been threatened by Virion and knowing that she will remain behind to face whatever political ramifications of helping you and Prince Irus while you flee does not settle well with you. "I cannot help it," you breathe. "I worry about what will happen to you when I leave." Queen Elora chuckles, the sound melodic. "I am quite capable of navigating politics, $name. There is no need to fret. That's my mother's task." You nod, smiling at her attempt at humour. Gazing down at where her fingers rest against the back of your palm, you know that Queen Elora is right. Whatever happens, she is more than capable of dealing with the affairs of her kingdom. <<elseif $chp4_18b_1 is 3>> "I only wanted to see you, before I have to leave tomorrow," you purr, meeting her gaze. Queen Elora raises an eyebrow at your tone, before a smirk pulls at the corners of her lips. She shifts closer to you on the sofa, uncaring when her dress bunches around her legs. Her hand slips against your cheek, drawing your eyes towards hers. She is warm and her skin, soft. This close, you can smell the faint perfume that still lingers in her hair. It is nearly intoxicating. "Oh?" she asks. Her eyes trace over your face, lingering on your mouth. "Is that all?" "Perhaps I was worried too," you respond. Your words seem to take her by surprise and Queen Elora's eyes dart to yours. She searches your face, any sign of flirtation now softened into a gentle look of affection. You cannot deny her beauty, nor the way your chest tightens at the way she looks at you. "You truly mean that," she murmurs. "It has been so long since anyone really worried about //me// and not the person I represent." A grin tugs at your lips. "I find that hard to believe. You are perhaps the most charming ruler I have ever met." Queen Elora laughs, the sound light and spills across you. When she laughs, she seems so much younger than she is, freer too. You almost mourn the loss of the sight as her laughter eases. "Perhaps you should speak to Iri when he is drunk," she responds. "I assure you, he is far more charming than me." <<elseif $chp4_18b_1 is 4>> "It has been a difficult night for everyone," you murmur. "It cannot be any easier for you." Queen Elora glances at you with a soft expression on her face. "No, it has not been any easier." You nod, settling on the sofa. Queen Elora lets out a strained breath, leaning against the back of the sofa. Her eyes shift over the tapestries on the walls, before they move towards the orantely decorated ceiling. "My mother thinks that I am incapable of making any decisions," she admits. "And I wonder if she is right." There is a forlorn expression on Queen Elora's face and you come to realise that her mother's opinion has weighed heavily on her shoulders in the past few hours. You reach out, patting her shoulder in reassurance. Queen Elora's eyes slip away from the ceiling as she turns to look at you. "I think that you are doing what you think is right," you reply. "And that is more than enough." She smiles, her eyes softening. "Thank you, $name." She looks down. "It is nice to feel appreciated." <<elseif $chp4_18b_1 is 5>> "Irus is having a difficult time," you admit. "I, too, am unsure of what to expect tomorrow." Queen Elora tilts her head, frowning as she gazes at you sorrowfully. "I am sorry, $name. It is a difficult task that you have been given. It must be frightening, having to leave and travel to Ishari." You swallow. "I do not remember much of Ishari. It has been so long since I was last there." Smiling, Queen Elora reaches out and squeezes your wrist gently, before withdrawing her touch. "Redall has been to Ishari many times over the years. You can ask him any question you have. And... I am sure that you will be welcomed back, $name." A sigh leaves you, the worries of everything that you will have to face finally weighing on your shoulders. "Are you certain?" Queen Elora's lips pull into an encouraging smile. "I am. Ishari is not Cyre, just like Vinia is not. Do not let what happened in your past stop you from travelling to Ishari." <</if>> [[Next.|chp4_18b_3]]

You both lapse into silence, neither breaking the lull in your conversation. Glancing at the guards behind you, you find that they are doing their best to stare at the wall behind your head. Queen Elora notices your glance and smiles, though the expression in her gaze is filled with sorrow. "I always thought that the guards following me were unwarranted," she explains. "But after Virion's arrival, perhaps it is not so unreasonable to have them at my side." "You did not like having your guards?" you question, curious. Queen Elora glances at you, searching your face. Perhaps she trusts you enough or perhaps it is because she knows that you will be gone after tomorrow, because she replies softly. "My father's death came as a shock to everyone," she breathes. "He was on a hunting trip." "And?" you prompt. "He was killed, $name," she answers. "While outside the palace, he and his guards were ambushed and he was injured. The assailants were caught, though we did not get any answers from them. Only the councillors know what truly happened. The rest of the kingdom were told that it was a hunting accident." You stare at Queen Elora, working over the implications of her words. If her father was ambushed then it meant that someone had ordered his death. You shake away the dizzying questions, turning your attention to Queen Elora. <<set $chp4_18b_3 to 0>> [["I am sorry," you breathe. "I know what it feels like to lose a father."|chp4_18b_4][$chp4_18b_3 +=1, $eloraRel +=5]] [["Were there no clues as to who was responsible?" you question.|chp4_18b_4][$chp4_18b_3 +=2]] [["It must have been hard for you to experience," you murmur.|chp4_18b_4][$chp4_18b_3 +=3, $eloraRel +=5]]

<<if $chp4_18b_3 is 1>> "I am sorry," you breathe. "I know what it feels like to lose a father." Queen Elora's gaze meets yours and she nods, smiling softly. "Then you understand the complex emotions of grief and anger?" You think about your relationship with Ahlf and then, his eventual death. It is hard to know what to make of your father's sacrifice. A hopeful part of you thinks that he sacrificed himself to save you. Yet, a niggling worm of doubt reminds you that your father was also helping Prince Irus. "Perhaps better than I would like to admit," you respond. <<elseif $chp4_18b_3 is 2>> "Were there no clues as to who was responsible?" you question. Queen Elora frowns, perhaps expecting more sympathy from you, though her expression does not last long. She turns away, in thought, as if trying to recall everything that happened all those years ago. When she speaks, it is with hesitation, as if afraid of voicing her thoughts. "When I took the throne, I ordered a full investigation into my father's death," she explains. "The weapon used was supposed to have come from a trading ship in the Southern Islands. My mother comes from the Southern Islands but I know that she was not responsible for my father's death. She was devastated when he died." "Then who could it be?" you ponder. Queen Elora shrugs. "I do not know. The investigation did not go beyond that." <<elseif $chp4_18b_3 is 3>> "It must have been hard for you to experience," you murmur. Queen Elora looks at her hands, frowing slightly. You watch as her forehead creases and her lips pull into a frown. Perhaps the memory of her father's death weighs more heavily than she would ever admit. "It was hard," she breathes. "It was one of the hardest things that I had to endure. I knew nothing about ruling a kingdom and my mother did not help much in the months that followed my father's passing." "I am sorry," you reply. She lets out a shaky breath, before turning to you with a smile. "It is alright, $name. In a way, my father's death pushed me into becoming a ruler that Vinia needed." <</if>> <<if $chp3_42b_5 is 2>>[[Next.|chp4_18b_5a]]<<elseif $chp3_42b_5 is 5>>[[Next.|chp4_18b_5a]]<<elseif $chp3_42b_5 is 3>>[[Next.|chp4_18b_5a]]<<else>>[[Next.|chp4_18b_5]]<</if>>

As you gaze at Queen Elora, your thoughts begin to drift away from the conversation of her father and towards the memories of the moment you shared in the hidden garden.<<if $shy_elora gt $bold_elora>> Your face heats up at the memory and you swallow, your mouth suddenly dry.<<elseif $bold_elora gt $shy_elora>> Your lips pull into a smile at the memory, your heartbeat racing as you remember her fond gaze.<</if>> Queen Elora turns, facing you as her eyes take in your expression. She must realise where your thoughts lie because she is suddenly gripping your hand in her warm hold. "$name," she murmurs. "After everything that has happened, I had not gotten the chance to tell you how much I enjoyed our time together." <<set $chp4_18b_5a to 0>> [["I enjoyed it too," you mumble, suddenly flushed with warmth.|chp4_18b_5a1][$chp4_18b_5a +=1, $eloraRel +=5, $eloraRom +=5, $shy_elora +=5]] [["And how much did you enjoy it?" you ask, a teasing smirk playing at your lips.|chp4_18b_5a1][$chp4_18b_5a +=2, $eloraRel +=5, $eloraRom +=5, $bold_elora +=5]] [[You nod in response, breathless and afraid to speak for fear that your voice will shake in nervousness.|chp4_18b_5a1][$chp4_18b_5a +=3, $eloraRom +=5, $eloraRel +=5, $shy_elora +=5]] [["I am sorry," you respond. "But after everything that happened, I do not think it is wise for us to pursue whatever it is we are feeling."|chp4_18b_5a1][$eloraRom -=20, $chp4_18b_5a +=4]]

<<if $guards_gone is true>>Queen Elora finally draws away from you, putting space between you as she smooths out her hair.<<elseif $guards_gone is false>>Queen Elora flashes you a smile, warm and brief, though her eyes find yours in a soft expression.<</if>> She glances away, taking in the rest of the room and when she speaks, her voice is low, as if afraid to disturb the quietness. "I know that you will do what is best," she says. "Perhaps, if everything works out, I will be able to join you and Iri on your journey." You raise your eyebrows. "Will you not be needed here?" Queen Elora grins, lifting her shoulder in a shrug. "My mother has been wanting to take charge for some time. Perhaps I should give her an opportunity while I finally do what I want to." "You want to rush into danger?" you question, frowning. She laughs. "I want to help you and Iri. Besides, I believe the time for Vinia's neutrality has come to an end." She pauses. "Peace cannot last without a war every now and then. It's what my grandmother told me and I realise now that she was right." You nod in thought, contemplating her words. Perhaps the war has been going on for too long in Ishari. Whatever happens, you know that you will need the aid of the Ishari people if Prince Irus is to ever reclaim the throne. Your attention is drawn towards Queen Elora when a yawn escapes her. She flushes under your stare. "I am tireder than I thought," she admits. "You must rest too, $name. The journey will be a long one." It is too polite to be an outright dismissal, but you know that lingering any longer with Queen Elora might find you talking to a sleeping woman sooner than later. With a smile, you bid her a goodnight and take your leave. [[Next.|chp4_18_landing]]

<<if $chp4_18b_5a is 1>> "I enjoyed it too," you mumble, suddenly flushed with warmth. Queen Elora's lips widen into a teasing grin when she notices your flustered expression. She leans closer, her breath brushing against your face and the warmth of her skin seeping into your bones. You try to speak, but your words get tangled on your tongue and you can only stare at her face, too absorbed in her beauty to look away. "Is that so?" she questions, running her fingers along your arm. "I am grateful then that you enjoyed our moment together as much as I did." You stare at her fingers as they dance along your arm. Heat blossoms from her touch, spreading along your skin as if you have been placed in a vat of oil and left to simmer. You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry and your breathing too fast. "$name," she murmurs. "I must admit that I will miss you greatly when you leave." "You will?" you ask, breathless. "Yes," she responds. "Very much so." [[Next.|chp4_18b_5a2]] <<elseif $chp4_18b_5a is 2>> "And how much did you enjoy it?" you ask, a teasing smirk playing at your lips. She raises an eyebrow at your tone, amusement flickering through her gaze. Drawing closer, her fingers reach out, brushing against the side of your face, lingering against your chin. Her eyes scan your face, shifting from your eyes, before lowering to your mouth. You are so close that her breath brushes against your skin, warming you. "I enjoyed it very much," she breathes. Her fingers continue stroking the side of your face. "Perhaps I could show you how much I enjoyed it?" Your smirk widens and you lean in, but a slight cough draws your attention to the guards stationed at the doorway. The realisation that you are not alone with Queen Elora as you had been before comes all too soon and you let out a breath. Queen Elora chuckles. "Perhaps another time then?" You grin. "Perhaps." [[Next.|chp4_18b_5a2]] <<elseif $chp4_18b_5a is 3>> You nod in response, breathless and afraid to speak for fear that your voice will shake in nervousness. Queen Elora must see the hesitation in your expression, because her gaze softens and she reaches out, her fingers slipping over yours in a gentle caress. You shiver at the warmth of her skin, which startles you, eliciting a short breath from your lips. "$name," Queen Elora murmurs. Her voice is steady, gentle. "You are trembling." You look down at where your hand lies under her palm. She is right. You are trembling and flushed all over. Your heartbeat races under your chest, thundering and loud and you fear that Queen Elora will be able to hear it. When you dare to meet her eyes, you find that hers are filled with affection, a warmth that spreads to her radiant smile. "I am sorry," you mumble. She laughs softly. "You need not apologise, $name. It is sweet to see you flustered like this." [[Next.|chp4_18b_5a2]] <<elseif $chp4_18b_5a is 4>> "I am sorry," you respond. "But after everything that happened, I do not think it is wise for us to pursue whatever it is we are feeling." Queen Elora's eyebrows furrow, disappointment in her eyes but after a moment, she nods. "It is alright, $name. I did not mean to pressure you into something you were not ready for." You shake your head. "You did not pressure me into anything. But after the Blood Guard and Virion's arrival, I think I need to focus on what is to come." Queen Elora smiles in understanding and you are grateful for it. She reaches out, patting your wrist gently before withdrawing her hand. You turn, meeting her eyes and find that there is no anger in her expression, the disappointment that had been there, now a brief memory. "Things have become complicated in the span of a few hours," she agrees. "I will not fault you for wanting to focus on your task at hand." "Thank you," you breathe. [[Next.|chp4_18b_5]] <</if>>

The longer you stare at Queen Elora, the harder it becomes to look away. You feel the warmth of her affection spread through you, tingling as it urges your heartbeat faster. She smiles, soft and gentle before her eyes shift towards the guards stationed at the door. <<set $guards_gone to true>> "Leave us for a moment," she says. "Your Majesty-" one of the guards begin to speak. "That was an order," she states, a hardness to her voice. The guards filter out of the room, closing the door behind them with a resounding thud. You stare at the door, before Queen Elora draws your attention towards her. She reaches for your face, her hands soft against your chin.<<if $chp3_elorakiss is true>> You remember the kiss you shared, a surge of heat spreading through you.<</if>> "I would like to kiss you, a token of good luck if you will," Queen Elora murmurs. <<set $chp4_18b_5a2 to 0>> [[You nod in response, desperate to feel her mouth on yours.|chp4_18b_5a3][$chp4_18b_5a2 +=1]] [["Please do," you breathe, giddy with anticipation.|chp4_18b_5a3][$chp4_18b_5a2 +=2]] [["I would like to kiss you too," you respond, your mouth pressing against hers.|chp4_18b_5a3][$chp4_18b_5a2 +=3]] [["If it is alright, I would rather just sit together like this," you reply.|chp4_18b_5a3][$chp4_18b_5a2 +=4]]

<<if $chp4_18b_5a2 is 1>> You nod in response, desperate to feel her mouth on yours. Queen Elora's eyes soften as she gazes at you. For a moment, she does not kiss you. Instead, her eyes trace over your features, as if taking her time to examine your yearning for her. She smiles, leaning closer as her fingers draw your mouth to hers. The kiss is warm, a gentle brush of lips and then she draws back. Her breath fans against your face, a heated caress that elicits a sharp gasp from you.<<if $chp3_elorakiss is true>> This is more than the kiss you shared with her earlier, the air charged with an eagerness that neither of you can deny.<<elseif $chp3_elorakiss is false>> You swallow, suddenly aflame with your first time kissing Queen Elora, desperate and needy for her touch.<</if>> "You taste so sweet," she breathes, drawing you closer. Your eyes close against her kiss, this time deeper than before. You lean into the contact, a thrill of desire swirling in your stomach as her tongue swipes at your lower lip. Another breath leaves you, your mouth parting as her tongue slips against yours. She is desire and wanton thoughts, enough to draw a whimper from your lungs. When she pulls away, her eyes are darker, hazy as if at any moment, she will lunge forward and capture your lips between her teeth. Her breathing comes out sharp and when she speaks, it is barely above a whisper. "Please, keep safe," she murmurs. "I will be thinking of you until we see each other again." <<elseif $chp4_18b_5a2 is 2>> "Please do," you breathe, giddy with anticipation. Her lips quirk into a grin, your enthusiasm not unnoticed. She draws you closer to her, but you meet her halfway, desperate to feel her mouth and taste her tongue. Her fingers grip your face tighter, her nose brushing yours before she captures your mouth in hers. The kiss is warm, a soft thing that urges you forward as your arms wind around her waist. A pleased sound escapes Queen Elora's mouth and when she kisses you again, it is with the ferocity of a thunderstorm. She is all tongue and teeth, tasting your lips and sucking your lips. You cannot think beyond the heat that pools in your gut, the hunger and desire that threatens to overwhelm you eliciting a low moan from the back of your throat. Queen Elora draws back, her mouth wet and her eyes hazy with hunger. "I will miss your kisses most," she breathes. And then, she is kissing you again. It is deeper, as if searching for an answer you are uncertain you possess. Your fingers tighten around her waist, while the other hand travels along her spine to grip the loose curls at her neck. She shivers against you, nearly drowning you in pleasure as her tongue slides against yours. <<if $chp3_elorakiss is true>> This is more than the kiss you shared with her earlier, the air charged with an eagerness that neither of you can deny.<<elseif $chp3_elorakiss is false>> You swallow, suddenly aflame with your first time kissing Queen Elora, desperate and needy for her touch.<</if>> When you finally part for air, you find that she is as affected as you are - breathless and wide-eyed as if fighting the urge to lose herself in your mouth again. Queen Elora cups your face. "Do not do anything too reckless when you leave. I will be thinking of you constantly." <<elseif $chp4_18b_5a2 is 3>> "I would like to kiss you too," you respond, your mouth pressing against hers. A surprised sound escapes her lips but it is soon swallowed by your lips. Queen Elora tightens her grip around your jaw, her touch warm and drawing you closer as her lips part beneath your own. You lean closer, tasting the sweetness of her tongue and drinking her moan as your fingers grip her waist. <<if $chp3_elorakiss is true>> This is more than the kiss you shared with her earlier, the air charged with an eagerness that neither of you can deny.<<elseif $chp3_elorakiss is false>> You swallow, suddenly aflame with your first time kissing Queen Elora, desperate and needy for her touch.<</if>> You waste no time in deepening the kiss, desperate to take as much as she is willing to give. Her touch sears you, like the lick of flames. You can no longer think beyond where your tongues meet and teeth clash. She draws away and you nearly follow her into oblivion, but your eyes flutter open and you find her panting and her mouth wet. "I will think of nothing but this moment until we reunite," she murmurs. And then, she is kissing you again. Her tongue slides against yours, dancing for control, yet, never fully taking it from you. Your hands slide along her waist, moving until they rest on her shoulders, her curls tangling in your fingers. It is you who pulls away this time, breathless and hot all over. "I will pray for your safety when you are gone, $name," she murmurs. <<elseif $chp4_18b_5a2 is 4>> "If it is alright, I would rather just sit together like this," you reply. Queen Elora smiles, her gaze softening as she shifts closer to you so that the heat of her skin seeps into you from her proximity. She glances at you, a fond expression on her face, warm and full of affection that leaves you breathless. <<if $chp3_elorakiss is true>> You kissed her earlier, but for now, you are content to sit with her like this.<<elseif $chp3_elorakiss is false>> You did not kiss her earlier, though you are grateful for her closeness and warmth as you had been then.<</if>> "Of course it is alright, $name," she murmurs. She leans her elbow on the back of the sofa, resting her chin on it. "I enjoy being with you, no matter what we do." Her words elict a surge of heat from you, warmth pushing through your veins and bursting at your fingertips. You can only stare at her, taking in the fondness of her gaze and the languid smile on her lips to know that she speaks the truth. "I enjoy spending time with you too," you breathe. Queen Elora's smile widens and she shifts even closer, so that your sides press together. She reaches out, winding her fingers against yours so that your hands lie interlocked together. You turn, taking in her expression as she moves to lean her head against your shoulder. The softness of her hair tickles your chin, but you find that you do not mind it. "It is remarkable how calm I feel when I am around you," she confesses. "I will mourn your absence when you leave." You squeeze her fingers in yours, tightening your hold on her hand. "You are as calming to me as I am to you." She turns, her grin teasing as she gazes at you. "I did not take you for a poet, $name." Her smile softens. "I truly will miss you." <</if>> [[Next.|chp4_18b_5]]

When you reach Sir Oren's office, the door is slightly ajar. You peer in and find him surrounded by guards dressed in armour like Nerena's. "...you'll need to make sure the harbour is guarded." You catch the end of Sir Oren's words before he looks up, his hazel eyes noticing you for the first time. He seems startled by your presence, his eyes widening. The other guards turn to look at you, though they do not seem nearly as surprised or happy to see you. Sir Oren clears his throat, returning his attention to the guards around him. "You are dismissed," he instructs, his tone leaving no room for argument. The guards nod, shuffling past you as they slip out of the room. When they are out of earshot, Sir Oren turns to you wearing a small smile. Despite his expression, you notice the hint of worry in his gaze and the way his cape lies askew. "$name," he says. "Is something the matter?" <<set $chp4_18c_1 to 0>> [["Nothing is wrong," you answer. "I only wanted to come and check on you, before I leave in the morning."|chp4_18c_2][$chp4_18c_1 +=1, $orenRel +=5]] [[♡"I... no, it's nothing," you mumble, flushing under his gaze.|chp4_18c_2][$chp4_18c_1 +=2, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5, $shy_oren +=5]] [[♡"I was beginning to miss you so I thought I'd come and see how you were doing," you respond, smirking at him.|chp4_18c_2][$chp4_18c_1 +=3, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5, $bold_oren +=5]] [["No," you reply, shrugging. "But I must admit, it is worrying to see you this stressed."|chp4_18c_2][$chp4_18c_1 +=4, $orenRel +=5]]

<<if $chp4_18c_1 is 1>> "Nothing is wrong," you answer. "I only wanted to come and check on you, before I leave in the morning." A smile pulls at Sir Oren's lips and he gestures for you to take a seat in the wooden chair across from him. You step inside his office, noting the papers lying about his desk and the ink stains on his fingers. Sir Oren must have caught your stare because he offers you a sheepish smile. "I would prefer to be out with the rest of the guards," he explains. "But I still need to sign off on orders for those in the other cities." You raise an eyebrow at Sir Oren. "You think that the Blood Guard will attack the other cities?" Sir Oren sighs, "I do not know. But none of us were ready for his appearance." "Are you doing alright?" you ask, suddenly noticing the stress in his face. He smiles at you, a soft thing that seems to ease the tension in his shoulders. "It is kind of you to ask, $name. I am fine and the guards will be fine too. We have been training for something like this for a while now." <<elseif $chp4_18c_1 is 2>> "I... no, it's nothing," you mumble, flushing under his gaze. Sir Oren blinks, perhaps noticing the way your cheeks heat and the way you avert your gaze from his. He does not comment your flustered appearance, though he does offer you a soft smile that tugs at your chest and warms your skin. He gestures for you to take a seat on a wooden chair across from him and you hurry to do so, trying to distract yourself from the way that you are feeling. "Are you ready for tomorrow?" Sir Oren asks. You think about the journey you will have to take, returning to Ishari and leaving behind Vinia and those you have met. As you glance at Sir Oren, you find a warmth in his gaze that seems to leap into the space between you. It reaches your skin and seeps into your bones, anchoring you to this moment as you flush under his gaze. "I am," you answer, though you are uncertain if you are. "I know that you will be safe in Redall's care," Sir Oren assures you. "He will make certain that His Highness and you reach Ishari as fast as possible." "What about you?" you ask. "Will you be safe?" Your words come out, unbidden and a second later, you feel the familiar prickle of embarrassment creep up your neck. Ducking down, you stare at your palms, hoping that Sir Oren does not realise just how affected you are near him. "I will be as safe as I can be, $name," Sir Oren replies. His voice is soft and draws your attention to him. "But I am grateful for your concern." <<elseif $chp4_18c_1 is 3>> "I was beginning to miss you so I thought I'd come and see how you were doing," you respond, smirking at him. Your words come out teasing and your smirk widens when you notice the familiar creep of heat across Sir Oren's face. It is adorable watching him flustered, looking around as he pretends to busy himself with the sheafs of pages on his desk. You step further into his office, plopping on the wooden chair across from him as your eyes lift to meet his. "Ah, right," he mumbles. "Well... that is..." "Why don't you sit awhile?" you ask. "I am certain you could use a break." Sir Oren's eyes widen and he sits, much like an obedient puppy. You stifle your laughter, realising just how much you are enjoying teasing him. It is odd to find a man in charge of trained guards become so flustered from your flirtation. "Right," Sir Oren stammers. "I suppose it will be fine for a little while." "Only a little while?" you ask, pouting. "I would have hoped for your undivided attention." Sir Oren's eyebrows furrow and he looks down. "I am sorry, $name. But I cannot stay much longer. I need to send out orders and-" "I was only jesting," you chuckle. "I know that you are busy, Sir Oren. Tell me, how are you managing?" "Well, we have made certain the harbour is safe and I am sending orders to the other cities about-" "I meant you, personally," you interrupt. You lean forward, peering at the stressed look on his face. "Are you alright, Captain?" He swallows, but this time, his eyes do not leave yours. "I am doing well. Thank you for asking, $name." <<elseif $chp4_18c_1 is 4>> "No," you reply, shrugging. "But I must admit, it is worrying to see you this stressed." Sir Oren's gaze softens at your words and he gestures for you to take a seat in a wooden chair across from him. You step into the office, casting a glance at his desk. Papers lie scattered about and maps of the different cities of Vinia have been marked with ink splotches. Sir Oren notices your glance and lets out a breath. "It has been tiring," he admits. "But I would rather be tired than caught unaware again. I have been sending word out to the other cities and the guards there to prepare for a possible attack." "You think that the Blood Guard will attack the other cities?" you ask. Sir Oren runs a hand through his dark hair. The strands stick up as he he does so, but Sir Oren is too focussed on the maps to notice. You gaze at him, suddenly realising just how tense he is. His shoulders are wound stiffly and every so often, you notice the way his jaw clenches. "It is hard to say," Sir Oren answers. "But with you and His Highness leaving tomorrow, I do not think the Blood Guard will give up so easily. Aspal has been gated from the Blood Guard. But there is nothing to stop them from marching to a neighbouring city to lay warfare there." "I did not think of that," you murmur, suddenly wondering if a war is inevitable. Sir Oren glances at you, smiling softly. "It will be alright, $name. The Vinian Royal Guard have been preparing for something like this for years. We will be fine. You just have to focus on helping His Highness in Ishari." <</if>> [[Next.|chp4_18c_3]]

You lapse into silence, your eyes tracing the maps on Sir Oren's desk. A map of Aspal catches your attention and you find the Ishari District circled in ink. Sir Oren glances down, his finger tapping the spot. "We have made certain to station extra guards around the Ishari District," Sir Oren explains. "Everyone knows the reputation of the Blood Guard." He pauses, glancing at you. "I will make sure that your family is protected, $name." A well of relief surges through you and you let out a breath you had not realised you were holding. Your family will at least be guarded by those under Sir Oren's order and if the plan does work, perhaps Virion will begin his search for Prince Irus once you leave. "The plan tomorrow," you say. "Do you think it will work?" Sir Oren sighs. "I am not certain, $name. The Blood Guard follows the orders of Virion and if he is as determined to go after His Highness, he will find a way. Your destination is not known to anyone but a few, so hopefully, it will give you time to escape before Virion becomes aware that you and His Highness are gone." <<set $chp4_18c_3 to 0>> [["I am worried about tomorrow," you admit, feeling anxious about the journey ahead.|chp4_18c_4][$chp4_18c_3 +=1]] [["I know your siblings were at the banquet," you say. "Are they safe now?"|chp4_18c_4][$chp4_18c_3 +=2]] [["Do you think that Prince Irus will succeed in Ishari?" you question.|chp4_18c_4][$chp4_18c_3 +=3]]

<<if $chp4_18c_3 is 1>> "I am worried about tomorrow," you admit, feeling anxious about the journey ahead. Sir Oren's gaze finds yours over his desk. His hazel eyes scan your face, before they move away to the maps before him. "It is normal to be worried," he responds. "The task ahead of you is not an easy one." Sir Oren's words are soft, his voice resonating through the small office. You let out a weary breath, suddenly struck by impending task that you have taken up. There is much resting on the success of Prince Irus' journey to Ishari and the thought of failing is nearly overwhelming. Sir Oren's gaze meet yours and he smiles. "You have been through much already," he says. "I have no doubt that you will succeed, $name. With your help, His Highness is certain to reclaim the throne." <<elseif $chp4_18c_3 is 2>> "I know your siblings were at the banquet," you say. "Are they safe now?" Sir Oren's eyebrows raise in surprise, before a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "I had them escorted home to my fathers. Thank you for asking." You smile in response. "You seem close to your family." A small laugh, barely a breath, escapes Sir Oren and he leans back, the easy expression you are used to seeing on his face, now returning at the mention of his family. "I am," he admits. "We are not that big of a family alone, just my Adda and Baba and my two siblings. But our farm is big and our extended family are our neighbours." You remember growing up alone, with just your father. Perhaps it would have been enough if Ahlf was not so restrained in his feelings. But now, after meeting your mother's family - and now, your family, you have come to realise the joy that comes from being around those who will care for you no matter what. "That is good to hear," you respond, smiling. <<elseif $chp4_18c_3 is 3>> "Do you think that Prince Irus will succeed in Ishari?" you question. Sir Oren's gaze meets yours over his desk. A thoughtful look fills his expression and you wonder if he has an opinion on the matter or if he will simply follow Queen Elora's orders as her Captain. A moment passes and you begin to think that Sir Oren might never answer you, but he does, his voice hesitant as if he is still thinking how to phrase his words. "His Highness is by far a better person than his uncle," Sir Oren explains. "He has proven not to hold the same hatred as his father did and while he is inexperienced, he can accomplish much with good advisors and friends at his side." You raise an eyebrow at Sir Oren. "That is not much of an answer, Sir Oren." He chuckles. "I suppose it is not. Very well, I shall speak plainly." He clears his throat. "I think Prince Irus will succeed. There are people who have wanted to be rid of the Blood Guard for years. Every nation is different, but most do not condone the war started by King Erlan against Ishari." Sir Oren's words are spoken with conviction and you find that it is hard to doubt them when he looks at you so sincerely. Perhaps he is right. Prince Irus can succeed and you will be right there to make certain it happens. <</if>> <<if $chp3_42c_5 is 2>>[[Next.|chp4_18c_5a]]<<elseif $chp3_42c_5 is 3>>[[Next.|chp4_18c_5a]]<<elseif $chp3_42c_5 is 5>>[[Next.|chp4_18c_5a]]<<else>>[[Next.|chp4_18c_5]]<</if>>

As you sit across from Sir Oren, your thoughts return to the memory of his hold on you. A flush of warmth spreads through your body, warming you from your chest as it spreads outwards to your fingers. You gaze at Sir Oren and find that he is already looking at you. His hazel eyes trace over your features and send a thrill of excitement through you. "$name," he murmurs. "Before, at the banquet. I..." he stops, trailing off as if struggling to find the right words. "What I mean to say is that I enjoyed our time together, even if it was cut short." His words are stilted, unsure as if afraid that you will take his words and throw them back in his face. You gaze at Sir Oren, noting the way he does not meet your eyes fully. <<set $chp4_18c_5a to 0>> [["I enjoyed it too," you murmur, eyes locking with his.|chp4_18c_5a1][$chp4_18c_5a +=1, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5]] [[You avert your gaze as heat spreads across your cheeks. "I enjoyed it too."|chp4_18c_5a1][$chp4_18c_5a +=2, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5]] [["Well we're all alone again," you purr. "There is enough time to continue what we started."|chp4_18c_5a1][$chp4_18c_5a +=3, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5]] [["After everything that has happened, perhaps it would be best if we took a step away from what we are feeling," you respond.|chp4_18c_5a1][$chp4_18c_5a +=4, $orenRom -=20]]

"I am afraid that I cannot spend much longer with you, $name," Sir Oren murmurs. He glances at the barracks outside. "I must don my armour like the rest of the guards and take up my duties." You nod, swallowing. "I understand." It is late, though you realise that you will not see Sir Oren for a while after this. You glance at him, smiling slightly. "Stay safe," you murmur. Sir Oren smiles kindly. "I will, $name. Thank you." You cast him a final look, before you slip away from his office. It is even more chaotic when you step out, most of the guards already poised in groups, ready to take up their stations. With a sigh, you turn away from the barracks. [[Next.|chp4_18_landing]]

<<if $chp4_18c_5a is 1>> "I enjoyed it too," you murmur, eyes locking with his. Your breath hitches as your gazes meet. Sir Oren's face is flushed red, a warmth to his skin that causes your heartbeat to quicken. You cannot look away and you realise that you do not want to look away. His eyes slip away a moment too soon and you let out a breath. "I am glad," he mumbles. His voice is low, a deep sound that sends shivers down your spine. "It has been a while since I felt like this." "Like what?" you ask, unable to keep the words in. Sir Oren's eyes dart to yours once more, affection visible in his gaze. Smiling, he leans over his desk, his fingers seeking yours out and when your hands meet, you feel a jolt shoot through you as though you have been doused in flames. "It feels as if I can finally focus on more than my duties," Sir Oren responds. "You are not what I expected, $name, but I am grateful that I have had a chance to spend time with you." [[Next.|chp4_18c_5a2]] <<elseif $chp4_18c_5a is 2>> You avert your gaze as heat spreads across your cheeks. "I enjoyed it too." There is a strange tension in the room, it swirls and tugs, settling in the pit of your stomach. You can barely breathe, your chest squeezing as your face warms. You look at the desk and then, at the papers, anywhere but at Sir Oren. How can you when you are certain that he will see your exposed emotions, so vulnerable and open that you are afraid of his reaction. "$name," he calls. You finally look up, your eyes locking with his. For a moment, neither of you speak. Instead, you take in the flush in his face and the way his lips curve into a soft smile. There is warmth in his eyes, a look of such affection that it threatens to swallow you whole. You cannot look away from Sir Oren and why would you? "It is alright to feel nervous," he murmurs. His hands reach out, gripping yours over the desk. "I am nervous too." "You are?" you ask, unable to hide your surprise. He smiles, softer, running his fingers over the back of your knuckles. "Yes. Whenever I am with you, it is hard to focus on anything other than your presence. Yet, I cannot seem to stay away." [[Next.|chp4_18c_5a2]] <<elseif $chp4_18c_5a is 3>> "Well we're all alone again," you purr. "There is enough time to continue what we started." Your words are teasing and you offer Sir Oren a casual grin with them. He flushes as you expected, his cheeks warming and his eyes darting away. But you do not expect him to lean closer, his hands settling on the desk, close enough that you could reach out and place your palms over his. Your eyes linger on his hands before you look towards him. Sir Oren meets your gaze, unwavering as he watches you. Smiling, you draw closer to the desk. Your fingers stretch out along Sir Oren's hands and you let them trail against his palm and knuckles. His skin is rough, though his touch is gentle when you slip your fingers along his. "If you wanted to hold my hand, all you had to do was ask, Captain," you murmur. Sir Oren trembles and you feel it through his palms, darting along your own arms, scorching you with a heat that you cannot rid yourself of. "I will keep that in mind for next time," he breathes. Your eyes widen, expecting more hesitancy from him, not bravery in the face of your flirting. Yet, his words drown you in his affection and the softeness of his tone. Your smile eases into something smaller as you glance at your joined hands. "Good," you breathe. [[Next.|chp4_18c_5a2]] <<elseif $chp4_18c_5a is 4>> "After everything that has happened, perhaps it would be best if we took a step away from what we are feeling," you respond. Your words are met with silence and you worry that perhaps you have misread the situation or offended Sir Oren in some way. But when you gaze at him, there is a warm smile on his lips. He looks away from your gaze, his attention on the maps before him. "It is alright, $name," he replies. "I understand how you feel. It is quite a chaotic time for us all, especially for you and His Highness." "You do not mind?" you ask, peering closely at his expression. Sir Oren meets your eyes then, smiling softly at you. There is no sign of anger, only sincerity. "I do not mind, $name. It would be selfish of me to be angry. Though, I would greatly enjoy it if we remained friends." You smile in response. "I would like that too." [[Next.|chp4_18c_5]] <</if>>

As you sit together, your hands clasped in the middle of Sir Oren's desk, you find your eyes shifting to his face. He catches your gaze, smiling at you softly. Slowly, his hazel eyes drift lower, to your nose and then finally, reaching your lips. <<if $chp3_orenkiss is true>>Your lips tingle suddenly, the memory of his kiss, filling your thoughts.<</if>> "$name," he breathes. "We will not see each other for a while. I would... if you would like to of course... what I mean to say is that..." The way he flusters and tries his best not to stare at your mouth, you realise that he is asking permission to kiss you. <<set $chp4_18c_5a2 to 0>> [[You lean over the table, kissing him softly.|chp4_18c_5a3][$chp4_18c_5a2 +=1]] [["It is alright," you breathe, warming at the thought of kissing him.|chp4_18c_5a3][$chp4_18c_5a2 +=2]] [["You need not ask my permission, Captain," you tease as you lean closer.|chp4_18c_5a3][$chp4_18c_5a2 +=3]] [["I would prefer if we simply sit like this," you respond softly.|chp4_18c_5a3][$chp4_18c_5a2 +=4]]

<<if $chp4_18c_5a2 is 1>> You lean over the table, kissing him softly. A surprised sound escapes Sir Oren, but it is quickly swallowed by the press of your lips. The kiss is soft, his mouth warm against yours. You shiver, feeling heat spread through you, as if you have been cast into flames but instead of pain, you can only feel pleasure. Sir Oren draws away first, his eyes wide and his pupils large. He stands suddenly, his chair scraping against the floor. You blink, startled. Is he going to ask you to leave? He strides around the table, before kneeling before you. You begin to question Sir Oren, but his mouth is on yours again and all thoughts of him dirtying his trousers slip away. The kiss becomes deeper, hungrier as Sir Oren's fingers slide over your shoulders and settle on either side of your face. His touch is searing, his tongue a languid thing that strokes along your own tongue, eliciting a sharp gasp from you. Heat pools in the middle of your stomach and you grip him even closer, your fingers tangling in his hair. You draw away first, breathless. Your heartbeat is thunderous, threatening to leap put of your chest and into Sir Oren's. "$name," Sir Oren breathes. "I... I will think of you always, when you leave." He kisses your forehead then, his mouth slightly wet but the kiss is no less gentle. You can only nod, suddenly realising that you will not see Sir Oren for some time. <<elseif $chp4_18c_5a2 is 2>> "It is alright," you breathe, warming at the thought of kissing him. Your words seem to urge Sir Oren, because he suddenly stands up, striding to where you sit. You blink, startled by the determination in his gaze and the ease at which he reaches out and draws you to your feet. There is no hesitation now, not when he is cupping your face in his large palm and dragging your mouth to his. The kiss is a ferocious thing, all lips and tongue and desire. You find yourself leaning into Sir Oren, your fingers tangling in his tunic while he grips you tighter, one hand on the side of your face while the other tightens around your hip. His touch sends a shudder through you and you lean closer, suddenly wanting to kiss him forever. He draws away, only for a moment. Your eyes open and you realise that you cannot remember when you closed them. Sir Oren's breathing is fast, a ragged sound that warms your face. "$name," he breathes, your name like a song. "I do not think that I will be able to survive your absence." Something in his tone, the vulnerability and affection that fills you with heat, draws you foward. Your hand slips over his cheek, drawing his lips back to yours. You can feel the outline of his lips just barely against yours and when you speak, you feel Sir Oren shudder against you. "I will return to you," you breathe. "I assure you of this." And then, he is kissing you again. Any doubt that lingered in the back of Sir Oren's mind is gone, replaced by a yearning so strong that it leaves you breathless with desire. He kisses you and you kiss him in return, your tongues gliding against one another and the heat in your stomach tightening into a fiery ball. Eventually, Sir Oren pulls away. He is as breathless as you are. "I will cherish this moment until we see each other again." <<elseif $chp4_18c_5a2 is 3>> "You need not ask my permission, Captain," you tease as you lean closer. Sir Oren's face reddens at your words, but then, he is leaning to meet your lips halfway over the table. His fingers relinquish its hold on yours and he drags his hands along your face, gripping you as his mouth meets yours. You let out a breath, the touch of his lips warm and soft. It is nearly not enough and yet, you could not think of being anywhere but here. The kiss is gentle, a peck at first and then, a slight swipe of his tongue. You shudder, wanting more and yet, wishing to savour this moment. Sir Oren leans closer, his kiss growing urgent as his pecks become longer and his tongue no longer is happy with only light touches. Your lips part under his and suddenly, it is more than a chaste meeting of lips. Your fingers grab at his shoulders, suddenly cursing the table between you. Sir Oren must think the same thing because in a heartbeat, he pulls away before striding around the table to take you in his arms. There is no hesitation, no inkling of nerves now when he kisses you as if he is a man starved and you are the only thing left to eat. His tongue strokes yours, drawing you into a battle you are uncertain you wish to win. It draws a soft sound from your throat and you lean closer, your arms wrapping around the broad expanse of his back. Sir Oren kisses you until your blood rushes past your ears and your lungs threaten to burst. Your head feels dizzy, heat and desire pooling in the pit of your stomach. "$name," Sir Oren almost moans, drawing away to swallow a breath. You gaze at him, his eyes wide with desire and his breathing ragged. It is hard not to capture his lips again, the desire to taste him nearly overwhelming. "It will be torture being without you," he murmurs. You clutch his jaw, nipping at his lower lip. The gesture draws a hiss from Sir Oren, but he only tightens his hold on you. "Think of me often, Captain," you breathe. "And I assure you that I will be with you to finish what we have started." <<elseif $chp4_18c_5a2 is 4>> "I would prefer if we simply sit like this," you respond softly. Sir Oren's expression softens and he smiles at you, his fingers tightening around you own. You let out a breath, your palms tingling with the surge of heat from his touch. Glancing at your joined hands, you shiver when Sir Oren runs his thumb over the back of your hand. He notices your shudder, stroking once more. "$name," he murmurs. "I hope that you know how much I have come to care for you." His words are spoken softly, perhaps afraid of voicing them aloud. And yet, staring at him, you can only see the open affection in his expression. The sight of his smile, so kind and gentle, drawing you closer, wanting to never let go of his hands in yours. Sir Oren is like an anchor, holding you close, tethering you to this moment. "I care for you too," you breathe. He nods, visibly reddening under your gaze and his eyes drift to your clasped hands once more. There is a gentleness in the way he cradles your hands in his, nearly protective as though you are something precious. It sends another shudder through you, earning another soft glance from Sir Oren. "I will miss you greatly when you leave," he admits. "Please, do not tarry for too long, $name." You smile. "I will try not to." <</if>> Eventually, you both pull away, separating yourselves. A clatter outside draws your attention to the sound and the moment is broken. Everything that has happened comes rushing back, though you cannot deny that there now is an added meaning to the warmth of Sir Oren's gaze on you as he settles back into his chair. [[Next.|chp4_18c_5]]

<<set $location to "The Harbour, Aspal.">><div class="timeline">The Harbour, Aspal.</div> The salty air of the harbour tickles your nose at your approach. It is barely dawn and the sky is dappled with streaks of orange and gold. You swallow a breath, tasting the sea on your lips and feeling the cool breeze brushing against your skin. The harbour is quiet, nearly empty aside from the guards who keep watch. Beside you, Prince Irus walks in silence. He wears a thick tunic and trousers, his hair curling around his ears. By the dark circles under his eyes, you are certain that he has not slept much. As if sensing your stare, he turns and glances at you.<<if $irus_lock is true>> His lips curve into a smile, one that warms you from the inside before looking away.<<else>> He offers you a small smile, before glancing away.<</if>> After today, you will not see your family or your newfound allies for some time. Glancing at the harbour, the different buildings and the guards, you realise that... <<set $chp4_20 to 0>> [[...you will miss the Kingdom of Vinia and the brief respite it offered you.|chp4_21][$chp4_20 +=1]] [[...you are determined to complete this task for the good of everyone.|chp4_21][$chp4_20 +=2]] [[...you are eager to return to Ishari and to explore your heritage.|chp4_21][$chp4_20 +=3]] [[...you hope that you succeed so that you can return to your family soon.|chp4_21][$chp4_20 +=4]] [[...this is inevitable, as though nothing you could have done would changed this outcome.|chp4_21][$chp4_20 +=5]]

<<if $chp4_20 is 1>> From the beginning of your travels with Prince Irus, you have had to flee and confront challenges that awaited you. Arriving at the Kingdom of Vinia had provided you a chance to finally breathe and to recuperate from the ordeals that you had to face. As you leave Vinia behind, you know that the time for rest is over. There will only be more challenges ahead of you. <<elseif $chp4_20 is 2>> The challenge that lies before you and Prince Irus is a difficult one and you do not doubt its importance. You know that the only way to defeat Virion and the Blood Guard is to gather allies, even if it means that you must leave everything behind. You are determined to complete the task at hand, if only to keep those most vulnerable, safe. <<elseif $chp4_20 is 3>> When you left Ishari as a child, you were barely old enough to remember much beyond Mama's words. The memories of your early childhood are hazy, a forgotten past that belongs to you and yet, you do not know it. You look forward to your return to Ishari. Perhaps by returning, you might uncover the truth about your past and learn more about Mama. <<elseif $chp4_20 is 4>> This journey will take you away from the family you have rediscovered and for that, you can only hope that it does not take too long. Knowing that there are people waiting for you when this is all over is a relief that you did not know you could feel. You are no longer alone anymore and for that, you are eager to complete the task ahead of you. <<elseif $chp4_20 is 5>> It a strange sense of foreboding that fills you at the thought that no matter what happened, fate has somehow brought you to this point. You cannot change the outcome and even if you had, would you have truly succeeded on your own? Worrying over it now is futile, because you know that your task is one that you cannot escape. <</if>> Whatever your thoughts are, they elude you the moment you reach the ship that is meant to carry you to Ishari. Calling it a ship is an exaggeration. The vessel is made of dark wood and the sails are smaller than the ships docked in the harbour. You gaze up at it, noticing a few sailors hauling crates onto the ship and you wonder if it supplies for your journey or weapons to keep you safe. As you approach, you glance at the gangplank that links the small barge to the harbour. Lord Redall is already waiting at the end of the gangplank, wearing a dark coat and hard boots. He lifts his hand in an ineffectual wave as you and Prince Irus approach. "You're both here. Good," he says as a way of greeting. "So far, the Blood Guard have not moved from beyond the city walls which means we'll be able to leave mostly undetected." "Mostly undetected?" Prince Irus asks. Lord Redall shrugs. "The barge is small enough to pass for a trader from the Southern Islands, but your uncle will eventually realise that you are no longer in Aspal. When that happens, I am certain he will come after you." He glances at the barge once more. "Your belongings have already been brought." He glances at Prince Irus. "We have also made arrangements for your steed, Your Highness. We should leave, before the rest of the city wakes." [[Next.|chp4_22]]

You follow Lord Redall and Prince Irus onto the deck of the barge, the floor moving ever so slightly beneath your feet. Swaying slightly, you glance towards the harbour once more. The gangplank is slowly raised, set aside by the sailors who work quickly as the anchor is lifted from the depths of the murky sea. The vessel slowly slips into the sea, the water turning darker, the farther from the harbour it moves. You stare at the harbour, watching as it slowly grows smaller with each second the currents carry you away. There is a loud creak and you glance up as the sails are unfurled, the white material spreading open as the barge picks up speed. Soon, you can barely make out the harbour. It is small and blurry, growing smaller until it is nothing more than a dark dot on the horizon. It comes so suddenly, the realisation that you are finally returning to Ishari. [[Next.|chp4_23]]

<<set $location to "Somewhere at sea.">><div class="timeline">Somewhere at sea.</div> The swaying of the barge is oddly reminiscent of your childhood spent with Ahlf on his small, fishing boat. There is an efficient way in which the sailors work, undoubtedly seasoned sailors. They wear rough tunics and heavy boots, resembling the traders you remember seeing in Salt Bay as a child. As if sensing your examination of his sailors, Lord Redall approaches you with a small smile. "If we are stopped by anyone at sea, we will argue that we are merely traders," Lord Redall explains. "It is safer for His Highness if no one knows that he is on board." "The ship is small," you reply. "What if we come across trouble?" Lord Redall gestures to the sea. While the waters remain open, you notice distant islands beyond. "We are hoping to avoid trouble during our voyage," Lord Redall replies. "The barge is suited for quick turns and navigation. A warship would be unable to use the same narrow inlets that we would, making for an easy escape." You nod in response, contemplating Lord Redall's words. As your gaze moves around the main deck, you take note of the sailors and Prince Irus, who stands at the edge of the deck, his eyes on the sea. The journey will be a long one, giving you a chance to do as you wish for now. <<set $chp4_23_task to 0>><<set $chp4_23_irus to false>><<set $chp4_23_redall to false>><<set $chp4_23_ship to false>> [[You stay and talk to Lord Redall for a while.|chp4_24a][$chp4_23_redall to true, $chp4_23_task +=1]] [[You decide to speak to Prince Irus.|chp4_24b][$chp4_23_irus to true, $chp4_23_task +=1]] [[You choose to explore the barge.|chp4_24c][$chp4_23_ship to true, $chp4_23_task +=1]]

You cast your attention onto Lord Redall and he seems slightly amused by your glance.<<if $banquet_oren is true>> You met him briefly at the banquet and barely spoke during the council meeting.<<else>> You saw him only at the council meeting before, so you hardly know what to expect.<</if>> Before you can break the silence, Lord Redall speaks. His voice cuts through the sharp wind and the sounds of the flapping sails. "How are you feeling about travelling to Ishari?" he asks. <<set $chp4_24a to 0>> [["It is something that I am looking forward to," you respond with a smile.|chp4_24a1][$chp4_24a +=1]] [["I am dreading returning," you answer, feeling trepidation filling you.|chp4_24a1][$chp4_24a +=2]] [["I am worried about whether I will be accepted or not," you admit.|chp4_24a1][$chp4_24a +=3]] [["It is something that must be done," you answer with a shrug.|chp4_24a1][$chp4_24a +=4]] [["I do not care for returning," you mutter. "But if it helps defeat the Blood Guard then it is what I will do."|chp4_24a1][$chp4_24a +=5]]

You approach Prince Irus slowly, still growing accustomed to the gentle sway of the currents beneath your feet. He does not turn towards you at the sound of your approach and you take this moment to examine him properly. His eyes are dark, a deeper colour than you are used to and there is sleep, heavy in his gaze. You move to stand beside him, breathing in the salty air and tasting it against your lips. <<if $chp4_23_redall is true and $irus_lock is true>> "You and Redall seem to be having fun," Prince Irus mutters. His curtness takes you by surprise and you frown, peering closely at his face. Prince Irus does his best not to meet your eyes, but it is not nearly enough to hide the jealousy in his expression. "Are you jealous?" you ask, curious and unable to hide the beginnings of your smile. "Of him?" he asks, forcing out a laugh. "Do not be ridiculous." You draw slightly closer to him and though he does not say anything more on the issue, you catch a hint of a smile on Prince Irus' lips.<</if>> Last night, you saw the apprehension in Prince Irus on facing his uncle and the Blood Guard. Today, you have set off to Ishari, a journey that will be difficult and long. You do not know how the people of Ishari will react to Prince Irus, especially when his father is responsible for the formation of the Blood Guard. If you ever want to know his thoughts on the matter, now is the time to ask Prince Irus. "What are your plans for the Blood Guard when this is all over?" you ask. Prince Irus lets out a breath. "Will this all be over?" He glances at you. "I do not know. The Blood Guard is dangerous. They should not be allowed to exist, right?" He is asking you, you realise. You think about the Blood Guard and what they embody - chaos and destruction. Yet, some would argue that a group of trained fighters would be valuable to a young and inexperienced king in keeping a throne. <<set $chp4_24b to 0>> [["You are right," you agree. "They are too dangerous to be allowed to exist."|chp4_24b1][$chp4_24b +=1, $irus_lead_style -=10]] [["They are dangerous, but they might be worth keeping around if used for the good of the kingdom and your reign," you respond.|chp4_24b1][$chp4_24b +=2, $irus_lead_style +=10]] [["Maybe you can keep them, after reforming the reason for their existence," you suggest.|chp4_24b1][$chp4_24b +=3]]

Your eyes take in the craftsmanship of the barge, its sails consisting of two large, swathes of material that flutter against the wind. Its frame is constructed out of dark wood and you cannot help but wonder how strong it really is; as a rule, the more sturdy a vessel, the stronger the force to pull at the ropes, pushing up or pulling down on the ship itself - a tidbit that comes from the recesses of your memories with Ahlf. There is no denying that being out at sea brings memories of your father to the fore. <<set $chp4_24c to 0>> [[You wish that he was here so that you could share this moment together.|chp4_24c1][$chp4_24c +=1]] [[The memory of your father leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.|chp4_24c1][$chp4_24c +=2]] [[You miss the thought of having a father, but you know that if he was here today, he would still be as gruff as he used to be.|chp4_24c1][$chp4_24c +=3]] [[Your lips twist into a scowl at the memory of him. Even in death, he still finds a way to plague your thoughts.|chp4_24c1][$chp4_24c +=4]] [[Your father died long before he was slain by Morden so you can only stand there, unbothered by the memories of him.|chp4_24c1][$chp4_24c +=5]]

<<if $chp4_24a is 1>> "It is something that I am looking forward to," you respond with a smile. You have not been to Ishari since you and Mama left all those years ago. The thought of returning leaves you excited and you cannot help but look forward to see what the region is like. Though you know that the war has not ended, perhaps it is not as bad as it had been when you fled. Lord Redall smiles at you. "That is a good attitude to have. Many fear what to expect, but I can assure you that it is not nearly as bad as it had been at the start of the war." <<elseif $chp4_24a is 2>> "I am dreading returning," you answer, feeling trepidation filling you. When you fled Ishari all those years ago with Mama, it had been against the backdrop of war and destruction. It seemed that no matter how far you went, the Blood Guard only sowed more chaos wherever they were. You do not know what to expect upon your return, but you cannot help the dread that tugs at your mind at the idea of being faced with more turmoil. "That is understandable," Lord Redall replies. "Ishari has been at war with Cyre for quite some time now. I have seen the consequences of the war but I have also seen the unity of the Ishari people. I hope you keep an open mind, $name." <<elseif $chp4_24a is 3>> "I am worried about whether I will be accepted or not," you admit. You left when you were still a child, too young to remember anything of your heritage and yet, always wondering of what could have been if you remained with Mama. Your life with Ahlf was influenced by the lack of deities and a culture that was not quite the same as Mama's. You wonder if you will be accepted by those in Ishari or if you will be scorned for sharing the blood of your Cyre-born father. "It is a hard thing to know," Lord Redall replies. "You cannot truly know until you show them who you are, $name." <<elseif $chp4_24a is 4>> "It is something that must be done," you answer with a shrug. Your words come out plain and it draws a glance from Lord Redall. Perhaps he was expecting a stronger reaction from you, but it is difficult to conjure up any emotions about your return. You were a child when you left and your memories of Ishari is tainted with death and destruction. Still, your indifference must come across as practicality because Lord Redall nods at you. "You are right, of course," he replies. "It is something that must be done." <<elseif $chp4_24a is 5>> "I do not care for returning," you mutter. "But if it helps defeat the Blood Guard then it is what I will do." Your vehemence comes out sharper than you intended it and by the way Lord Redall raises his eyebrow at you, it has not gone unnoticed. You let out a breath, glancing at the sea beyond the barge. Returning to Ishari is returning to the place you had to flee with Mama. Your memories are tainted by the destruction and pain you had to experience and returning now is something that you have to do, regardless about how you actually feel about returning. "Ishari might surprise you," Lord Redall responds. "It is not all death and war as you might think." <</if>> As you mull over Lord Redall's words, the gentle sway of the barge eases the tightness of your shoulders. You do not know what to truly expect on this journey or whether the Blood Guard will abandon their place in Vinia to pursue you. Glancing at Lord Redall, you realise that he might know more than you. <<set $redA to false>><<set $redB to false>><<set $redC to false>><<set $redD to false>><<set $redE to false>><<set $chp4_24_red to 0>> [["How long will the journey to Ishari take?" you ask.|chp4_24a1_a][$redA to true, $chp4_24_red +=1]] [["Should we expect danger while we travel?" you question.|chp4_24a1_b][$redB to true, $chp4_24_red +=1]] [["Do the sailors know why we are travelling to Ishari?" you enquire.|chp4_24a1_c][$redC to true, $chp4_24_red +=1]] [["What will happen if we enounter trouble at sea?" you query.|chp4_24a1_d][$redD to true, $chp4_24_red +=1]] [["Do we have enough supplies to last us that long?" you ask.|chp4_24a1_e][$redE to true, $chp4_24_red +=1]]

"How long will the journey to Ishari take?" you ask. Lord Redall glances at the barge and then at the flapping sails, before answering. "Around two weeks. Perhaps half that if the sea behaves and we do not encounter any trouble." You stare at the wide expanse of the sea, wondering if you will be able to endure the journey to Ishari. Being out at sea is nothing you are unsued to, but your fishing trips with Ahlf as a child lasted only a day or two, never more than that. Knowing that you will be away from land and subsequenlty, safety if something does happen does not bode well for you. [[Next.|chp4_24a1_landing]]

"Should we expect danger while we travel?" you question. A wry smile pulls at the corner of Lord Redall's lips and he flashes you a look that seems eager. You recall that Lord Redall has been helping the Ishari rebels in their efforts against the Blood Guard and wonder if he secretly hoping for trouble. "For now, we are safe," he replies. "But the Blood Guard are like hounds at the feet of their prey. They will not stop until they find His Highness." His words send a shudder of apprehension down your spine and Lord Redall offers you a placating look. "It will be alright. My sailors are not simple sea travellers. They have been trained in the art of war. They will protect us if we come across enemies." You glance at the sailors once more, noting the efficiency in which they work. Yet, you do not feel as relieved as you had hoped after learning that they are prepared for danger. [[Next.|chp4_24a1_landing]]

"Do the sailors know why we are travelling to Ishari?" you enquire. Lord Redall glances at the sailors. They speak amongst one another in hushed tones, unlike the fishermen you became accustomed to with Ahlf at sea. He turns to you, his voice low. "They know a little," he explains. "But not everything. If one of them are captured, they will be unable to give up information on His Highness or the plans we have made." You frown at the thought of the sailors being captured. There is only one way of garnering information by the Blood Guard and you know that it does not involve bribery. [[Next.|chp4_24a1_landing]]

"What will happen if we enounter trouble at sea?" you query. Lord Redall stretches his arm, gesturning to the barge. The sails beyond flap in the wind, the dull creak of the mast as it twists and turns against the sea breeze. "The barge is small enough to navigate narrow inlets," he explains. "We will employ escape tactics where possible. Perhaps we will have to delay the journey by a day or two if it means escaping danger." "And if we cannot escape?" you question. Lord Redall flashes you a grin that almost looks feral. "Then we will have to engage with the enemy forces." His words leave you uneasy and you cannot help but glance at the sea, searching for the enemies he speaks about. [[Next.|chp4_24a1_landing]]

"Do we have enough supplies to last us that long?" you ask. Lord Redall shrugs. "The quartermaster has a full inventory, if you are interested in details, but I can assure you that we have enough to last us a full month." You frown, gazing at the sailors and then at Prince Irus on the main deck. There must be around twenty people on board and the barge, though large enough to hold you, cannot have much space to carry that much crates of supplies. Lord Redall notices your expression and shrugs. "If you are worried, we can always start eating a sailor if we run out of supplies," he says. Your eyes widen at the prospect and too late you realise, Lord Redall is laughing at you. His laughter seems to capture attention from a few of his sailors.<<if $irus_lock is true>> Beyond that, Prince Irus turns, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of Lord Redall laughing at your side. He turns away before you can think too much of it and you glance at Lord Redall.<</if>> "Forgive me," he chuckles, though there is nothing contrite about his tone. "I was merely jesting. Rest assured, there is enough supplies for us all. I have made this trip before and it never takes more than a fortnight even with delays." [[Next.|chp4_24a1_landing]]

<<if $chp4_24_red lt 5>>There are still more questions in your mind and you turn to Lord Redall, hoping for answers. <<if $redA is false>> [["How long will the journey to Ishari take?" you ask.|chp4_24a1_a][$redA to true, $chp4_24_red +=1]]<</if>> <<if $redB is false>> [["Should we expect danger while we travel?" you question.|chp4_24a1_b][$redB to true, $chp4_24_red +=1]]<</if>> <<if $redC is false>> [["Do the sailors know why we are travelling to Ishari?" you enquire.|chp4_24a1_c][$redC to true, $chp4_24_red +=1]]<</if>> <<if $redD is false>> [["What will happen if we enounter trouble at sea?" you query.|chp4_24a1_d][$redD to true, $chp4_24_red +=1]]<</if>> <<if $redE is false>> [["Do we have enough supplies to last us that long?" you ask.|chp4_24a1_e][$redE to true, $chp4_24_red +=1]]<</if>><<elseif $chp4_24_red is 5>>You have asked Lord Redall most of your pressing questions. A sailor from the main deck calls out to him and Lord Redall offers you a small smile before he strides away. Once more, you are free to do as you please for the time being. <<if $chp4_23_irus is false>> [[You decide to speak to Prince Irus.|chp4_24b][$chp4_23_irus to true, $chp4_23_task +=1]]<</if>> <<if $chp4_23_ship is false>> [[You choose to explore the barge.|chp4_24c][$chp4_23_ship to true, $chp4_23_task +=1]]<</if>> <<if $chp4_23_task is 3>> [[You decide to settle down for your long journey across the sea.|chp4_25]]<</if>><</if>>

As you settle into the sway of the barge, your gaze lingers against the brightness of the sea and the horizon beyond it. It is only the start of a long journey, one that will bring Prince Irus closer to defeating the Blood Guard and his uncle. You allow the crash of the waters against the shudder of the barge to soothe you into a blissfulness, for you do not know when you will get the chance to relax like this again. [[Next.|chp4_26]]

<<if $chp4_24b is 1>> "You are right," you agree. "They are too dangerous to be allowed to exist." Prince Irus nods, a determined look passing through his eyes. "As soon as I reclaim the throne, I will make sure to get rid of the Blood Guard. Their purpose is to destroy and I... I do not want my reign to be the same as my father's." His words are hesitant, as if the idea that he would become like King Erlan has never left the confines of his mind. Glancing at him, you meet Prince Irus' gaze, noting the sincerity in the blue irises there. "You will be different," you reply. "And getting rid of the Blood Guard is a good start." <<elseif $chp4_24b is 2>> "They are dangerous, but they might be worth keeping around if used for the good of the kingdom and your reign," you respond. The Blood Guard are violent and ruthless, but they follow the orders of the ruler of Cyre. There is no need to use them to oppress the people of Ishari, not if Prince Irus intends on allying with them. But there might be those who are loyal to his uncle and if that is the case, Prince Irus will need the aid of the Blood Guard to disapatch with those who would rise against him. "I... are they not the reason for your the war against Ishari?" he asks. "How can you think keeping them around is good?" You explain your reasoning, your words seeming to bring clarity to Prince Irus' eyes. He sighs, a tired sound that leaves him wearing a frown and creased eyebrows on his expression. "You speak sensibly," he replies. "I only hope that I do not lose sight of the good of the kingdom like my father did." <<elseif $chp4_24b is 3>> "Maybe you can keep them, after reforming the reason for their existence," you suggest. There are advantages to maintaining trained soldiers that are loyal to the king, especially when there are many who might threaten or oppose Prince Irus' rule of Cyre. However, keeping the Blood Guard in its current form would mean maintaining the ruthlessness of the Blood Guard's ethos. "Reform the Blood Guard, is that even possible?" Prince Irus asks, more curious than confused. You shrug. "If anyone could do it, it could be you." Prince Irus nods, his eyebrows furrowing in thought. "You are right. Perhaps something can be gained from changing its structure." <</if>> [[Next.|chp4_24b2]]

The main deck rocks suddenly and Prince Irus nearly loses his footing with a yell. Before he can topple, the rough swell of the sea settles until it sways gently once more. Prince Irus makes a face, glancing at you with pursed lips. "I cannot wait until we are done at sea," he grumbles. "I have never enjoyed being at sea much." You realise that before you met him, Prince Irus was living a life entirely different from yours. Though you have had glimpses of what his time was like in Cyre, you do not know much more than what he has told you. <<set $chp4_24b2 to 0>><<set $chp4_irusA to false>><<set $chp4_irusB to false>><<set $chp4_irusC to false>><<set $chp4_irusD to false>> [["Have you travelled by ship before?" you ask, noting the frown on his mouth.|chp4_24b2_a][$chp4_irusA to true, $chp4_24b2 +=1]] [["Do you miss your life in Cyre?" you question.|chp4_24b2_b][$chp4_24b2 +=1, $chp4_irusB to true]] [["What was it like for you, before you were exiled?" you query.|chp4_24b2_c][$chp4_24b2 +=1, $chp4_irusC to true]] [["Are you looking forward to when this is all over?" you enquire.|chp4_24b2_d][$chp4_24b2 +=1, $chp4_irusD to true]]

"Have you travelled by ship before?" you ask, noting the frown on his mouth. Prince Irus' gaze turns distant, as if thinking about memories that you are not privy to. When he speaks, his voice is low as if afraid to interrupt the thoughts of his past. "A few times," he replies. "When I was much younger. My father took me to the Southern Islands a few times. It was one of the few times he let me accompany him. Though in hindsight, he likely wanted to keep me away from my mother." You frown. "Your mother, but why?" <<if $irusRel gte 60>> "My mother's opinion on the deities differed from my father's," he huffs. The frown on his mouth deepens. "She thought my father's thirst for war was wrong, because the deities are not nearly as separate as my father liked to have believed."<<else>> Prince Irus turns away, shrugging. "It isn't important."<</if>> [[Next.|chp4_24b2_landing]]

"Do you miss your life in Cyre?" you question. Prince Irus seems to think over your question and by the way his mouth twists, there are complicated feelings that your question rouses within him. When he eventually speaks, it is with a weary voice. "I miss how easy it used to be," he murmurs. "Things were never supposed to be this complicated and yet, it is." You nod in understanding, your own thoughts drifting to your life in Salt Bay. Your life was by no means easy, especially when you were an outcast, but you cannot deny the allure of a mostly peaceful life to the one you are experiencing now. The unknown dangers that await you, set you on edge and it is difficult to fault Prince Irus for longing for the quieter days of the past. [[Next.|chp4_24b2_landing]]

"What was it like for you, before you were exiled?" you query. A snort of derision escapes Prince Irus and when you turn towards him, a questioning look in your gaze, he offers you a sheepish smile. It takes him a moment before he finds the words to answer you and when he does, his words are laced with bitterness. "It was easy," he murmurs. "I could do as I pleased for the most part and no one truly cared. I was my father's son and objecting to me was almost like objecting to him." "You seem upset," you comment, noting the vehemence in his tone. "I am upset, $name," he sighs. "All this time, I wasted it away on wine and banquets instead of doing anything meaningful. Looking back at what I had, I cannot fathom how foolish I truly was." [[Next.|chp4_24b2_landing]]

"Are you looking forward to when this is all over?" you enquire. For a moment, you think that Prince Irus has not heard you because he does not speak. You turn towards him, taking in the thoughtful expression in his eyes and decide to give him a moment to form an answer. Your patience is soon rewarded, because Prince Irus turns, his blue eyes meeting your gaze. "I suppose I am," he replies. "I long for the day when I do not have to think about my uncle or the Blood Guard. But..." He trails off, swallowing. "But what?" you question. <<if $irusRel gte 60>> "But I am not looking forward to taking the throne, $name," he breathes. "I saw what it did to my father and I am afraid of what it will do to me." You nod in understanding. "It is a scary thought but when you become king, you will be able to do much better than him, Irus." Prince Irus glances at you and smiles. "You are right, thank you, $name."<<else>> "It is a silly thought," he responds, offering you no further explanation. "Do not worry about it."<</if>> [[Next.|chp4_24b2_landing]]

<<if $chp4_24b2 lt 4>>There are still things you do not know about Prince Irus' past and intend on learning more about him while you are out at sea together. <<if $chp4_irusA is false>> [["Have you travelled by ship before?" you ask, noting the frown on his mouth.|chp4_24b2_a][$chp4_irusA to true, $chp4_24b2 +=1]]<</if>> <<if $chp4_irusB is false>> [["Do you miss your life in Cyre?" you question.|chp4_24b2_b][$chp4_24b2 +=1, $chp4_irusB to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp4_irusC is false>> [["What was it like for you, before you were exiled?" you query.|chp4_24b2_c][$chp4_24b2 +=1, $chp4_irusC to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp4_irusD is false>> [["Are you looking forward to when this is all over?" you enquire.|chp4_24b2_d][$chp4_24b2 +=1, $chp4_irusD to true]]<</if>> <<elseif $chp4_24b2 is 4>>There are no questions left to ask Prince Irus and it seems that bringing back memories of his past has given him much to think about. You leave him alone once more as you step away from where he gazes at the sea. [[Next.|chp4_25]]<</if>>

<<if $chp4_24c is 1>> You wish that he was here so that you could share this moment together. It seems that you have uncovered more about him in death than you ever did when he was alive. Perhaps it is because of this, you find your heart clenching at the knowledge that you will never see Ahlf again. He would have enjoyed the sea, the only time that he ever seemed tranquil. You wonder if he would have opened up to you in time, perhaps even speaking about his relationship with Mama and his life before you were born. But wondering is all you have and you soothe yourself with the memories of your father as you gaze at the sea. <<elseif $chp4_24c is 2>> The memory of your father leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. It is like tasting ash, the decay of something that sits rotting until it bubbles to the surface, threatening to drown all in its path. As your eyes shift around the barge, you cannot help the memories of your father coming to the surface, threatening to sour your mood entirely. He was not a good father, nor was he a kind one. At times, it was difficult to know whether he loved you and whether he wished you were someone else's problem. Being surrounded by the sea only serves as a harsh reminder of the mark he has left on you and it is one you would rather escape. <<elseif $chp4_24c is 3>> You miss the thought of having a father, but you know that if he was here today, he would still be as gruff as he used to be. Nostalgia has an odd way of twisting the truth until you become uncertain if your memory is skewed by your own emotions. You know that Ahlf was never truly able to do what you had always longed for - being there for you. He might have kept you fed and clothed, but he never sought you out to simply speak. If he was here today, you cannot be certain if your father would haves spoken to you much. Perhaps he would have preferred solitude to your company or perhaps he would have found himself spending most of his time with the sailors around you. Whatever it would have been, you know that it would not have changed your relationship with him. <<elseif $chp4_24c is 4>> Your lips twist into a scowl at the memory of him. Even in death, he still finds a way to plague your thoughts. Is it so wrong that you want to forget about the impact he had on your life? You know that there are lessons to be learnt from his relationship with you, but you are not ready to learn them and you are uncertain if you ever will be. Ahlf was not the father you needed or craved. When Mama left you with him, it had been painful and left you searching for guidance and receiving none in return. Being at sea has only reminded you of the man your father was and the father he could never have been. <<elseif $chp4_24c is 5>> Your father died long before he was slain by Morden so you can only stand there, unbothered by the memories of him. When most fathers do more than simply exist in the same space as their children, it is difficult to comprehend that Ahlf shared your blood. He ignored you on the best of days and on the worst, would offer you nothing but his odd stares as if you were a terrifying beast. To mourn him now would be foolish. You cannot bring yourself to care that he is not with you now. He was not a father long before his death and it is something that has stuck with you since then. Perhaps someone else might have wept for his absence, but can you truly mourn a man that had never been a father to you? <</if>> Remaining on the main deck only brings up memories of your father so you turn away, hoping to explore the rest of the barge and to escape your thoughts. <<set $chp4_shipEX to 0>><<set $chp4_shipA to false>><<set $chp4_shipC to false>><<set $chp4_shipB to false>> [[Explore the crew quarters.|chp4_24c1_a][$chp4_shipEX +=1, $chp4_shipA to true]] [[You clamber down the ladder, to where the crates and supplies have been loaded.|chp4_24c1_b][$chp4_shipEX +=1, $chp4_shipB to true]] [[Visit the captain's quarters.|chp4_24c1_c][$chp4_shipEX +=1, $chp4_shipC to true]]

The descent below the main deck leaves you struggling to see over the dimness of the room. It is far larger than you expected it to be and as you wait for your eyes to adjust, you realise that most of the room has been packed with large crates and barrels. Stepping deeper into the room, you hear a faint huff of breath and you follow the sound, curious of its source. Weaving between the crates, your eyes settle on a steed, nearly midnight in colour in the dimness of the small room. It is Crown, tethered to a nearby hook and kept safely behind a makeshift stall. You step towards him and he snorts at your approach. Slipping your palm through the openings of the wooden slats, you stroke his nose as he sighs against your palm. He seems surprisingly at ease for a horse being stowed away below the main deck of the barge. Another sigh leaves Crown's nose, moisture gathering against your skin and you find your lips curling into a smile. Drawing your hand away, you make a note to come and seek him out later when the chance arises. Your curiosity sated, you return to the main deck. [[Next.|chp4_24c_landing]]

The crew quarters are situated below a hatch that leads to a cramped room, with hammocks and the stale smell of sweat and fatigue. It is empty as you step inside and the only light that filters through comes from a small porthole on the far side of the wall. You glance around, realising that there not nearly enough hammocks as their are sailors on board, though there must be some sort of system to when they get to sleep. You do not know where you or Prince Irus will be resting during your stay, though you hope it does not involve sharing a hammock with one of the sailors above deck. Turning away from the quarters, you clamber up the ladder and pull yourself through the open hatch. [[Next.|chp4_24c_landing]]

The captain's quarters are situated away from the crew quarters and is bigger than you expected it to be. It belongs to the captain of Lord Redall's barge, though by the looks of the sailor who stands at the helm of the ship, you are unsure if the room actually belongs to Lord Redall and not the captain. After all, this is Lord Redall's trip to oversee and you doubt he would give up such a spacious place. As you step into the quarters, you take note of the large table that sits at one side of the room. There are cabinets secured to the floor with iron nails and within the shelves, you catch glimpses of books and rolled up scrolls. Stepping further into the room, you spy a small cot, covered in pillows and heavy quilts and above it, rests a mounted sword that seems as if it is intended for more than display. There is a lot more to see, from ornaments to figurines made of glimmering bronze but the sound of voices from outside draws your attention away. With a final glance, you step out of the captain's quarters. Perhaps you will get another chance to examine the items inside. [[Next.|chp4_24c_landing]]

<<if $chp4_shipEX lt 3>>There is still much more to see in the barge, despite its small size and you turn your gaze over the deck. <<if $chp4_shipA is false>> [[Explore the crew quarters.|chp4_24c1_a][$chp4_shipEX +=1, $chp4_shipA to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp4_shipB is false>> [[You clamber down the ladder, to where the crates and supplies have been loaded.|chp4_24c1_b][$chp4_shipEX +=1, $chp4_shipB to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp4_shipC is false>> [[Visit the captain's quarters.|chp4_24c1_c][$chp4_shipEX +=1, $chp4_shipC to true]]<</if>><<elseif $chp4_shipEX is 3>>You have explored all there is to see in the barge and from the curious stares from the sailors around you, you realise that your snooping has not gone unnoticed. It is best if you stop before you anger those you will be spending the next few weeks with. [[Next.|chp4_25]]<</if>>

The next few days aboard Lord Redall's barge sees you listless and looking for something to do. Despite the warning of danger, there has been no sightings of Virion or the Blood Guard so far and the journey has been as boring as it has been peaceful. After trying to help the sailors with little luck, you resign yourself to searching through the books in the captain's quarters. Lord Redall offered you and Prince Irus a chance to go through the numerous books and while Prince Irus thanked him, you find that he had little interest in perusing the vast texts. <<set $chp4_26 to 0>> [[You use the time to mostly read books on warfare and strategies.|chp4_27][$chp4_26 +=1, $blades +=10]] [[You use the time to learn more the different leadership styles.|chp4_27][$chp4_26 +=2, $leadership +=10]] [[You focus mainly on the political treaties and scrolls.|chp4_27][$chp4_26 +=3, $politics +=10]]

<<if $chp4_26 is 1>> You peruse the leather bound book, reading about warfare strategies and the different tactics utilised by the different regions. In the end, you have a stronger grasp on warfare and feel your knowledge increase. <<elseif $chp4_26 is 2>> You peruse the leather bound book, reading about leadership styles and the different techniques utilised by the different regions. In the end, you have a stronger grasp on leadership and feel your knowledge increase. <<elseif $chp4_26 is 3>> You peruse the leather bound book, reading about political treaties and the different diplomatic missions utilised by the different regions. In the end, you have a stronger grasp on politics and feel your knowledge increase. <</if>> [[Next.|chp4_28]]

There is only so much you can read and eventually you find yourself on the main deck. Most of the sailors have retired for the night. The sky is a dark expanse of glittering stars. In the distance, you catch the faint smell of a storm, though it is still a while away from the barge. The wind brushes against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. You hear the approach of footsteps and turning around, you notice Prince Irus. He glances at you, a strange look in his gaze. In the days that passed, he has become less anxious and more dertermined. Though his silence was something you were unsure how to understand. [[Next.|chp4_29]]

Prince Irus wears a loose tunic, the material dyed red and cut around his neck to reveal the skin beneath. His golden hair seems messier than usual, the wind ruffling the short curls in the breeze. He sighs, taking a seat beside you as his eyes shift towards the gathering clouds in the distance. It has been a week since you set sail and the journey has been strangely peaceful. You know that it would be foolish to think that Virion has given up on his quest to stop Prince Irus, but with little sign of anyone out at sea besides your barge, it is difficult to remember that you are not alone at sea. "There's a storm brewing," Prince Irus murmurs. You glance at the clouds. A spark of light flashes through them, an orange glow that disappears as quickly as it appeared. The sailors around you have gone below deck, though some remain on guard, perhaps expecting to fight against the turbulent weather. You glance at Prince Irus again, suspecting that he is not really speaking about the storm ahead. <<set $chp4_29 to 0>> [["What's the matter?" you ask, concerned.|chp4_30][$chp4_29 +=1]] [["There is," you agree, thinking about the task ahead.|chp4_30][$chp4_29 +=2]] [["It will pass soon, much like everything else," you answer.|chp4_30][$chp4_29 +=3]] [["I know," you sigh, noting the gathering clouds.|chp4_30][$chp4_29 +=4]]

<<if $chp4_29 is 1>> "What's the matter?" you ask, concerned. Prince Irus stares ahead, his expression thoughtful. You glance at him, noting the flicker of the orange lightning flashing through his blue eyes, as if in that moment, he is part of the rumbling of the storm. When he finally turns to look at you, there is a worried look in his eyes, as if he is expecting something that you are not privy to. "It has been too easy," he replies. "This journey. My uncle would not have given up this easily, $name." You nod in understanding. It has been an odd pace of things. Expecting the Blood Guard to follow you closely behind, you had not expected your journey to be nearing to an end with not a single sighting of danger. "Redall says he sent word to Ishari," Prince Irus explains. "There has been no sighting of my uncle there either. I do not know what to think. It cannot be this easy to escape." <<elseif $chp4_29 is 2>> "There is," you agree, thinking about the task ahead. You are silent as you gaze at the storm clouds in the distance. Another streak of orange erupts through the darkness and you shiver, the scent of rain lingering against the salty sea. Below the barge, the water churns steadily, rising in tempo and juddering the deck. Prince Irus lets out a breath as the sailors begin to lower the sails slightly. "Do you think that he will be waiting for us in Ishari?" Prince Irus asks. His words are something that you have not truly contemplated until now. Is that why your journey so far has been easy? Has Virion realised that Prince Irus is on his way to Ishari? It would make sense as to why your journey has been this easy. Doubt begins to fill your thoughts and you fight the urge to look for signs of boats in tow. "If he was waiting in Ishari, Lord Redall would have been notified by now," you respond. Prince Irus nods, but it is clear that your words have not soothed either of you. <<elseif $chp4_29 is 3>> "It will pass soon, much like everything else," you answer. The words are hollow, a low thing that is barely louder than the crash of the sea beneath you. Yet, you know it to be true. Much like most of your life, things tend to happen and pass over time. While you know that there is nothing good to come in your next confrontation with the Blood Guard, you know that it will be over. "I suppose you are right," Prince Irus mumbles. You glance at him. "I am." He is staring at his hands. Though there is no one near enough for you to overhear what he might say, you sense a great burden being taken from him, even if you don't know what he has lost. His shoulders slump and he sighs heavily. "How does a ruler bear this?" he asks. You open your mouth to respond but find that you are as uncertain as he is. Instead, you focus on what you know to be true. "You do it with the help of allies." <<elseif $chp4_29 is 4>> "I know," you sigh, noting the gathering clouds. You stare at the lightning, the orange glow striking in the middle of the clouds. Above you, the stars still glimmer as if defying the storm is as easy as simply existing. Beside you, Prince Irus stares at the clouds with apprehension. You wonder if he thinks about the Blood Guard or if he fears the thought of confronting his uncle again. "I thought it would get easier," he murmurs. "After Ellie offered her help, I thought it would take away some of the burden." He says that last sentence almost too quietly for you to catch, but he speaks enough for you to hear. You reach out and touch him lightly on the arm. "Sometimes it does," you tell him. "But sometimes we need to be strong for others." Prince Irus sighs, as he runs a hand through his hair. "You're right. But I still cannot shake the feeling of something being wrong." <</if>> [[Next.|chp4_31]]

You sit alongside Prince Irus as the wind picks up speed. The barge sails unsteadily through the choppy sea and you grip the railing to keep from falling over. It is cold, unbearingly so and your fingers ache where they grip tightly around the railing. Prince Irus peers at the storm clouds, the barge seeming to sail towards it. Behind you, a few sailors shout as they struggle to keep the sails from flapping. A strong wind blows, forcing water into their eyes, causing them to blink rapidly. You do not have that luxury. Your feet feel numb; your fingers hurt but you cannot let go of the rail for fear of tipping off the boat. <<if $irus_lock is true>> Prince Irus reaches over, his fingers gripping you as you tilt forward. You feel the strain of his arm as he draws you closer, holding you in place beside him. Against the cold of the storm, his heat is a welcomed relief and you almost sag against him.<<else>> "$name," Prince Irus calls. "Hold on." Your fingers throb painfully as you struggle to keep your grip, but somehow, you manage to keep from sliding as the deck tilts against the sudden shift in the sea.<</if>> "Ship!" Your eyes widen and you turn towards the shout. Lord Redall has emerged, holding a spyglass as he peers through it. He glances at you and then at Prince Irus. There is a intensity in his grey eyes when he speaks. "An enemy vessel," Lord Redall explains. "And they're coming straight towards us." [[Next.|chp4_32]]

The rain comes quickly after, splattering against your skin and soaking through your clothes. You can barely see past the storm but soon enough, you notice the sails of the other ship sailing towards you. Lord Redall barks out an order at the sailors and when he turns to you and Prince Irus, he speaks out in a growl. "The ship does not belong to your uncle," Lord Redall states. "It's belongs to the Nomad Tribes." <<if $codeNomad is true>> You remember what you learnt about the Nomad Tribes and their independance from other regions. Yet, if they are after you, could it be that they are now working with Virion or are they simply targeting the supplies on the barge? <<elseif $codeNomad is false>> "Nomad Tribes?" you question. Lord Redall nods. "They're a nation of independant tribes. But they are rivalled by none in warfare and ship construction. If they are after us then they must be working with His Highness' uncle."<</if>> You blink, rain blurring your visions. A loud crack of thunder erupts above you and you slap your palms over your ears against the loudness. Lord Redall's mouth moves, but it is hard to hear him over the sound of the storm. He begins pointing to the area below deck and you realise that he is expecting you to take cover. [[You take cover below deck, hoping to comfort Crown.|chp4_32a]] [[You decide to remain above deck, in case of any danger.|chp4_32b]]

You eagerly make your way below deck, hoping to escape the storm and the danger that awaits you. As you clamber down the ladder, you expect to see Prince Irus following after you, but you realise with a start that he has chosen to remain with the rest of the sailors. Behind you, you hear the panicked whinnies from Crown. Blinking the rain out from your eyes, you... <<set $chp4_32_return to false>> [[...return to the main deck, unable to leave Prince Irus alone.|chp32_landing][$chp4_32_return to true]] [[...remain below deck to help soothe Crown.|chp4_32a1]]

You ignore Lord Redall, deciding that it would be best to stay above deck. If the enemy does attack you, remaining below deck would be akin to waiting for danger to find you. Realising that you will not comply with his orders, Lord Redall reaches into his coat and thrusts a dagger into your hand. He leans close, his voice a yell to be heard over the thunder. "Keep His Highness away from the enemy," he yells. You nod and turn, catching Prince Irus at your side. His eyes are wide and he turns, meeting your gaze. <<if $irus_lock is true>>A flicker of emotion spreads through his eyes and he reaches out, dragging you to his chest. His warmth seeps through your soaked clothes and you barely have time to enjoy his embrace before he pulls away.<<else>> He nods to you, a determination filling his eyes.<</if>> There is little time to prepare as the barge suddenly groans, juddering as it does. You sway unsteadily, the deck trembling as it strikes against the enemy ship. A shout pierces through the haze of the storm and you look up just in time to see the enemy assailants boarding the deck. [[Next.|chp4_32b1]]

With a contrite look at Crown, you turn and head back up the ladder. The deck is slick with rain, water sloshing between your boots as you search through the storm for Prince Irus. It is hard to see past the sailors who rush around you, their voices coming out as sharp yells of warnings. You catch a glimpse of Prince Irus' blond hair and without thinking, you rush towards him. The deck sways beneath your feet and you lurch forward, managing to stay upright when a pair of strong hands grip at your shoulders. You swallow and look up, finding Prince Irus staring at you in disbelief. "What are you doing here?" he demands. He begins to push you back towards the hatch. "You shouldn't be out here." "I'm not leaving you up here alone," you reply. He begins to protest but his words are suddenly drowned out by the painful groan of the barge. You jerk, the deck hitting something solid. When you look up, you find the enemy ship right beside the barge. There are shouts and you watch as the enemy assailants begin to board onto the deck. [[Next.|chp4_32b1]]

You cannot abandon Crown, not when it is clear that he is in distress. Ignoring the storm above you, you make your way through the crates, moving towards the dark steed. At your approach Crown nickers and you reach out, moving to settle yourself beside him. His nose is wet as he sniffs at your neck and you can only rub his neck, hoping to soothe him. The barge suddenly jerks, and you grip Crown, unable to avoid the lurching of the floor. Crown whinnies loudly and you grip him, holding on as you struggle to keep steady. <<set $chp4_32a1 to 0>> [["It's alright," you murmur, rubbing Crown's neck.|chp4_32a2][$chp4_32a1 +=1]] [[You grip him tighter, trying to soothe him with your presence.|chp4_32a2][$chp4_32a1 +=2]] [["It will all be over soon," you soothe, holding onto Crown.|chp4_32a2][$chp4_32a1 +=3]]

<<if $chp4_32a1 is 1>> "It's alright," you murmur, rubbing Crown's neck. Your eyes are wide open, trying desperately to make sense of your situation but all you see are the crates of weapons and supplies and food. The wind howls and the rain batters against the wooden wall surrounding the ship like angry fingers. Everything is chaos and it does not seem as if anyone could survive this. <<elseif $chp4_32a1 is 2>> You grip him tighter, trying to soothe him with your presence. Crown is warm against your hold, though his breathing comes out in sharp pants, his head turning towards the loud crash of the sea around the barge. You struggle to keep your composure, as you rub his dark mane. The ship lurches again and you stumble, gripping onto Crown for support. He snorts, but does not pull away from you. <<elseif $chp4_32a1 is 3>> "It will all be over soon," you soothe, holding onto Crown. The barge rolls again and you hold tight, keeping your head down even as you hope for a miracle. You are tired of being in danger and never knowing if anything can help you. You try to focus on Crown and how anxious he seems. As you grip at his side, clinging to his heat against the crack of thunder, you find your composure slipping and a sliver of fear twisting in your gut. <</if>> You hear a loud cry from above and then, the barge rocks as though it has crashed into something solid. Crown whinnies once more and this time, you are unable to calm him. There is a patter of footsteps and you think you hear the sound of shouting. It is hard to make out what is happening. It is too loud and overwhelming but beneath the sting of salt and the smell of the storm, you smell the familiar burn of blood. The scent hits you full force like an icy gust and your heart stops in its tracks. Without thinking, your legs carry you towards the hatch and when you peer out, you are left gawking at the chaos around you. Armed fighters wearing dark clothing rush back and forth with their swords flashing as they cut down anyone who tries to stop them. They do not seem inclined to take prisoners. You cannot make out anyone you know and as you stare, you catch the attention of one of the armed fighters. He grins, his blade flashing as he approaches you. <<set $chp4_assailant_hatch to 0>> [[You look for a makeshift weapon to defend yourself.|chp4_32a3][$chp4_assailant_hatch +=1]] [[You rush back to Crown, terrified of what might happen.|chp4_32a3][$chp4_assailant_hatch +=2]] [[You freeze in terror, unable to move.|chp4_32a3][$chp4_assailant_hatch +=3]]

<<if $chp4_assailant_hatch is 1>> You search the hatch and only manage to find a thin pole, crudely made with iron. Grabbing it, you grip it in your palm as the man surges towards you. You manage to slip beneath the hatch once again, avoiding the strike of his blade and you stare up at him from above the hatch. He leers at you and behind you, Crown whinnies loudly. The assailant pushes past the opened hatchway, his boots hitting the floor with a loud thud. Rain spills through the opening and the only form of light comes from the lightning that streaks above. He notices the metal pole in your hand and grins, all teeth and wildness. He lunges for you and you swing the weapon, sending it sailing through the air and catching the man on the side of the head. His face contorts into a rage as he charges forward and before you can blink, he is upon you. His sword slices through the air and it takes everything you have to avoid being impaled. You stumble back, the floor slippery and lurching beneath you. With a yell, he kicks at your knees and you go sprawling onto the ground. He stands over you, grinning madly and you feel the weight of his boot settle heavily on your chest. <<elseif $chp4_assailant_hatch is 2>> You do not think, you can only turn and run. Your palms are clammy with fear and the wooden ladder slips under your grip. Boot slipping, you find yourself stumbling onto the ground, dazed and covered in the rain that spills down from the opened hatchway. You follow the sound of Crown's whinnies, struggling to see past your own hand. The assailant's footsteps come after you, heavy thunderclaps deafening out the sound of your racing heartbeat. Fear coils in your gut and you struggle to crawl towards Crown, your breathing come out in sharp pants. Your fingers brush against Crown's coat and you let out a relieved breath. "Nowhere left to run,<<if $heir is "son">> boy<<elseif $heir is "daughter">> girl<</if>>," the man behind you growls. You turn just in time to avoid the blow of his blade. Crown thrashes about but it does not deter the man as he comes again and again, his blade glinting in the flicker of lightning. You yell out when his leg kicks out at you, causing you to stumble back. The floor is wet beneath your tunic and you can only look up as he presses his boot against your chest. <<elseif $chp4_assailant_hatch is 3>> Your heartbeat thunders under your chest, rivalling the cacophony of the storm above you. You cannot breathe or think. Your body will not move, even when the assailant comes dangerously close to you, his teeth flashing in the darkness. He leans down and you glimpse the scar running down the side of his face and suddenly go stumbling back. The ladder is slippery and you cannot keep your grip. You land with a thud, dazed and slightly out of breath. Rain splatters around you from the opened hatchway and you barely avoid the man's heavy blade as he charges down after you. Fear rolls uneasily in your gut, churning like the sea that rocks the barge. You look around for help, for anyone who can save you but there is no one with you but Crown. He whinnies bejind you, thrashing about in his stall but you know that it is too late. The man surges towards you, his leg kicking out at your knees. You fall back with a sharp cry, the air robbed from your lungs. Striding forward, the man glares down at you, resting his heavy boot against your chest. You can barely breathe or think beyond the rush of blood in your ears. <</if>> Without warning, he hoists you up, dragging you with him as he forces you up the ladder and out of the hatchway. [[Next.|chp4_32a4]]

You are shoved forward and collapse to your knees. The deck is slick with rain and something too dark to be water. You tremble, the stench of blood reaching your nose. Glancing around you, you find the sailors from Lord Redall's barge struggling against the assailants. In the middle, you find Prince Irus with Lord Redall, bound in thick ropes. The man who came after you drags you towards where they are bound and you see Prince Irus' eyes widening. <<if $irus_lock is true>> He struggles against the ropes that hold him in place, his expression twisting into fury. "Let go of $MChim!" But his attempts are futile and you watch as one of the assailants strike him across the jaw, silencing his voice. Your heart constricts at the sight and you are shoved towards Prince Irus, bound along with him.<<else>> You are quickly shoved towards where Lord Redall and Prince Irus are, and the assailants quickly bind you with thick ropes that hold you in place.<</if>> [[Next.|chp4_33]]

Rain pelts down against your skin and it is hard to see beyond the cruel faces that stare back at you. It is Lord Redall who breaks the silence as the last of the sailors are subdued. "Why are you doing this?" he demands. The leader, or as much as one can be a leader of vicious fighters can be, steps forward. She is tall and could pass for someone much younger if it was not for the grey in her hair. Her eyes are hard, a cruelty in them that reminds you of the stare that Morden used towards you. "There's a bounty on the boy's head," she snarls, pointing her blade dangerously close to Prince Irus' face. "And I intend on collecting it." "If it's money you want then-" Lord Redall is silenced with a kick to his side. "The Nomad Tribes have no use for your coins," the woman spits. "We only want what we are due. Land in the kingdoms you claim as your own." <<set $chp4_33 to 0>> [["Please, let us go," you plead. "We are only trying to do what is right."|chp4_34][$chp4_33 +=1]] [["Why are you working for Virion? He will kill you when your use runs out," you reason.|chp4_34][$chp4_33 +=2]] [["I will kill you all if you do not let us go," you yell.|chp4_34][$chp4_33 +=3]]

They are clad in dark tunics, wielding blades that glint in the reflection of the lightning. They move swiftly, their steps measured as they stride toward you. You have barely a moment to take them in before one reaches the railing beside you, his hand gripping your arm, squeezing hard enough to break the skin. Your breath catches sharply and you gasp, trying to wrench your arm free. <<if $irus_lock is true>> Prince Irus winds his arm back, slamming his fist down onto the assailant's face. There is a loud crunch as the grip on your arm releases as the assailant falls back, his grip on the railing slipping. You stare in terror, but Prince Irus is suddenly there, gripping your face in his palms. "$name, are you alright?" he demands, his gaze frantic. "I... yes," you mumble, still unable to slow your racing heartbeat.<<else>> Prince Irus winds his arm back, slamming his fist down onto the assailant's face. There is a loud crunch as the grip on your arm releases as the assailant falls back, his grip on the railing slipping. You stare in terror, but Prince Irus is suddenly there, gazing over the railing. "It's fine," he mumbles. "You're safe. We're safe." You nod, unable to tear your gaze away from where the assailant disappeared beneath the railing.<</if>> There is no time to think about the consequences of what happened, because suddenly, there are more of the assailants. Around you, Lord Redall's sailors fight against them, but it is clear that you are outnumbered. <<set $chp4_32b1 to 0>> [[You surge forward, ready to defend Prince Irus.|chp4_32b2][$chp4_32b1 +=1]] [[You stand back, hoping to keep you and Prince Irus away from danger.|chp4_32b2][$chp4_32b1 +=2]] [[You are frozen with indecision, fear gripping you tightly.|chp4_32b2][$chp4_32b1 +=3]]

<<if $chp4_32b1 is 1>> There is little time to think and any hesitation could cost you your life. You raise the dagger, a small thing against blades of glimmering steel and push yourself ahead of Prince Irus. <<if $irus_lock is true>>Prince Irus stares at you with wide eyes, gripping at your arm. "What are you doing?" he demands. "You'll get hurt. Stay behind me." You offer him a smile, noting the concern in his voice. "It's alright, Irus. They're after you, not me. Besides, I'm armed and you're not."<<else>>Prince Irus stares at you with wide eyes and he looks as if he wants to call you back, but you turn away from him as you focus on the assailaints ahead.<</if>> A woman with dark hair dressed in the dark tunic of the enemy assailants notices you and Prince Irus. A grin splits across her lips and she charges towards you with a thin sword. You barely manage to dodge her attack and struggle against her as she presses forward. It is hard to see through the rain around you and your foot slips against the wet deck. You feel an arm grip you - Prince Irus, but there is no time to thank him as the woman surges towards you again. This time, her blade hits the side of your wrist, enough to send a ripple of pain up your arm. With a hiss, you let go of the dagger and it clatters onto the deck. <<elseif $chp4_32b1 is 2>> There are too many assailants, you realise. Lord Redall's sailors are outnumbered and so are you. You cannot hope to defeat this many attackers on your own, not when Prince Irus is vulnerable to an attack. Instead, you back away from the chaos of the main deck, your back bumping into Prince Irus behind you. <<if $irus_lock is true>>"Come behind me," Prince Irus hisses. "You're exposing yourself like this." You turn, catching the worried look in his blue eyes. "It's fine. They're after you, not me, Irus." "I don't like this, $name," Prince Irus replies. "You're putting yourself at risk."<<else>>Prince Irus lets out a sharp breath as another sailor is struck closer to where you stand. You swallow, suddenly unable to think of a way out of this where you and Prince Irus survive.<</if>> It does not take long before you have nowhere left to escape. The main deck is awash with rain and the smell of blood. You can barely breathe through the hase of the storm and your grip on the dagger falters slightly. A woman with dark hair suddenly spots you and Prince Irus. She leers, a grin as vicious as the blade she wields. You do not have a chance to think as she charges straight for you. Her blade comes down in a sharp swing, and you barely miss being cut in half as Prince Irus drags you back. She grunts, her eyes hard as she glowers at you. You raise your dagger, suddenly small and useless against this formiddable opponent and her thin rapier. It is hard to see through the rain around you and your foot slips against the wet deck. You feel an arm grip you - Prince Irus, but there is no time to thank him as the woman surges towards you again. This time, her blade hits the side of your wrist, enough to send a ripple of pain up your arm. With a hiss, you let go of the dagger and it clatters onto the deck. <<elseif $chp4_32b1 is 3>> Your breath lodges in the back of your throat. The rain is loud and the smell of blood too strong. Your grip on the dagger falters as you stare at the sailors around you being cut down by the assailants who have boarded the deck. You cannot think or speak or move. Fear coils in your gut, surging past your throat like a bitter burn that refuses to leave. <<if $irus_lock is true>>"$name," Prince Irus calls. He grips your hand. "Come. We have to get away." He half-drags you away from the chaos on the main deck and you would have stumbled over your feet if Prince Irus did not grip you so tightly. It is not until you are against the railing that you realise you are trembling. Prince Irus reaches out, prying the dagger from your hand. You can only stare at him, too frozen in fright to speak.<<else>>"$name," Prince Irus calls, his eyes as wide as yours. When you do not move, he pulls at your arm, dragging you away from the chaos of the main deck. You cannot speak or think beyond the fear that grips you so tightly. When you are against the railing, Prince Irus turns to you. His mouth moves but you cannot hear his voice over the storm. He reaches out, slipping the dagger from your hand and pushing you behind him. It takes you a moment to realise that you are trembling, but the thought is lost as soon as your eyes take in the carnage around you.<</if>> There is little time to react when a woman with dark hair comes charging towards you and Prince Irus. Her rapier flashes, the glint of steel threatening. Prince Irus manages to shove you away as the blade strikes the space where you had been only moments ago. Your breathing is hard and laboured and you find that you can only stare uselessly as Prince Irus struggles to deflect the woman's blows with the small dagger. She grunts suddenly, slamming the side of her blade against Prince Irus' wrist. He yells out, his grip on the dagger faltering as the only weapon you had falls to the deck. <</if>> You stare at the woman, wide-eyed as more of her people join her in surrounding you. It does not take long for their arms to wrap around you and Prince Irus, their grip painful and too tight as they bind your arms with ropes and shove you to where Lord Redall has been bound. [[Next.|chp4_33]]

<<if $chp4_33 is 1>> "Please, let us go," you plead. "We are only trying to do what is right." Her hard eyes are on you suddenly and you try not to cower under her glare. Lips pulling up into something resembling an approximation of a smile, she steps closer to where you are bound. She stares at you and tilts her head to the side. "I think perhaps your people are a little naïve in their ideas about what is right. The Nomads live by a code and there is nothing wrong with that," she spits. "We take what is not owned by any, despite what your rulers might suggest. The deities gave us the freedom to take and take we shall." <<elseif $chp4_33 is 2>> "Why are you working for Virion? He will kill you when your use runs out," you reason. There is desperation in your voice, a hope that somehow their leader might see reason. Virion will use the Blood Guard to get what he wants and you doubt he has any plans on honouring his deal with the Nomad Tribes. The woman glances at you, her eyes hard as she draws closer. Reaching out, her fingers curl around your chin tightly and you struggle to pull away from her rough touch. "You think the Nomads fear that fool of a king?" she laughs. "He may command the Blood Guard but we outnumber them greatly. I do not fear what may come. We were promised land to take and we will take it, through rewards or blood." <<elseif $chp4_33 is 3>> "I will kill you all if you do not let us go," you yell. The moment your threat leaves your lips, you hear the futility in your voice. Desperation and anger, the pain of knowing that you are once agains trapped with nowhere to flee, fills you with a frustration that will not leave. Your threat draws the leader's attention and beneath the ire in her gaze, you catch a glimmer of amusement. "Feisty," she laughs, drawing closer. "You might have made a good member of the tribe, but it's a pity that you'll be killed." Her words send a shiver down your spine, but you do not let go of your vehemence. "Afraid to take me on?" you demand. "Is that why you've got me tied up?" She laughs openly now, mirth filling her gaze. "Your taunts will not work on me, foolish child. I am not so easily distracted from doing what must be done." <</if>> [[Next.|chp4_35]]

Her eyes shift to her followers, before she glances at Prince Irus. "His uncle wants him alive for now. Make sure he is not hurt too much or-" //Crash.// The barge groans loudly, the main deck suddenly tipping. You feel water slosh around you as the barge sways and crashes into the Nomad ship. A loud thump rings in your ears as a scream comes from the Nomad assailants. Someone else screams from behind you but you can barely tell who it came from. Your wrists burn against the chafing ropes and you struggle to pull away from the lurching deck. The Nomad leader yells out at something, no, at someone. Beside you, Prince Irus goes sprawling across the deck, the tilt of the barge causing most of the sailors and Lord Redall to slide across the wood. The Nomad leader's head slams into the deck, blood streaming freely down her forehead. She looks dazed, eyes glazed over and unfocused. Blood splatters along the floor in front of you. Your eyes widen as you finally notice her attacker. <<set $chp4_35 to 0>> [[It is Sir Oren.|chp4_36][$chp4_35 +=1]] [[It is Queen Elora.|chp4_36][$chp4_35 +=2]]

<<if $chp4_35 is 1>> Sir Oren stands behind the Nomad leader, his eyes narrowed and the pummel of his sword darkened with blood. His eyes find yours and then, notes Lord Redall and Prince Irus beside you. With a shout, he draws closer and cuts the ropes that bind you together. Behind Sir Oren, you catch a glimpse of Queen Elora. She wears leather armour and her eyes are wide, taking in the carnage around you. <<elseif $chp4_35 is 2>> Queen Elora stands behind the Nomad leader, her eyes wide and her breathing erratic. She wears leather armour, her head bare of her crown. A sword trembles in her grip but she quickly turns her attention onto you and the others who are still bound tightly by ropes. Hastily, she snaps the ropes with a flick of her blade, freeing you from the bindings. Behind her, you notice Sir Oren approaching. He wears heavy armour, his sword gleaming red as he strides to stand behind Queen Elora. <</if>> "Not that I'm not grateful for the help, but what are you doing here?" Lord Redall demands. "I'll explain later," Queen Elora answers. "The barge is sinking. We need to get away before we go down with it." There is hardly time to process everything that happens. Bodies slide into the sea, the roar of the storm deafening as you and Prince Irus are helped across to a warship that bears the crest of Vinia. Together, you huddle as you watch the surviving sailors and the assailants being ushered onto the deck, surrouned by members of the Royal Vinian Guard. [[Next.|chp4_37]]

It is not until much later, when the storm behind you is a distant rumble and Lord Redall's barge has been swallowed up by the sea that you finally have time to process everything that has happened. <<set $chp4_37 to 0>> [[You are trembling, unable to cope with the death you witnessed around you.|chp4_38][$chp4_37 +=1]] [[You are numb, your chest hollow and your mind silent.|chp4_38][$chp4_37 +=2]] [[Tears prickle at your eyes from the horrors you have endured.|chp4_38][$chp4_37 +=3]] [[Your hands ball into fists in frustation at being so helpless in the face of danger.|chp4_38][$chp4_37 +=4]] [[You fidget, nervous energy filling you as you pace uneasily.|chp4_38][$chp4_37 +=5]]

<<if $chp4_37 is 1>> You are trembling, unable to cope with the death you witnessed around you. The smell of blood still lingers like an invisible weight in your chest, and every breath feels like it might be your last. But most of all, you are cold. You shiver as though from a fever, and your hands shake uncontrollably. The deaths of Lord Redall's crew still lingers in your mind and no matter how hard you try, you cannot rid the images of their bodies sliding into the sea, their screams of anguish drowned out by the rumbling storm. It is hard to keep still, no matter how hard you try. Your teeth chatter and your fingers twitch, buring themselves in the material of your tunic. <<elseif $chp4_37 is 2>> You are numb, your chest hollow and your mind silent. The deaths you witnessed had been another stark reminder of the reason for your journey. Yet, as the memories of the screaming sailors and the scent of their blood lingers in the air, you only feel a coldness seep into your bones, numbing you until you can barely think. Perhaps you should be crying like the survivors or perhaps you should rage against the skies the way Lord Redall has, but all you can do is sit stiffly, unable to conjure up any form of emotion. You are exhausted. There has been too much death and too little time to process it. <<elseif $chp4_37 is 3>> Tears prickle at your eyes from the horrors you have endured. Your throat tightens around the sob that pushes to escape your lips, a tight well of pain and sorrow filling you. You gasp, your sob escaping and your tears burning as they trickle down your face. It is hard to live with knowledge that the sailors who died tonight, died because they were only trying to help Prince Irus. Your tears come unbidden, hot and stinging against your face as you struggle to breath through the cries that rack your body. Burying your face into the palms of your hands, you weep for those who have died tonight, knowing that their deaths are only the first of what is to come. <<elseif $chp4_37 is 4>> Your hands ball into fists in frustation at being so helpless in the face of danger. How much more are you expected to endure? When you set out with Prince Irus, you knew that there would be dangers and yet, you still found yourself at the mercy of your enemies. Anger fills you, a hot rage that bubbles in your blood and steals a frustrated yell from your lips. You cannot continue this way, a helpless fisherman's $heir that can do no more than struggle in the face of adversity. <<elseif $chp4_37 is 5>> You fidget, nervous energy filling you as you pace uneasily. Anxiety coils in your stomach, the familiar sting of bile rising against the back of your throat. You cannot keep still, your fingers twitching at your sides and your breathing coming out ragged. It is hard to think about what happened without wanting to run. The deaths of Lord Redall's crew has left a bitter taste in the back of your mouth, the knowledge that they died only because they had chosen to help you and Prince Irus. Your thoughts race through your mind, too fast for you to focus on them. You feel like a child again; unable to understand the severity of events and how their effects affect you. But then there is nothing else you can do except go over and over it all again in your head. <</if>> "$name." The voice ruptures your thoughts and you turn, catching the sight of Queen Elora. In the aftermath of the chaos, you quickly were ushered onto the warship that carried the Royal Vinian Guard to you. The young Queen looks as poorly as you feel, her hair in a disarray and her eyes red-tinged from lack of sleep. "We are all gathered inside," she murmurs. "Are you coming?" You manage a nod and follow Queen Elora into the captain's quarters. [[Next.|chp4_39]]

The room is spacious and nothing like the one on Lord Redall's barge. There is more room and the furniture is better crafted, though you suppose that there is no need to disguise the the ship as belonging to a trader when there are enough guards on board to dispatch your enemies. Queen Elora moves to sit against a low table. Beside her, Sir Oren stands on guard, his hazel eyes warming when they find yours. Prince Irus is sprawled against a small sofa to one side, his eyes staring at the ceiling above. Lord Redall is absent and at your questioning look, Sir Oren offers you an explanation. "Redall was injured," he says. "He'll be briefed after getting treatment." You nod, and move to take your place... <<set $chp4_position to 0>> [[...alongside Prince Irus.|chp4_40][$chp4_position +=1]] [[...next to Queen Elora.|chp4_40][$chp4_position +=2]] [[...beside Sir Oren.|chp4_40][$chp4_position +=3]]

<<if $chp4_position is 1>> You move to sit beside Prince Irus. He looks up at your approach, his blue eyes glimmering in the glow of the lanterns around you. His lips pull into a small smile, before it falls away as if suddenly reminded of the bloodshed you had witnessed. He shifts slightly, making room for you on the small sofa and you take a seat, suddenly grateful for the brief moment of calm. <<elseif $chp4_position is 2>> You make your way towards Queen Elora, taking in her tired expression. She does not look much like the ruler of a kingdom, but like a woman who has had to do too much in a short time. Glancing at your approach, she smiles softly at you, her dark eyes warming slightly. It is enough to soothe the thoughts in your mind and you lean against the table, grateful for the moment of calm. <<elseif $chp4_position is 3>> Sir Oren smiles softly as you make your way to stand beside him. He is still wearing his armour from before, though, he has sheathed his blade at his hip. There is a steadiness about Sir Oren that comforts you and soothes the racing thoughts in your mind. You let out a breath as you lean against the wall, suddenly grateful for the moment of calm. <</if>> "There is something you and Iri must know," Queen Elora breathes. "Virion has taken control of the city of Hadi." "What?" Prince Irus demands. "What do you mean?" <<if $kazan_support is true>> Queen Elora sighs, her expression weary. "Administrator Kazan left for Hadi shortly after you left for Ishari. He had his own guards and I suppose it was foolish to think that your uncle would not strike." She pauses. "He ambushed Kazan and took control of the city."<<else>> Queen Elora scowls. "Administrator Kazan betrayed us. As soon as you left for Ishari, he made his way back to Hadi and struck a deal with your uncle. He has sworn his allegience to Virion and allowed the Blood Guard into the city."<</if>> "What does this mean?" you ask. <<if $councillor_support lt 3>> "It means that if Kazan was swayed, the other councillors might throw their support behind Virion as well," Queen Elora responds. <<elseif $councillor_support is 3>> "While the other councillors are not so easily swayed by Virion's promises, I decided that I cannot take the risk of letting things stand as they were," Queen Elora explains.<</if>> "What about Vinia?" Prince Irus asks. "Your kingdom needs you, Ellie." Queen Elora waves his words away. "It has become clear that Vinia cannot remain neutral. My mother has taken charge of the kingdom while I have decided to travel to Ishari with you. You will have my support in securing the aid of Ishari." "Thank you," Prince Irus breathes. Sir Oren speaks then, his voice low and tired. "The war is inevitable, Your Highness. It is best you start preparing for it." [[Next.|chp4_41]]

There is nothing much to be said after that. Sir Oren's words linger in your mind, an unsettling weight against your chest. You managed to escape with your life today, but you cannot help but wonder if soon enough, you will be joining the sailors at the bottom of the sea. [[Next.|chp4_end]]

<<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "chp5" loop play>><div class="heading">Chapter Five</div><div class="borderstyle">p</div> <div class="timeline">Age of Aedes, Year 544, Spring</div> <center>[[Begin.|chp5_start]]</center> <center><<linkreplace "Trigger warnings." t8n>>Violence, vulgar language, warfare, implied torture, fictional religious discrimination, mention of blood, mentions of death and optional sexual content.<</linkreplace>></center>

You decide not to use any more accessories, though you keep your hair... <<set $hairstyle to "unknown">><<if $hairlong is "bald">> [[...covered in fine stubble, as your hair begins to regrow.|chp3_33][$hairstyle to "stubble"]] [[...smooth, with no sign of your hair.|chp3_33][$hairstyle to "smooth"]] <<else>> [[...straight and loose.|chp3_33][$hairstyle to "loose"]] [[...loosely curled.|chp3_33][$hairstyle to "loosely curled"]] [[...tightly curled.|chp3_33][$hairstyle to "tightly curled"]] [[...wavy and loose.|chp3_33][$hairstyle to "wavy"]] [[...braided tightly.|chp3_33][$hairstyle to "braided"]] [[...coiled.|chp3_33][$hairstyle to "coiled"]]<</if>>

<<set $location to "Somewhere at sea.">><div class="timeline">Somewhere at sea, aboard Her Majesty's Crescent.</div> Your eyes burn from the sting of the salt. Exhaustion grips you like the early days of your journey with Prince Irus. It has been a few days since Queen Elora found you and Prince Irus. With the delay of Lord Redall's barge being destroyed and making provision for those who were killed in the skirmish against the Nomad Tribe sailors, you have spent another week at sea. The deck constantly bobs beneath your feath, the sway of the sea endless as you voyage deeper into the waters of Ishari. You have not had much sleep after your rescue, though you were relieved to learn that the fatalities of Lord Redall's crew did not extend to Crown. For the most part, you have... <<set $chp5_start to 0>> [[...abhored your journey at sea. You cannot wait to be on dry land again.|chp5_1][$chp5_start +=1]] [[...longed to return to dry land, for the thought of the dead sailors weigh heavily on your conscience.|chp5_1][$chp5_start +=2]] [[...come to respect the ferocity of the sea, for its nature reminds you to keep guard against the enemy.|chp5_1][$chp5_start +=3]] [[...been filled with numbness, the weight of the events too much to process.|chp5_1][$chp5_start +=4]] [[...felt the urge to punch something as rage consumes you at your hopelessness.|chp5_1][$chp5_start +=5]]

<<if $chp5_start is 1>> The constant swaying of the ship and the sting of salt has made you long for dry land again. You cannot wait to be off this ship, even if it means that you will be returning to Ishari. The only consolation you have is that it seems that you are not alone in your dislike for the sea. Sir Oren has not complained outwardly about the voyage, though you have noticed that his face is often twisted as if he is uneasy. You can only hope that the journey does not take too long, for you do not think that you can spend another week at sea with only signs of distant islands to keep you from going mad. <<elseif $chp5_start is 2>> After boarding Queen Elora's ship, Lord Redall had organised for a small ritual for the sailors that had been killed and lost at sea. You were surprised when he offered words of prayers for the Nomad Tribe's sailors and when he caught you staring at him, he shrugged and only offered you a sad smile. You think about the dead sailors constantly, knowing that they put their lives at risk to help Prince Irus and you sail to Ishari. None of them deserved death and it is a bitter feeling knowing that were it not for Virion and the Blood Guard, they would not have died trying to keep Prince Irus and you safe. <<elseif $chp5_start is 3>> For the first part of your voyage, the sea had been mostly calm. It was not unusual for you to respect the sea. When you were younger and Ahlf had taken you fishing, you had learnt to tell the changing of tides and the telltale signs of a thunderstorm. You knew that the smoothness of the sea was only a facade for at any moment, it could turn vicious, swallowing everything that was foolish enough to stray into its path. You had not expected Virion to enlist the aid of the Nomad Tribe and you had not expected for them to have been so efficient in finding you and Prince Irus. Perhaps it was the reminder you needed that you cannot expect complacency from those who would rather see you dead. <<elseif $chp5_start is 4>> There is something to be said about the hollowed out feeling inside your chest. You have witnessed a few of the sailors - the remaining crew of Lord Redall's barge - weeping for their lost crewmates. Lord Redall in turn has only seemed to become infuriated by the attack. Yet, no matter how much time has passed, you find it difficult to feel //anything//. You are numb and shrivelled, the feelings that you are supposed to feel, absent in the aftermath of the attack. It is difficult to know why you do not feel anything or if it is a normal response to the death you have seen, you can only hope that it is not a concern for something far more worrying. <<elseif $chp5_start is 5>> Witnessing the sailors of Lord Redall's barge being killed had left you raging for days on end. Even now, as you stare at the sea, it is hard not to scream out at the madness of it all. Virion had no qualms in ordering that those around you be killed, no matter their innocence and no matter that they did not deserve to be tossed into the sea. Your fingers dig into your palms, nails biting into your skin as you struggle to maintain your composure. In the aftermath of the attack, you could only think of one thing - your hopelessness in the face of the enemy. <</if>> "$name." Your name pulls you away from your thoughts and you turn, finding Lord Redall standing before you. His right arm has been set in a makeshift sling, an injury from the night of the attack. Despite his injury, he has recovered well after what happened. "We are interrogating the leader of the Nomad Tribe's ship," he explains. "I thought you might want to be present, considering what happened." You are uncertain what to feel at the prospect at facing the woman who had boarded the deck of Lord Redall's barge that night, though you know that she will have answers that Prince Irus will need if he is ever to defeat his uncle. Releasing a breath, you offer Lord Redall a nod and follow him below deck. [[Next.|chp5_2]]

The leader is housed in the ship's brig, a cramped space that is dark and smells stale. You blink as your eyes adjust to the dimness of the small cell and you find that Prince Irus is already there, with Sir Oren beside him. Sir Oren nods at Lord Redall and then to you. But your attention shifts to Prince Irus, noticing the warring emotions in his expression. There is rage, horror and something akin to grief that flickers through his blue eyes. "Have you started yet?" Lord Redall asks. Sir Oren shakes his head. "We waited for you." Nodding, Lord Redal moved to stand beside Sir Oren, his eyes on the woman in the cell. Your gaze follows his and you find the leader of the Nomad Tribe ship, her face bruised and her eyes narrowed as she regards your group. You mistook her hair as being black when you first met, the storm enough to blur her features. But as you stare at her now, you realise that between the grey is a shock of auburn, nearly black in its darkness. "What's her name?" Lord Redall questioned. "Lena," Sir Oren answered. "That's all we managed to get from her." <<if $chp2_letter is 2>> //Lena.// The name is familiar to you, a niggling thought in the back of your mind.<<elseif $chp3_24_letters is 3>>//Lena.// The name is familiar to you, a niggling thought in the back of your mind.<<elseif $chp2_letter is 2 and $chp3_24_letters is 3>>Lena. The name is so familiar as if you reach out, you could grasp its meaning.<</if>> "Give me a chance and I'll be certain to make her speak," Lord Redall spits. [[Next.|chp5_3]]

"Why did you attack us?" Lord Redall demands. "You killed innocent sailors and destroyed my barge, all for what, land?" Lena stares at Lord Redall, an impassive expression on her face. She shrugs. "I wouldn't expect a rich lordling like you to understand." Her eyes narrow as she glances at Prince Irus. "Neither of you could ever understand what this war means for the rest of us who want nothing to do with it." "Nothing?" Lord Redall laughs. "You chose to side with Virion. You are a part of this war, whether you like it or not." Lord Redall's words are laced with fury and Sir Oren must see something in his friend's face because he draws Lord Redall back, his grip tight on his elbow. "Redall, calm down." "I will not calm down. This woman is responsible for the deaths of my crew. She needs to be-" But his words are cut off as Sir Oren drags Lord Redall away from the brig. You can still hear his voice, gruff and loud as Sir Oren mumbles softly. For a moment, you can only stand there, quiet when Prince Irus finally speaks. "My uncle promised you land," he breathes. "But he will not keep his word. He has never seen the Nomad Tribes as anything more than barbaric." "And you think I will be swayed by your words?" Lena laughs. "Pathetic." Her eyes slide onto you. "What about you, got anything better than this fool?" <<set $chp5_3 to 0>> <<if $politics gte 60>>[[You scan her face, realising with a start that she does not intend on allying with Prince Irus.|chp5_4][$chp5_3 +=1]]<</if>> [["You are making a grave mistake," you murmur. "Why would you side with a man who is eager to harm innocent lives?"|chp5_4][$chp5_3 +=3]] [["Is it about wanting land or because of pride?" you snarl.|chp5_4][$chp5_3 +=4]] <<if $chp2_letter is 2>> [["Lena... why does your name sound so familiar?" you wonder.|chp5_4][$chp5_3 +=5]] <<elseif $chp3_24_letters is 3>> [["Lena... why does your name sound so familiar?" you wonder.|chp5_4][$chp5_3 +=5]] <<elseif $chp2_letter is 2 and $chp3_24_letters is 3>> [["Lena... why does your name sound so familiar?" you wonder.|chp5_4][$chp5_3 +=5]] <<if $blades gte 60>> [[It does not make sense that this woman who was so eager to kill you would now want to bargain with you. She is obviously wasting your time.|chp5_4][$chp5_3 +=2]]<</if>> <</if>>

<<if $chp5_3 is 1>> She is lying, you realise. It is in the way her eyes track your movements, cunning like a viper about to strike. For a moment, you cannot deny that you are wasting your time trying to win Lena's trust. It is clear that she has sided with Virion. "You do not intend on allying with us," you state. Lena raises her eyebrows, her eyes appraising as she glances at you. "Perhaps I misjudged you too soon." Prince Irus frowns, drawing closer. "Why work for my uncle? Are you so content with siding with the Blood Guard?" At the mention of the Blood Guard, Lena's mouth twists and she spits at the floor. You stare at the glob of spittle, before returning your attention to her face. There is anger in her gaze, a look of fury that reminds you of the way Lord Redall looked when he yelled at her before. "Do not speak to me about the Blood Guard as if your hands are clean in this," Lena hisses. "I have no love for the abomination your father created, //Your Highness//." "Then why side with my uncle?" Prince Irus demands. "He has only killed in his rise to power." Lena shrugs. "I do not care what happens to anyone but my people. Your words will not sway me." <<elseif $chp5_3 is 2>> You stare at Lena's face, taking in the slight defiance in her eyes and the hatred in her expression. It would be foolish to think that she would be willing to ally with Prince Irus against his uncle, not when she committed to her attack against Lord Redall's crew all those nights ago. "Why pretend to bargain with us when you have no intention on doing so?" you demand. Lena blinks, perhaps surprised by your words. A moment passes and a flicker of a grin pulls at the corner of her lips, curling with animosity. "You must think highly of yourself," she spits. "To think that I would ever work with the likes of that bastard." Her words are directed at Prince Irus, laced with venom as she casts him a withering look. You frown, staring at Lena and the way she carries herself. She must be a hardened warrior for she seems unbothered by her injuries and her eyes constantly dart around her cell, as if she is formulating an escape. "You sound as if you would fit in well with the Blood Guard," you mutter. At the mention of the Blood Guard, Lena's mouth twists into a scowl. "Do not speak the name of those monsters to me." <<elseif $chp5_3 is 3>> "You are making a grave mistake," you murmur. "Why would you side with a man who is eager to harm innocent lives?" Lena huffs at your words, rolling her eyes as she turns away from your stare. Instead, she glances at Prince Irus, as if daring him to speak. Beside you, Prince Irus stiffens and you notice the way his hands curl into fists at his sides. "What about you then?" she asks. "You're so desperate for support and yet, you're no better than your //father//." "That's not true," Prince Irus snaps, scowling at Lena. "I am nothing like him." Lena chuckles, her eyes shifting onto you. "This is the great Prince Irus and his group of allies? I wonder what your uncle must see in you to want you dead because all I see is a group of frightened children, pretending to know what war is." You stride forward. "I know that war will only cause the deaths of many who do not deserve it. Why would you choose to ally with Virion when you know that he will turn on you the moment he gets the opportunity?" Lena scoffs. "I am doing what must be done for my people. I doubt you could understand." <<elseif $chp5_3 is 4>> "Is it about wanting land or because of pride?" you snarl. Your tone seems to catch Lena by surprise, though it does not last long. She grins, a wicked smile that is all teeth and gums as she glares at you from her cell. "What would you know about pride?" she demands. "Here you are, running around with an exiled prince - the son of a man who caused so much rife to everyone." "Prince Irus is not the same," you retort. "Isn't he?" Lena laughs. "Look at the boy, a spitting image of his father and worse, he is far weaker than that dead fool." "That's enough," Prince Irus snaps. His eyes narrow. "I will not stand here while you compare me to my father. I am doing what is right." "Oh?" Lena replies. "Those were the same words he used when he attacked Ishari. Careful, //Your Highness//, or soon you too will be joining him in death." <<elseif $chp5_3 is 5>> "Lena... why does your name sound so familiar?" you wonder. Your question seems to draw the woman's attention to you for a moment, her eyes narrowing as she takes in your appearance. It feels as if she is assessing you, though for what, you cannot tell. Her eyes shift over your clothes to your face, before she settles on your eyes. "I do not know you," she replies. "But my name is not an uncommon one. There are many who bear my name." You shake your head. "No. That is not it. I remember it from somewhere." "$name?" Prince Irus asks. "Are you sure that you know this woman?" And then it comes to you, a memory unlocked as you remember the letters your father gave you. You remember the sender, a woman who once worked alongside your father in the Blood Guard. Staring at Lena across from you, you find it hard to breathe. If she is truly the same woman from the Blood Guard then she must have known your father. "Did you know a man named Ahlf?" you ask. Lena's eyes widen and suddenly she is pressing against the bars of her cell, her eyes wild as she stares at you. "How do you know Ahlf? Who are you?" Her reaction is enough of an answer. This Lena must be the same woman from your father's letters. "Ahlf is... //was// my father," you mumble. Lena blinks, confusion filling her features. "That cannot be true. Ahlf's $heir lived in Ishari. You cannot be Ahlf's $heir." "You wrote him letters," you murmur. "When he was the General of the Blood Guard." Lena shakes her head, looking down at her hands. "No. But... I do not understand. Where is Ahlf now?" It is your turn to look away. "He's dead. The Blood Guard destroyed everything." <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_5]]

As the silence begins to weigh heavily, Prince Irus steps forward, his blue eyes on Lena. "How many of you are there?" he asks. Lena frowns. "Too many for your mind to comprehend. The Nomad Tribes are not the same as a kingdom. There is no one true leader and no ownership. We take because it belongs to all." "Do you speak for all the tribes when you say that you will not ally with me?" he questions. Lena laughs. "Did you not listen? We are many tribes. If you want our aid, you should have come to our council of chieftains like your uncle and struck a deal. Now, my people fight for your uncle. Nothing you say will change their minds." Prince Irus lets out a breath, glancing at you. "If she speaks the truth, it will be difficult to go against my uncle." You glance at Lena, watching as she stares at you and Prince Irus. If there is any way to win her trust, you will need to do it now. <<set $chp5_5 to 0>> [["If we allow you to wander the ship freely, will that prove to you that we can be trusted?" you ask.|chp5_6][$chp5_5 +=1]] [["We cannot let you free, not after what you have done but I can assure you that you will be treated fairly," you state.|chp5_6][$chp5_5 +=2]] [["As you said, you do not speak for all of your people. We will seek aid from your council," you explain.|chp5_6][$chp5_5 +=3]] <<if $chp5_3 is 5>> [["Will you not help us, out of your friendship with my father?" you ask.|chp5_6][$chp5_5 +=4, $lena_trust +=10]]<</if>>

<<if $chp5_5 is 1>> "If we allow you to wander the ship freely, will that prove to you that we can be trusted?" you ask. Your suggestion catches both Prince Irus and Lena by surprise. Prince Irus turns to you with wide eyes, pulling you by your elbow so that Lena cannot overhear him. "Have you lost your senses? She is responsible for attacking us. We cannot let her walk free," he hisses. "You need allies and Lena can help with winning the aid of the Nomad Tribes. If your uncle is truly working with them, it would hamper his cause greatly if they were to shift their alliance to you." <<if $irusRel gte 60>> Prince Irus lets out a breath, his eyes softening. "Very well, I will trust you on this. But you will need to explain this decision to Redall." You smile in response. "Thank you, Irus. I promise that this is the right decision." Returning your gaze to Lena, you watch as she scans your expression, perhaps searching for deceit. When she finds none, her shoulders relax slightly. "If you are serious about this then I will consider an offer of trust with you," Lena murmurs. "I do not speak for the rest of the Nomad Tribes, but my word will hold sway with them." Prince Irus sighs. "Very well, we will have you released."<<set $lena_trust +=10>><<set $lena_free to true>> <<else>> Prince Irus' expression hardens and he shakes his head. "No, I will not allow this." "I did not ask for your permission," you respond. "This is not simply your decision to make, $name," Prince Irus retorts. "Redall will be furious to learn that you evn suggested it. No, Lena will remain a prisoner." You return your attention to Lena but it is clear that she has already surmised her outcome. With a derisive snort, she glances at Prince Irus. "And you still think that you are any different from your father?" she snorts. "I wonder how long you will last when the time comes against your uncle." Prince Irus' jaw clenches, but he remains silent.<</if>> <<elseif $chp5_5 is 2>> "We cannot let you free, not after what you have done but I can assure you that you will be treated fairly," you state. Lena scoffs, settling against the wall of her cell. She stares at you and then glances at Prince Irus. "You think I will be treated fairly? Your lordling has already made his mind up about what to do with me." "That is not true," you respond, though Lord Redall's earlier outburst lingers in your mind. "You have my word that-" "Your word, is it?" Lena asks, scowling. "I do not trust your word nor do I trust the words of an exiled prince." Prince Irus frowns. "You killed innocent members of Lord Redall's crew. How can you expect us to trust you?" "And what about my crew?" Lena demands. "They too had families and lives. No. I do not want your pretty assurances." "Then you will receive nothing from us," Prince Irus replies. Lena shrugs. "It is as it has always been, //Your Highness//." <<elseif $chp5_5 is 3>> "As you said, you do not speak for all of your people. We will seek aid from your council," you explain. Lena raises an eyebrow at you. "And do you think that they will simply choose to help an exiled prince?" Prince Irus frowns. "If my uncle can strike an alliance with your people then I certainly can try." A laugh escapes Lena, full of derision. "You can //try// but it will be futile. Unless you can offer us what we have always asked for, you will never be able to win the aid of the Nomad Tribes." "You want land," you state. "So that is what Prince Irus will offer." "Land? What land?" Lena asks. "Virion rules Cyre. He owns the land, not you or this prince." A sigh escapes Prince Irus and he looks away, frowing at Lena's words. No matter what she might say, you know that you cannot simply sit around and discuss an alliance deal with Lena. It is evident that she will not agree to one, not with Prince Irus. <<elseif $chp5_5 is 4>> "Will you not help us, out of your friendship with my father?" you ask. Lena seems stunned by your words and a moment of hesitation flickers through her expression. She glances away, staring at the floor of her cell. Seconds pass and you begin to fear that your appeal has gone unheard. But when she speaks, her voice is low as if she is pained. "Your father was dear to me, it is true," Lena breathes. "He knew better than to remain with the Blood Guard, even after he was found." "Found?" you ask, frowning. "What do you mean?" "It is not important," Lena replies. "I cannot simply offer you allegience out of a friendship with your father." You begin to protest but Lena shakes her head, silencing you. "I will consider it," she murmurs. "Out of my fondness for Ahlf, if nothing else." <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_7]]

There is little left to be said to Lena and with a final glance at her, you step out of the brig with Prince Irus. Lord Redall is nowhere in sight and you realise that Sir Oren must have led him away from the brig while you and Prince Irus continued to speak with Lena. <<if $lena_free is true>>You will need to explain to Sir Oren that you and Prince Irus have chosen to free Lena from her cell. Only time will tell if it was the right decision.<</if>> As you head towards the main deck of the ship, Prince Irus pauses beside you. You turn, glancing at him and find him gazing at his hands. He must sense your stare because he turns to regard you, a mixture of emotions warring in his gaze. "Do you think that Lena was right?" he asks. "Am I like my father?" <<set $chp5_7 to 0>> [["Of course not," you reassure, smiling at him. "I know that you are a good man, Irus."|chp5_8][$irusRel +=5, $chp5_7 +=1]] [["You are nothing like your father," you respond, frowning at the question.|chp5_8][$chp5_7 +=2, $irusRel +=5]] [["I do not have time for your self-doubt," you snap. "You need to stop worrying about things you cannot control and start focussing on things that will help you reclaim the throne."|chp5_8][$chp5_7 +=3, $irusRel -=3]] <<if $irus_lock is true>> [[♡"You are a good man, Irus," you breathe. "And a kind one at that. Do not let Lena's words affect you for she does not know you like I do."|chp5_8][$chp5_7 +=4, $irusRel +=5, $irusRom +=5]] [[♡"Of course not," you tease. "You are far more handsome."|chp5_8][$chp5_7 +=5, $irusRel +=5, $irusRom +=5]]<</if>>

<<if $chp5_7 is 1>> "Of course not," you reassure, smiling at him. "I know that you are a good man, Irus." Prince Irus pauses, his eyes softening at your words. A small smile flickers across his lips and for a moment he looks younger, as if a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. Prince Irus glances away as he walks alongside you. "Thank you for saying that," he murmurs. "I worry that I will become like him at times." "You are nothing like your father," you respond. "You do not hold the same opinions as he did towards Ishari and that is a good start." Prince Irus nods, smiling fully now. "You are right. Thank you, $name." <<elseif $chp5_7 is 2>> "You are nothing like your father," you respond, frowning at the question. Perhaps, if you have not spent enough time with Prince Irus in your journey, you might have harboured the same thoughts as Lena. After all, Prince Irus must have been influenced by his father growing up, much like your own upbringing was influenced by Ahlf. It is difficult to separate the teachings of a parent from the person you become, but you believe that Prince Irus has managed to do so. "Thank you," Prince Irus breathes. His shoulders sag, the tension leaving his expression. "I fear that I might end up becoming like my father, the longer we continue on this journey." "As long as you do not allow yourself to become swayed by your father's opinions on Ishari, you will not become like him," you reply. Prince Irus nods, smiling softly at you. "Thank you, $name." <<elseif $chp5_7 is 3>> "I do not have time for your self-doubt," you snap. "You need to stop worrying about things you cannot control and start focussing on things that will help you reclaim the throne." Your words are curt, coming out roughly as you turn to face Prince Irus. He must not have expected the hardness in your voice because he frowns, glancing away from your gaze. Prince Irus cannot expect to be coddled at every step of your journey. You have had to endure the same hardships as he and you will not indulge in his doubt. "You need not be so cruel," Prince Irus mutters. "I am only telling you what you need to hear," you snap. "If Lena thinks you are like your father, standing around and discussing it will not change her mind. You must prove to everyone, including those in Ishari that you are worthy of their aid." Prince Irus frowns as he turns away from your stare. "I know that. I was only looking for-" "Reassurance," you interrupt. "And you will get none from me." <<elseif $chp5_7 is 4>> "You are a good man, Irus," you breathe. "And a kind one at that. Do not let Lena's words affect you for she does not know you like I do." Your voice is soft in the dimness below deck. For a moment, Prince Irus turns and gazes at you, the irises of his eyes darker than its usual blue. He steps closer, close enough that you can smell the sea spray in his tunic and feel the heat of his form against your skin before he reaches out and cups your chin in his grasp. "You spoil me, $name," Prince Irus breathes. His words send a shudder down your spine. "I do not know what I would do without you." "You are capable of anything, Irus," you murmur. "You only need to believe in yourself the way I do." Prince Irus lets out a sharp breath, drawing you into his arms. His chest is solid, a warm weight against you as he presses a soft peck against the side of your face. "Thank you, $name," he whispers. "Perhaps I will take your advice, after all." <<elseif $chp5_7 is 5>> "Of course not," you tease. "You are far more handsome." Your words are light, mest to be a jest and yet, the way Prince Irus looks at you nearly causes your breath to lodge in the back of your throat. It is the way his eyes take in your appearance and the way he steps closer, as if pulled by an invisible thread towards you. You feel your heartbeat thud loudly, blood rushing past your ears as he reaches out to run his fingers along your chin. "Is that so?" he asks. "And what else do you think?" Your pulse quickens as Prince Irus stares at you, heat pooling in your gut at the way his fingers graze your skin lightly. "I think many things," you murmur. "But it would be no fun if I told you my thoughts all at once." Prince Irus' lips tug up into a smirk. "What if I offered you my thoughts in return? Would that satisfy you?" "Just your thoughts?" you ask, the words out of your mouth before you can think it through. Something hungry passes through Prince Irus' eyes and he grins at you. "Do not jest about something like this, $name. After all, I might take you up on the offer." You cannot help the smile that slips over your lips. "See, you are nothing at all like your father. I do not think he would have flirted so openly with someone with Ishari blood." Prince Irus huffs out a laugh. "No, he would not have." He withdraws his hand, grinning at you. "Thank you, $name." <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_9]]

The salty air greets you as you emerge onto the main deck alongside Prince Irus. Unlike Lord Redall's barge, none of the crew pretend at being traders. The sailors all wear the insignia of the Royal Vinian Guard and they each have blades fastened at their hips. Prince Irus lets out a tired breath, glancing at you. <<if $lena_free is false>> "I should go and prepare for our arrival in Ishari," he explains. "Ellie has brought a few treaties that she thinks would work in securing an alliance." <<else>> "I should notify the guards about Lena," Prince Irus sighs. "They will be unhappy about seeing her walking about freely, but I think it is the right decision."<</if>> You nod at Prince Irus, watching as he takes his leave from you. Returning your attention back to the main deck, you spot Sir Oren leaning over the side of the railing. A metal bucket lies discarded at his feet and you wonder if his unease at being on the swaying ship has finally taken its toll on him. On the other side of the ship, you spot Queen Elora, dressed in trousers and a flattering coat, as she peers up at the mast in interest. <<set $chp5_9_oren to false>><<set $chp5_9_elora to false>> [[You check on Sir Oren.|chp5_10a][$chp5_9_oren to true]] [[You stroll towards Queen Elora.|chp5_10b][$chp5_9_elora to true]] [[You decide no to talk to anyone.|chp5_11]]

As you approach Sir Oren, you become aware of his ashen face and the twist in his mouth. A stale, sour smell reaches your nose and you frown when you realise that the bucket at his feet is not nearly as empty as you first thought. Sir Oren barely spares you a glance, his fingers curled around the wooden railing of the deck. He groans, rubbing his forehead as the deck lurches beneath your feet. <<set $chp5_10a to 0>> [["Are you alright?" you ask in concern.|chp5_10a1][$chp5_10a +=1, $orenRel +=5]] [["You are seasick?" you question, curious.|chp5_10a1][$chp5_10a +=2]] [["Do not retch on my shoes," you huff, wrinkling your nose.|chp5_10a1][$chp5_10a +=3, $orenRel -=5]] [[♡Your chest tightens at the sight of Sir Oren's suffering.|chp5_10a1][$chp5_10a +=4, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5, $shy_oren +=5]] [[♡"You poor thing," you coo. "Perhaps I can distract you long enough from feeling unwell?"|chp5_10a1][$chp5_10a +=5, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5, $bold_oren +=5]]

As you approach Queen Elora, you note that her thick hair has been plaited loosely and the circlet that she normally would wear is absent. Her eyebrows are furrowed as she stares up at the main mast of the sip. You follow her gaze, noting the crow's nest at the top, a circular structure that overlooks the rest of the sea. "$name," Queen Elora says, without looking at you. "Do you think that it would be appropriate for a queen to climb to the crow's nest?" Her question takes you by surprise and when she turns to glance at you, you notice the slight smirk on her lips. During your voyage, you have discovered that the young queen has been freer than she has ever been in Vinia, almost the same as she had been when she joined you and Zikar in the Ishari District. She stares at you and you realise that her question was a genuine one. <<set $chp5_10b to 0>> [["Not at all," you laugh. "But who is to stop you out here at sea?"|chp5_10b1][$chp5_10b +=1, $eloraRel +=5]] [["It seems more dangerous than it does inappropriate," you murmur, staring at the tall mast.|chp5_10b1][$chp5_10b +=2]] [["Of course it is inappropriate," you huff. "You are a ruler, not a common sailor. How can you inspire your guards if you are acting no better than them?"|chp5_10b1][$chp5_10b +=3, $eloraRel -=5]] [[♡"I will support you no matter what you choose to do, regardless of propriety," you breathe.|chp5_10b1][$chp5_10b +=4, $eloraRel +=5, $eloraRom +=5, $shy_elora +=5]] [[♡"How marvelously inappropriate," you tease. "Perhaps we can do some other inappropriate things up in the crow's nest?"|chp5_10b1][$chp5_10b +=5, $eloraRom +=5, $eloraRel +=5, $bold_elora +=5]]

<<if $chp5_10a is 1>> "Are you alright?" you ask in concern. Sir Oren startles at the sound of your voice, his hazel eyes darting towards you. He offers you a watery smile, before speaking. "I am well enough," he mumbles. "Being at sea does not quite agree with me." You nod in understanding. When you were younger, you had seen many become afflicted with illness from being out at sea. You were fortunate enough to escape a similar fate, though it does not stop the swell of pity that fills you at the sight of Sir Oren's unease. "Do you not have any teas to soothe your stomach?" you ask. Sir Oren sighs, "Ginger sweets. But they are not helping today. Redall usually has a trick to stop the illness but I am afraid he is still too angry after confronting the prisoner to help." [[Next.|chp5_10a2]] <<elseif $chp5_10a is 2>> "You are seasick?" you question, curious. Sir Oren looks up, seemingly caught off-guard at your sudden appearance beside him. He frowns, gripping his stomach before he speaks in a hoarse voice. "Ah yes," he breathes. "It is an unfortunate thing because I do enjoy looking at the sea." You dare not peer over the railing, wondering if Sir Oren's enjoyment of looking at the sea also entails retching into it. Instead, you focus your attention on Sir Oren's expression, noting the way his lips twist into a frown. "Perhaps you should rest inside," you suggest. "It does not help," Sir Oren groans. "Redall often has a remedy for this illness, but I fear he is still angry after confronting the prisoner." [[Next.|chp5_10a2]] <<elseif $chp5_10a is 3>> "Do not retch on my shoes," you huff, wrinkling your nose. Sir Oren stiffens at your voice, suddenly noticing you at his side. His expression is pinched and he clutches at his stomach, as if he is about to retch. You make a face and take a few steps backwards, afraid that he will take your words to heart. "I will try not to," Sir Oren grumbles. You frown. "I thought a Guard Captain should be stronger than to let a little sea water get to him." Sir Oren's lips pull into a scowl. "If you have come here to mock me then I suggest you leave, $name. I am in no mood for your taunts, today." You roll your eyes. "Very well. I hope you do not tip over the railing." Turning away, you escape the experience of having to witness Sir Oren retch into the sea behind you. [[Next.|chp5_10_landing]] <<elseif $chp5_10a is 4>> Your chest tightens at the sight of Sir Oren's suffering. Without thinking, you reach out to rub his back. Sir Oren tenses at your touch, his eyes darting towards you in surprise. He blinks, realising that it is only you and his shoulders relax. "$name," he mumbles. "I am sorry, I did not see you." You offer him a soft smile. "It is alright. How are you feeling?" He makes a face. "Unwell. The sea has never been a friend to me growing up." It is strange to see Sir Oren, often so capable and strong, now at the mercy of the currents beneath the ship. The deck rocks again and Sir Oren quickly turns, his eyes squeezing tight against the movement. He leans over the railing, though a moment passes and he does not retch. "I am afraid I am not the best for company," Sir Oren breathes. "Redall normally would help, but he is still fuming over what happened with the prisoner." [[Next.|chp5_10a2]] <<elseif $chp5_10a is 5>> "You poor thing," you coo. "Perhaps I can distract you long enough from feeling unwell?" Your words elicit a sharp sound from Sir Oren and you fear that it might be the contents of his stomach being expelled into the sea, but he turns to regard you, his eyes wide and his face slightly red. He looks ill, his fingers tightening around the railing of the deck. "$name," he blurts. "I did not... I am sorry for not noticing you earlier." You chuckle, joining him against the railing of the ship. "It is alright, Captain. So long as you notice me now." He blinks, opening his mouth to respond before closing it. Leaning over the railing, he grumbles under his breath, eyes closed. You frown, your chest tightening at the sight of his suffering and you reach out to grip his wrist. "Perhaps you should rest in your quarters," you murmur. "It does not help," Sir Oren sighs. "Redall promised to share his remedies with me, but he is still fuming after the confrontation with the prisoner." [[Next.|chp5_10a2]] <</if>>

The deck of the ship sways under your feet. You take a moment to gaze out the the sailors who help with the rigs and those who remain alert for any signs of threats. You cannot deny that being surrouned by the Royal Vinian Guard has put you more at ease. Even if there is another attack, you are certain that this time, you will be prepared. As you survey the deck ahead of you, you decide to... <<if $chp5_9_oren is false>> [[...check on Sir Oren.|chp5_10a][$chp5_9_oren to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp5_9_elora is false>> [[...stroll towards Queen Elora.|chp5_10b][$chp5_9_elora to true]]<</if>> [[...relax until your arrival in Ishari.|chp5_11]]

You stare at Sir Oren with slight pity. He is clearly doing his best to speak to you, despite feeling unwell. You wonder if you should let him be in peace, for there is hardly anything you can do to quell the unease he feels. <<set $chp5_10a2 to 0>> [["I will leave you be," you murmur softly.|chp5_10a3][$chp5_10a2 +=1]] [[You remember a remedy from your childhood and suggest it to Sir Oren.|chp5_10a3][$chp5_10a2 +=2, $orenRel +=5]] [[♡Reaching out, you gently massage Sir Oren's brow.|chp5_10a3][$chp5_10a2 +=3, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5]] <<if $irus_lock is false>> [[♡Leaning over, you press a soft kiss onto his cheek to comfort him.|chp5_10a3][$chp5_10a2 +=4, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5]]<</if>>

<<if $chp5_10a2 is 1>> "I will leave you be," you murmur softly. Sir Oren frowns, almost as if to protest but then thinks better of it when he dry heaves over the railing. You grimace, a surge of sympathy at the sight of his suffering but knowing that you not help by standing around and talking to him. Groaning, Sir Oren casts you a small smile. "Yes, I think that would be best, $name. I am sorry we could not talk more." You nod in response and turn away, leaving Sir Oren to deal with his seasickness alone. His retching does not go unnoticed by the sailors around you, though you know that none are brave enough to venture too closer to him. <<elseif $chp5_10a2 is 2>> "Have you tried curling your left hand into a fist?" you ask. Sir Oren glances at you, frowning in confusion. "I do not understand." You reach out and bring his left hand into a fist, pressing his thumb into his palm. Sir Oren watches you silently, though you suspect it is more from trying to keep the contents of his stomach in than it is from lack of questions. "Squeeze your fist tightly around your thumb," you instruct. "It should help soothe the urge to retch." Sir Oren sighs, but does as you say. You watch his face, noting the tired expression in his eyes. A moment passes and then another. Sir Oren glances at you in surprise. "It has not quelled the feeling, but it is much better," Sir Oren murmurs. "Thank you, $name." You shrug, offering him a smile. "When you grow up with a fisherman for a father, you pick up a few things." Sir Oren smiles softly. "Thank you. Perhaps it will help until Redall can bring me some of those teas he promised." "Then I shall let you rest," you respond. "Do try to take it easy, Sir Oren." He nods at you and you turn away from Sir Oren, glad that you could have helped him with his seasickness. <<elseif $chp5_10a2 is 3>> Reaching out, you gently massage Sir Oren's brow. Your touch seems to surprise Sir Oren and his hazel eyes widen at your nearness. For a moment, it seems as if he is about to protest your proximity but as you press the pads of your fingers against the heated flush of his brow, he lets out a tired breath. "That feels nice," Sir Oren murmurs. "Thank you, $name." His voice is low, a soft sound that draws you closer, seeking out his warmth. A small smile pulls at the corners of your lips, watching as Sir Oren leans into your touch. He hums softly in response and the vibrations move through the tips of your fingers, down your arms until they reach your stomach where they curl into a knot. Your face blossoms with warmth and you stare at Sir Oren, wanting to memorise his soft expression. The knowledge that you are the cause of it is enough to send a tingle down your spine and the knot in your stomach begins to unwind and untwist until it it squirming inside you. Sir Oren is the first to draw away, his eyes filled with affection as he gazes at you. He reaches out, clutching your hand in his, the skin of his palm rough against yours. "Were I feeling better, I might be tempted to do more." His words cause your eyes to widen. You are accustomed to Sir Oren's hesitation, but his boldness takes you off-guard. It is enough to elicit a soft smile from his lips and he withdraws. "I fear that my stomach is still uneasy, $name," he breathes. "As much as I would enjoy spending time with you, I would make for poor company. Perhaps we can speak more when I am feeling better?" You manage a nod, warmed at the thought of spending more time with Sir Oren as you turn away from him. <<elseif $chp5_10a2 is 4>> Leaning over, you press a soft kiss onto his cheek to comfort him. The kiss is barely a peck, a slight graze against the scratchiness of Sir Oren's beard. He stiffens against your touch, turning to stare at you with wide eyes. Reaching out, he touches the side of his face where you kissed before glancing at you with softness. "$name," he murmurs. "You should not have... I mean to say that I am..." He gestures at the bucket and the sea. "You should have waited until I am in better condition." His response elicits a laugh from you and you stare at him with fondness. You shift closer, so that you can feel the heat of his body, a sharp contrast to the bitter wind of the sea. "I wanted to kiss you, Captain," you respond. "It was to help you feel better." Sir Oren blinks at you, his eyes wide as he struggles to make sense of your words. You cannot help but reach out, smoothing your fingers against the side of his face. His beard is soft under your fingers, though scratches at your skin when you let your fingers trail along his jawline. "Are you feeling better?" you ask. "$name," he breathes. Your name comes out half-pleading, half-yearning and it takes you all of your restraint to keep yourself from throwing your arms around his neck and swallowing his lips with your own. You remind yourself that Sir Oren is seasick and your attention might not be the most helpful. "It is alright, Captain," you tease. "When you are feeling better, you can repay me for the kiss." "Repay you?" he asks. You offer him a grin, before turning away from him. As you walk away, you glance over your shoulder. "I expect to be repaid in kind, Captain." <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_10_landing]]

It is dark when you finally step onto the main deck again. Above you, the stars dot across the sky. The wind has picked up speed, a cold gust that ruffles your clothes. You shiver, despite the late spring season and you wonder if there will be another thunderstorm soon. Most of the sailors have retired for the night, with only those on duty who stand nearby. Your mind returns to Lena, the prisoner who led the attack against Lord Redall's barge.<<if $chp5_3 is 5>> She once was part of the Blood Guard, if the letters your father kept were any indication of her past.<<else>> You are uncertain who Lena truly is and despite your earlier interrogation, she did not reveal much to you and Prince Irus.<</if>> Glancing around the main deck, you realise that you have time to speak with Lena alone if you wish. <<if $lena_free is true>> [[Speak to Lena alone.|chp5_11a]]<</if>> <<if $lena_free is false>>[[Speak to Lena alone.|chp5_11b]]<</if>> [[You do not wish to speak to Lena again.|chp5_12]]

<<if $chp5_10b is 1>> "Not at all," you laugh. "But who is to stop you out here at sea?" Queen Elora glances at you, mirth dancing in the depths of her dark irises. She grins, a wide thing that makes her look younger than you have come to know her. Outside the palace, you realise that she is not nearly as stiff as she had been when you first met. Here at sea, Queen Elora seems freer, as if the responsibility of ruling over Vinia has been forgotten. "You are right," Queen Elora chuckles. "My mother is not here to frown at me and no one else aboard the ship has enough rank to stop me from climbing the mast." You match her smile and turn your eyes onto the mast above you. It is made of wood, the thickness of it nearly as wide as your forearm is long. The crow's nest sits above the sky. You watched a few sailors take turns to occupy the small structure atop the mast, but it now sits empty as the ship sails through the sea. "Come on, let's climb up before Oren comes to his senses and tries to stop me," Queen Elora says. [[Next.|chp5_10b2]] <<elseif $chp5_10b is 2>> "It seems more dangerous than it does inappropriate," you murmur, staring at the tall mast. You have never had the chance to climb up very high before. Most trees in Salt Bay were cut down for firewood and those that were not did not grow much taller than the roof of your cottage. Trepidation fills you at the notion of climbing up the mast. The sea is calm today, but you know that you can never truly trust the sea. "Where's your sense of adventure?" Queen Elora asks. "We're at sea, $name. There is no one to tell us what to do or what to say." You glance at Queen Elora, her words seeming more subdued than her smile suggests. Throughout the voyage, you noticed the ease at which Queen Elora walked through the ship. Without her circlet, it was almost as if she were no longer a queen but a sailor aboard the ship. "You are talking about your mother," you note. Queen Elora sighs. "I suppose I am." She smiles then, staring at the crow's nest. "Come, join me, $name." [[Next.|chp5_10b2]] <<elseif $chp5_10b is 3>> "Of course it is inappropriate," you huff. "You are a ruler, not a common sailor. How can you inspire your guards if you are acting no better than them?" Your voice is sharp as you deliver your words. Queen Elora stiffens, her lips pursing into a thin line as she regards you with narrowed eyes. For the first time, she does not ease away the anger in her expression with a forced smile nor does she look away from your gaze. "You think I will inspire my people by simply acting like a ruler should?" she asks. "Forgive me, $name, but I do not think you have enough experience on ruling a kindom to be telling me how to behave." You scoff, "You asked for my opinion." "And I expected an answer unlike the one my mother would have given me," Queen Elora snaps. "If you are only here to judge me then I suggest you leave." She turns away from you before you can reply and with a frown, you walk away from her. [[Next.|chp5_10_landing]] <<elseif $chp5_10b is 4>> "I will support you no matter what you choose to do, regardless of propriety," you breathe. Something in your voice must catch her attention because Queen Elora turns to peer at you softly. Her dark eyes shift over your expression, as if trying to discern whether you are being sincere or not. Whatever she must see in your gaze seems to answer her unasked question for she draws closer to you, her lips pulling into a small smile. "That is kind of you, $name," she murmurs. Reaching out, she brushes her fingers against your cheek. "If only others were as sweet as you are." Your face warms under her stare and you find yourself looking away. But Queen Elora is suddenly in front of you, so close that you can feel the warmth of her breath and smell the lingering perfume in her hair. Her fingers graze along your chin, tipping your face up to her. "Do not look away, $name," she murmurs. "I wonder what you must see for me to deserve such devotion." "You are magnificent," you blurt without thinking. "And I think that you... I think that you can do anything you truly put your mind to." Something flickers past her dark eyes, surprise and then, the warmth of affection. Queen Elora smiles at you, a smile that you cannot look away from. Your heartbeat thunders under your chest, the sound so deafening that you fear that Queen Elora can hear it too. She draws away, casting you a longing look. "Join me, $name. Let us take in the view from the top of the ship." [[Next.|chp5_10b2]] <<elseif $chp5_10b is 5>> "How marvelously inappropriate," you tease. "Perhaps we can do some other inappropriate things up in the crow's nest?" Queen Elora's eyes dart towards you, amusement filling the dark depths of her irises. She leans towards you, her lips pulling into a teasing smile as her fingers dance along your shoulder. "And scandalise the crew? What would they say to learn that their queen is engaging in such scandalous behaviour," she asks. Your eyes drink in the sight of Queen Elora, the way her dark hair sits untidily in a plait. Loose curls threaten to pull free from its hold and you let your fingers smooth the flyaways away from her forehead. Her skin glows golden brown under the sun's heat and her lips part slightly at your proximity. "Perhaps they will think that is only enjoying herself as she rightly should," you murmur. A flush of heat spreads through Queen Elora's cheeks, the sight of it enough to steal your attention. Slowly, your let your fingers smooth over her face, the softness of her skin warm under your touch. She shudders, her breath catching and you lean closer. "Do not tempt me, $name," Queen Elora breathes. She pulls away, grinning at you. "Not here at least. Come, I still want to climb up to the crow's nest." [[Next.|chp5_10b2]] <</if>>

You join Queen Elora as you climb across the rigging and ropes towards the crow's mast. Below you, a few of the sailors call out though their voices are soon lost in the wind that sweeps across your face. Queen Elora is far nimbler than you thought she would be, her arms pulling her up until she clambers onto the crow's nest with ease. You follow after her and she helps you gather your footing as you join her at the top of the mast. For a moment, you take in the sight of the sea around you. It is vast, almost infinite as you stare across the dark blue water. There are no islands in sight and no coastline either. The crew below you are far enough that their voices do not reach you. Glancing at Queen Elora, it is as if you are the only two people in the world. She must sense your stare, because Queen Elora's shift towards you, a sincere smile pulling at her lips. <<set $chp5_10b2 to 0>> [["I am glad I met you," you murmur with a smile.|chp5_10b3][$chp5_10b2 +=1, $eloraRel +=5]] [["Was this what you imagined when you climbed up to the crow's nest?" you ask.|chp5_10b3][$chp5_10b2 +=2, $eloraRel +=5]] [[♡Your skin warms but you cannot look away from Queen Elora's beauty and the way the wind brushes through her hair.|chp5_10b3][$chp5_10b2 +=3, $eloraRel +=5, $eloraRom +=5, $shy_elora +=5]] <<if $irus_lock is false>> [[♡You surge forward, pressing your mouth against hers.|chp5_10b3][$chp5_10b2 +=4, $eloraRel +=5, $eloraRom +=5, $bold_elora +=5]]<</if>>

<<if $chp5_10b2 is 1>> "I am glad I met you," you murmur with a smile. Your words are sincere and you realise that you are grateful for having the opportunity to meet Queen Elora. She has helped not only Prince Irus, but you as well, even when she did not have to. Her eyes soften at your words and she reaches out, gripping your hand in hers. "I feel the same, $name," she answers. "It has been a lonely life and sometimes, I forget what it means to have people to talk to without worrying about how I might be seen." She withdraws her hand, turning to face the cool breeze. A smile breaks across her face and she laughs loudly, her voice swallowed by the crash of the waves against the ship below. You watch her, the carefree way in which she stares at the sea and are suddenly struck by her smile. "I am glad that you feel that way," you breathe. Queen Elora glances at you, smiling. "Of course, $name. And I would hope that you feel the same about me." <<elseif $chp5_10b2 is 2>> "Was this what you imagined when you climbed up to the crow's nest?" you ask. The crow's nest is far above the deck. You strain your eyes, the sailors appearing like dark dots in the distance. Queen Elora seems to give your words thought, her mouth pressing as she considers her response. "It is much better," she admits, smiling at you. "Thank you for joining me." Her smile is warm and genuine and you find yourself returning it easily. Up here, away from the responsibilities of her duty as queen, Queen Elora seems carefree and light. She doesn't wear the same mask she does when in the palace, but rather wears one of open affection and warmth. Her eyes seem lighter too, soft and full of mirth as she gazes at the sea. Her posture relaxed as she leans against the mast and her expression unguarded. As always, she has been kinder than you most of your enounters and there is an ease at which she holds herself, now that is away from the confines of Vinia. "You are a good person, $name," she murmurs. "I am grateful that Iri has had someone like you to take care of him." You smile. "It was nothing." She nudges your shoulder with hers. "Do not be so modest." A grin settles over her lips. "I do not know how you managed so long with him." You join in her laughter, the breeze cool against your skin as you stare across the sea. For a moment, you do not need to worry about what to expect when you arrive in Ishari. It is simply enough to enjoy this moment with Queen Elora. <<elseif $chp5_10b2 is 3>> Your skin warms but you cannot look away from Queen Elora's beauty and the way the wind brushes through her hair. She is magnificent, the sun bathing her with golden warmth. You stare at her, unable to breathe or think. Queen Elora senses your gaze and turns to meet your eyes. Blood rushes to your face, heat spreading across your skin until you are certain that you are nearly as hot as the sun itself. Drawing closer, Queen Elora smiles at your expression, her fingers sliding over your flushed face as she offers you an impish smile. "You are flustered," she murmurs. "How sweet." There is nothing mocking in her tone as she lets the softness of her fingers glide over your cheeks, settling against the back of your neck. Her breath fans across your face and somehow, it is warmer than the rays of the sun yet it sends a shiver down your spine. Your heart beats wildly against your chest and suddenly, you are certain that Queen Elora can hear it. She laughs at the effect her touch has on you. "You are trembling like leaf," she laughs, leaning into you as her arms slide around your waist. "I wonder how else you might tremble if I had to-" You jerk back, nearly stumbling as blood rushes through your ears. Queen Elora laughs at your response, her palm coming to rest against your face. "I jest, $name. But know that I will be here whenever you have need of me." <<elseif $chp5_10b2 is 4>> You surge forward, pressing your mouth against hers. She responds immediately, her lips parting under yours. You gasp, tasting her mouth, sweet and soft as she leans into your touch. Her fingers grasp at the front of your tunic, twisting into the material. Your heart races. Even when the ship was rocking back and forth as it moved through the waves, you had never felt like this before. Like your lungs were bursting for breath and like something was burning inside you. You draw away, a moment of respite before Queen Elora's mouth is upon yours again. The kiss is fervent and hungry, all the tension and desire spilling into this one moment. A swipe of her tongue against your lower lip causes a shudder to run through you and you grip her closer, your fingers tangling in the curls of her plait. Queen Elora finally pulls away, her lips swollen and red. "I could stand out here and kiss you for all eternity." She sighs. "But we are not nearly as alone as I would have liked to be." She is right and yet, it is hard to remember the rest of the crew below who have undoubtedly witnessed your kiss from the main deck. Queen Elora chuckles at your expression and leans forward, pressing a soft peck against your cheek. "Now is not the time, $name," she murmurs. "Later, when things have calmed down." <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_10b4]]

Eventually, you and Queen Elora climb back to the main deck below. If the sailors and guards are curious as to what you and their queen were doing, they do not voice their thoughts. Queen Elora glances at you, a warm smile on her lips. "Thank you for joining me on the crow's nest," she murmurs. "I suppose we are almost proper sailors now." You chuckle, chosing not to bring up your childhood with Ahlf, for fear of ruining this moment. "It was quite an adventure." She nods. "Yes, it was. Thank you, $name." Her eyes dart around the deck at the sailors who mill around. "I suppose I should try and do something useful, before I am accused of squandering this time away. I shall speak to you later, $name." With a final smile, Queen Elora turns away from you and you let out a tired, but content sigh. [[Next.|chp5_10_landing]]

You find Lena in a small holding that has been hastily arranged into private quarters. No longer in the small cell below deck, Lena seems to be making use of the space by walking freely. She glances at you as you approach and you hesitate, suddenly afflicted with indecision. By the way the guards have not strayed too far from her room, it is clear that no one trusts her. "Well, well," she murmurs. "I suppose if anyone was going to muster up the courage to talk to me, it would be you." You stiffen, glancing at her. "What do you mean?" Lena laughs, her voice rough. "Your lordling is furious that I was set free, so he has made the guards keep watch over me like loyal hounds." "Lord Redall?" you ask. "I care not for his name," she mutters. Her eyes dart towards you again. "What is it that you want?" <<set $chp5_11a to 0>><<set $lena_a to false>><<set $lena_b to false>><<set $lena_c to false>><<set $lena_d to false>><<set $lena_e to false>><<set $lena_counter_5 to 0>> [["What's the Nomad Tribe like?" you ask, curious.|chp5_11a1_a][$chp5_11a +=1, $lena_a to true, $lena_counter_5 +=1]] [["What position do you hold in the Nomad Tribe?" you question. "Are you a leader or are you simply following orders of someone else?"|chp5_11a1_b][$chp5_11a +=2, $lena_b to true, $lena_counter_5 +=1]] [["Will you betray our trust now that you are free to wander the ship?" you query.|chp5_11a1_c][$chp5_11a +=3, $lena_c to true, $lena_counter_5 +=1]] [["Will you truly help us in winning the aid of the Nomad Tribes?" you wonder.|chp5_11a1_d][$chp5_11a +=4, $lena_d to true, $lena_counter_5 +=1]] <<if $chp5_3 is 5>> [["What can you tell me about Ahlf?" you ask, wanting to know more about your father's past.|chp5_11a1_e][$chp5_11a +=5, $lena_e to true, $lena_counter_5 +=1]]<</if>>

Lena is still being kept below deck in the cramped cell from before. A few guards linger around the cell, though they do not heed you much attention as you make your way to where Lena sits. She glances up at your approach, her lips curling into a frown at your appearance. "What is it now?" she scoffs. "Are you here to torture me?" You shake your head. "I have some questions for you." Lena grumbles, "I would have preferred the torture." You ignore her words, deciding to ask her the most pressing of your questions. <<set $chp5_11b to 0>><<set $chp5_11a to 0>><<set $lena_a to false>><<set $lena_b to false>><<set $lena_c to false>><<set $lena_d to false>><<set $lena_e to false>><<set $lena_counter_5 to 0>> [["What's the Nomad Tribe like?" you ask, curious.|chp5_11b1_a][$chp5_11b +=1, $lena_a to true, $lena_counter_5 +=1]] [["What position do you hold in the Nomad Tribe?" you question. "Are you a leader or are you simply following orders of someone else?"|chp5_11b1_b][$chp5_11b +=2, $lena_b to true, $lena_counter_5 +=1]] [["Will you consider allying with us instead of Virion?" you query.|chp5_11b1_c][$chp5_11b +=3, $lena_c to true, $lena_counter_5 +=1]] [["Do you not feel guilty about helping Virion?" you wonder.|chp5_11b1_d][$chp5_11b +=4, $lena_d to true, $lena_counter_5 +=1]] <<if $chp5_3 is 5>> [["What can you tell me about Ahlf?" you ask, wanting to know more about your father's past.|chp5_11b1_e][$chp5_11b +=5, $lena_e to true, $lena_counter_5 +=1]]<</if>>

You return to your bunk, a small cot situated in a narrow room. It is not wide enough to stretch out your arms on either side, but it does offer you privacy from the rest of the sailors. With a sigh, you pull off your boots. The floorboards are cool against your bare feet as you shuffle over to the corner farthest away from the door. A thick quilt lies draped across the foot end of the cot. A lantern is hooked to the wall, emitting a pale glow that bathes the rest of the room in an ethereal orange. You do not know what to expect when you arrive in Ishari, but you know that it is too late to turn back now. It is with these thoughts that you finally succumb to sleep. [[Next.|chp5_13]]

"What's the Nomad Tribe like?" you ask, curious. "What is there to know?" Lena retorts. "We are a group of people who believe in no borders or follow the authority of rulers who govern for themselves." <<if $codeNomad is true>> You know a little about the Nomad Tribes and understand that they are wanderers, never settling in one place for too long. From what you gather, there is no real leader of the tribes, though the tribes will often come together when issues of importance arise. <<else>> Lena does not elaborate on what she means and your eyebrow furrows in thought. How can a group of people form together without any one leader? It is a hard thing to understand, but it is clear that Lena is not telling you more than that.<</if>> "Where do you all live?" you question. Lena huffs. "We live wherever we must. The land belongs to us all, $name, contrary to what your rulers might claim." [[Next.|chp5_11a_landing]]

"What position do you hold in the Nomad Tribe?" you question. "Are you a leader or are you simply following orders of someone else?" Lena laughs at your question, amusement in her gaze. "You are a curious one. Did you come here to gather knowledge on my people? I assure you that my loyalty cannot be so easily swayed as by you setting me free." You frown. "That is not what I-" "No, I am not a leader or a chieftess if that is what you are implying," Lena replies. "Leadership was never for me." "But you were in charge when your people attacked us," you reply. Lena shrugs. "I was only in charge of the attack, $name. My orders come from my chieftess who conveyed Virion's message to us." "So you are only a warrior?" you ask. "As good as a warrior as you'll ever get," Lena responds, frowning. [[Next.|chp5_11a_landing]]

"Will you betray our trust now that you are free to wander the ship?" you query. Lena stares at you, her eyes narrowing in thought. For a moment, you fear that you have made a grave mistake in asking for her release. After all, she is responsible for organising an attack against Lord Redall's sailors and you fear that she is only biding her time until she can steal away into the night. Your thoughts must show because Lena offers you a wan smile. "I am not so foolish as to try to betray you now," she sighs. "The ship is heavily guarded and even if I were to manage an escape, it would only mean that I drown before reaching the shore." "So you you are only loyal so long as we remain at sea," you state. Lena grins, mirth dancing in her eyes. "Perhaps. We shall see how I feel when we dock." [[Next.|chp5_11a_landing]]

"Will you truly help us in winning the aid of the Nomad Tribes?" you wonder. Lena sighs, leaning against the wooden wall. She stands tall, now that she no longer crouching in the cramped cell where she was being held prisoner and her hair has been tied neatly at the nape of her neck. You can tell that she must be a formiddable opponent on the battlefield and you believe that were it not for the help of Sir Oren and Queen Elora, she might have succeeded in killing you. "I am no leader, $name," she sighs. "And my voice does not sway the chieftains. Outsiders are not truly trusted in the Nomad Tribes." "Outsiders?" you ask. Lena glances at you, searching your face before deciding to answer you. "I was not born to the Nomad Tribe. I joined when I realised that it was unfeasible to continue as I was." "And now?" you question. "And now, I fight for them because they gave me a home when others could barely stand to look at me," she mutters. "As for your question, I cannot ensure that I will be able to help you gain the trust of the Nomad Tribes. But I will try." [[Next.|chp5_11a_landing]]

"What can you tell me about Ahlf?" you ask, wanting to know more about your father's past. Your question seems to catch Lena by surprise as she turns to stare at you, her eyes scanning over your face as if scrutinising your features to compare them with the memory of your father. You look away, suddenly uncomfortable to be at the object of her focus and wonder if she will choose to answer you or not. "Ahlf was a good man," she sighs. Her voice comes out low and she gives out a hollow laugh. "A fool, through and through." "What do you mean? What can you tell me about him?" you ask. Lena frowns. "He was your father. Should you not have known him better that I did?" <<set $chp5_11a1_e to 0>> [["He was not very open about his past," you mumble, your heart clenching.|chp5_11a1_e1][$chp5_11a1_e +=1]] [["I would rather hear it from you," you respond, not wanting to admit to Lena how frought your relationship with Ahlf was.|chp5_11a1_e1][$chp5_11a1_e +=2]] [["The man was barely a father to me," you spit. "Whatever I know about him, I discovered after his death."|chp5_11a1_e1][$chp5_11a1_e +=3]]

<<if $lena_counter_5 gte 4>>There is little more to ask Lena. She has not told you a great deal, but she seems more amiable than she had been earlier. Lena glances at you, sighing. "I suppose I should thank you," she murmurs. "What?" you ask. Lena looks away and you suddenly note the tiredness in her eyes. "For convincing the prince to free me." You do not know what to say in response and Lena waves away at your confusion. She glances at the small cot, a thin mattress and a blanket than has seen better days, before sighing. "Think nothing of it," she replies. "I believe it is time for me to get some proper rest, unless you have more questions for me?" You shake your head. "No. I'll leave you to it then." Turning away, you take your leave from Lena, unsure if the knowledge you have gleaned will be of any help to you in the future. [[Next.|chp5_12]]<<elseif $lena_counter_5 lt 4>>There are still more questions that only Lena can answer and as she stares at you, you decide what to ask her. <<if $lena_a is false>> [["What's the Nomad Tribe like?" you ask, curious.|chp5_11a1_a][$chp5_11a +=1, $lena_a to true, $lena_counter_5 +=1]]<</if>> <<if $lena_b is false>> [["What position do you hold in the Nomad Tribe?" you question. "Are you a leader or are you simply following orders of someone else?"|chp5_11a1_b][$chp5_11a +=2, $lena_b to true, $lena_counter_5 +=1]]<</if>> <<if $lena_c is false>> [["Will you betray our trust now that you are free to wander the ship?" you query.|chp5_11a1_c][$chp5_11a +=3, $lena_c to true, $lena_counter_5 +=1]]<</if>> <<if $lena_d is false>> [["Will you truly help us in winning the aid of the Nomad Tribes?" you wonder.|chp5_11a1_d][$chp5_11a +=4, $lena_d to true, $lena_counter_5 +=1]]<</if>> <<if $lena_e is false>><<if $chp5_3 is 5>> [["What can you tell me about Ahlf?" you ask, wanting to know more about your father's past.|chp5_11a1_e][$chp5_11a +=5, $lena_e to true, $lena_counter_5 +=1]]<</if>><</if>><</if>>

<<if $chp5_11a1_e is 1>> "He was not very open about his past," you mumble, your heart clenching. Your words come easily, the truth of your relationship with your father not one that you like to dwell on. Lena peers at you closer, her eyebrows furrowing. "I suppose he would not be," she murmurs. "He was always different after meeting Salyra." "Different?" you repeat. Lena shrugs. "Subdued. He was closed off to the rest of us but I suppose after getting an enemy priestess pregnant, you'd start to look at the Blood Guard the way the Ishari people did." "Did he leave the Blood Guard?" you question. But the true question is whether your father left because he was forced to. Without him here to answer your questions, you wonder if he agreed with the ruthlessness of the Blood Guard's attitude towards Ishari. "He left," Lena murmurs. "He was a prisoner of Salyra, you know? When we finally rescued him, he was talking about the stars and fate. We all thought that he had gone mad from being left in Ishari for so long. Erlan thought that Ahlf would return to his duties but your father spoke to Erlan the way many of us felt and left that same night." <<elseif $chp5_11a1_e is 2>> "I would rather hear it from you," you respond, not wanting to admit to Lena how frought your relationship with Ahlf was. Lena must sense your unease because she peers at you with a strange expression on her face. Whatever she must surmise, she chooses not to speak it aloud and you are uncertain if it is relief or panic that surges through your mind. "I suppose that you will want to know more about him when he was younger," Lena replies. "He was loyal, a good man and a good friend. When he first joined the ranks, I thought he never was going to last through his training." "But he did," you mumble. "He became the General of the Blood Guard." Lena's expression turns troubled. "Do not hold that against Ahlf. He had no other choice. Aerus had just died and-" Lena stops, her voice catching. "Who is Aerus?" you ask, confused. "Someone who did not deserve to die," Lena mutters. "Your father took his position shortly after his death. Erlan made certain of that." <<elseif $chp5_11a1_e is 3>> "The man was barely a father to me," you spit. "Whatever I know about him, I discovered after his death." Your vehemence catches Lena by surprise. Her eyebrows furrow at your tone and she stares at you, as if in disbelief of your admission. You scowl, looking away from her gaze. Perhaps Ahlf was a different friend than he was a father, but you know that he was never the father you needed or deserved. "I see," she breathes. "I thought that you had spoken to him about this before." "He died before he could answer any of my questions," you retort. "Ahlf was not always closed off," Lena replies. "He changed after he left the Blood Guard." "What do you mean?" you question. "He stopped speaking to us, though I kept in touch with him. When you were born, he told me that everything would stop. The war would end and I just needed to wait," she explains. "Then, he stops responding to my letters and I feared that he was killed." "Where did he go?" you ask. Lena shrugs. "I never knew, only that he was no longer in Ishari." <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_11a_landing]]

"What position do you hold in the Nomad Tribe?" you question. "Are you a leader or are you simply following orders of someone else?" Lena scoffs at your question, irritation in her gaze. "You are an annoying one. Did you come here to gather knowledge on my people? I assure you that I have no interest in speaking to you while stuck in this cell." You frown. "That is not what I-" "No, I am not a leader or a chieftess if that is what you are implying," Lena interrupts. "Leadership was never for me." "But you were in charge when your people attacked us," you reply. Lena shrugs. "So I was." She does not say anything more, glaring at your from where she still crouches. It is clear that Lena will not speak more on the topic. [[Next.|chp5_11b_landing]]

"Will you consider allying with us instead of Virion?" you query. Lena stares at you with a hard look as if you have lost all senses. You frown, peering at the woman. Her skin is slightly wrinkled at the corners of her eyes and despite being a prisoner in a cell, she does not waver in her defiant gaze. "Why would I?" she demands. "You have not proven yourselves worthy of an alliance with my people." "Will you not consider it?" you ask. "Virion has already caused the death of innocent people." "And what's to say that Erlan's bastard won't do the same?" Lena asks. "I am not interested in whatever alliance you propose." She scowls at you and your words die on your tongue. Looking away, you sigh, knowing that it will take more to convince Lena to support Prince Irus. [[Next.|chp5_11b_landing]]

"Do you not feel guilty about helping Virion?" you wonder. Lena laughs loudly, the sound harsh and her eyes filled with amusement. You frown, uncertain what she finds so humorous. When her laughter finally subsides, Lena looks at you with a sneer. "Why should I feel guilty?" she asks. "Whatever happens is because it is deserved. Erlan brought this turn of events and nothing that you say will make it any different." "You had people killed," you retort. "That was not Erlan's doing." "No," she agrees. "But at least I do not cower behind deception when I kill. This war started long before you were born. I have seen more death than you ever could. Do not lecture me on guilt." [[Next.|chp5_11b_landing]]

"What can you tell me about Ahlf?" you ask, wanting to know more about your father's past. Your question seems to catch Lena by surprise as she turns to stare at you, her eyes scanning over your face as if scrutinising your features to compare them with the memory of your father. You look away, suddenly uncomfortable to be at the object of her focus and wonder if she will choose to answer you or not. "Ahlf was a good man," she sighs. Her voice comes out low and she gives out a hollow laugh. "A fool, through and through." "What do you mean? What can you tell me about him?" you ask. Lena frowns. "He was your father. Should you not have known him better that I did?" <<set $chp5_11b1_e to 0>> [["He was not very open about his past," you mumble, your heart clenching.|chp5_11b1_e1][$chp5_11b1_e +=1]] [["I would rather hear it from you," you respond, not wanting to admit to Lena how frought your relationship with Ahlf was.|chp5_11b1_e1][$chp5_11b1_e +=2]] [["The man was barely a father to me," you spit. "Whatever I know about him, I discovered after his death."|chp5_11b1_e1][$chp5_11b1_e +=3]]

<<if $lena_counter_5 gte 4>>Lena sits silently, watching you with narrowed eyes. It is clear that she has nothing more to say to you. With a sigh, you turn away from her cell and make your way to the main deck. She has not been forthcoming in her responses to you and you can only hope that you will not have a difficult time gaining allies from Ishari. [[Next.|chp5_12]]<<elseif $lena_counter_5 lt 4>>There are still more questions that only Lena can answer and as she stares at you, you decide what to ask her. <<if $lena_a is false>> [["What's the Nomad Tribe like?" you ask, curious.|chp5_11b1_a][$chp5_11b +=1, $lena_a to true, $lena_counter_5 +=1]]<</if>> <<if $lena_b is false>> [["What position do you hold in the Nomad Tribe?" you question. "Are you a leader or are you simply following orders of someone else?"|chp5_11b1_b][$chp5_11b +=2, $lena_b to true, $lena_counter_5 +=1]]<</if>> <<if $lena_c is false>> [["Will you consider allying with us instead of Virion?" you query.|chp5_11b1_c][$chp5_11b +=3, $lena_c to true, $lena_counter_5 +=1]]<</if>> <<if $lena_d is false>> [["Do you not feel guilty about helping Virion?" you wonder.|chp5_11b1_d][$chp5_11b +=4, $lena_d to true, $lena_counter_5 +=1]]<</if>> <<if $lena_e is false>><<if $chp5_3 is 5>> [["What can you tell me about Ahlf?" you ask, wanting to know more about your father's past.|chp5_11b1_e][$chp5_11b +=5, $lena_e to true, $lena_counter_5 +=1]]<</if>><</if>><</if>>

<<if $chp5_11b1_e is 1>> "He was not very open about his past," you mumble, your heart clenching. Your words come easily, the truth of your relationship with your father not one that you like to dwell on. Lena peers at you closer, her eyebrows furrowing. "I suppose he would not be," she murmurs. "He was always different after meeting Salyra." "Different?" you repeat. Lena shrugs. "Subdued. He was closed off to the rest of us but I suppose after getting an enemy priestess pregnant, you'd start to look at the Blood Guard the way the Ishari people did." "Did he leave the Blood Guard?" you question. But the true question is whether your father left because he was forced to. Without him here to answer your questions, you wonder if he agreed with the ruthlessness of the Blood Guard's attitude towards Ishari. "He left," Lena murmurs. "He was a prisoner of Salyra, you know? When we finally rescued him, he was talking about the stars and fate. We all thought that he had gone mad from being left in Ishari for so long. Erlan thought that Ahlf would return to his duties but your father spoke to Erlan the way many of us felt and left that same night." <<elseif $chp5_11b1_e is 2>> "I would rather hear it from you," you respond, not wanting to admit to Lena how frought your relationship with Ahlf was. Lena must sense your unease because she peers at you with a strange expression on her face. Whatever she must surmise, she chooses not to speak it aloud and you are uncertain if it is relief or panic that surges through your mind. "I suppose that you will want to know more about him when he was younger," Lena replies. "He was loyal, a good man and a good friend. When he first joined the ranks, I thought he never was going to last through his training." "But he did," you mumble. "He became the General of the Blood Guard." Lena's expression turns troubled. "Do not hold that against Ahlf. He had no other choice. Aerus had just died and-" Lena stops, her voice catching. "Who is Aerus?" you ask, confused. "Someone who did not deserve to die," Lena mutters. "Your father took his position shortly after his death. Erlan made certain of that." <<elseif $chp5_11b1_e is 3>> "The man was barely a father to me," you spit. "Whatever I know about him, I discovered after his death." Your vehemence catches Lena by surprise. Her eyebrows furrow at your tone and she stares at you, as if in disbelief of your admission. You scowl, looking away from her gaze. Perhaps Ahlf was a different friend than he was a father, but you know that he was never the father you needed or deserved. "I see," she breathes. "I thought that you had spoken to him about this before." "He died before he could answer any of my questions," you retort. "Ahlf was not always closed off," Lena replies. "He changed after he left the Blood Guard." "What do you mean?" you question. "He stopped speaking to us, though I kept in touch with him. When you were born, he told me that everything would stop. The war would end and I just needed to wait," she explains. "Then, he stops responding to my letters and I feared that he was killed." "Where did he go?" you ask. Lena shrugs. "I never knew, only that he was no longer in Ishari." <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_11b_landing]]

A few days later, you find yourself on the main deck. The sailors are rushing around you, a trill of noise as they work. It is nearly chaotic, but you cannot blame them. After all, the endless sea has given way to the beginnings of a shoreline. You cannot deny the allure of walking on solid ground again and as you peer out across the deck, you find yourself staring at the sight of Ishari. Your journey is nearly over and you are... <<set $chp5_13 to 0>> [[...nervous to return to Ishari after all these years.|chp5_14][$chp5_13 +=1]] [[...excited to finally to see what Ishari is like after all these years.|chp5_14][$chp5_13 +=2]] [[...anxious to secure the aid of Ishari in the war against Virion and the Blood Guard.|chp5_14][$chp5_13 +=3]] [[...subdued, glad for the return to land but nervous about returning to Ishari.|chp5_14][$chp5_13 +=4]] [[...exhausted from the journey, unable to think about how you feel about arriving in Ishari.|chp5_14][$chp5_13 +=5]]

<<if $chp5_13 is 1>> Nerves wrack you as you stare at Ishari. In the midst of being attacked and then, being saved by Queen Elora and Sir Oren, you had almost forgotten about the notion of returning to Ishari. When you fled with Mama, it had been during a time of war and destruction. You cannot remember more than the flames and smoke that followed as Mama carried you to safety. You are uncertain what to expect now that you have returned. Perhaps war has made Ishari dangerous or perhaps, there is little left of its people. Your heartbeat thuds faster and your palms grow clammy from the knowledge that the ship will be docking soon. <<elseif $chp5_13 is 2>> Excitement builds inside your skin, like the buzzing of bees or the crash of the waves against the ship. You stare at the shoreline, anticipation filling you. Returning to Ishari is like returning to the home you were stolen from. It feels right. The memories of your time in Ishari with Mama had been stained with the war that forced you to flee, but now, you have returned. You can only hope that the people and the land have recovered from the war against the Blood Guards. It is a frightening thing to know that your hopes might be quashed upon your arrival, but it is one that stays with you as the ship draws closer to the shore. <<elseif $chp5_13 is 3>> Your thoughts collide and then multiply inside your mind. Returning to Ishari is not the main focus of your thoughts. It is difficult to concentrate on your return without thinking about the ways you can secure the alliance of Ishari. Ishari has been at war with Cyre for decades and with their experience, you are certain that they will prove to be formiddable opponents in the eventual war against Virion and the Blood Guards. Yet, you know that gaining their trust will not be an easy feat to accomplish. You will need to convince them to support Prince Irus, the son of the man responsible for the Blood Guard's formation. Securing their aid will be crucial to helping Prince Irus reclaim his throne and failing would only mean the death of many. <<elseif $chp5_13 is 4>> You hold yourself stiffly, uncertain what to feel. Relief swirls within you at the thought of finally being able to step onto dry land again, but beneath it, a swell of trepidation begins to churn in your stomach. You are nervous and happy, the emotions warring inside you like the war between Cyre and Ishari. Your memories of Ishari are stained with memories of fleeing and you wonder if returning will be as tumultuous as it had been when you were a child. Gripping the railing of the deck, you let out a slow breath and with it, some of the tension escapes you. Returning to Ishari is something that almost feels like fate, but you cannot let your memories distract you from the task you must accomplish. <<elseif $chp5_13 is 5>> Your shoulders are stiff and fatigue pulls at your eyes. The journey to Ishari has been wracked with many hardships and deaths, one that nearly cost you and Prince Irus your lives. You cannot bring yourself to feel anything more beyond the exhaustion that creeps up your neck and settles heavily against your temples. You will be grateful to be on dry land again, even if it means that you will be returning to your birthplace. Conjuring up any stronger emotions about your return escapes you, as your tiredness finally begins to weigh your limbs heavily. Perhaps after a proper rest, you will finally be able to feel more than just exhaustion. <</if>> Peering across the sea, you stare at the ever-growing shore. It becomes larger until it comes into view. Slowly, you start to pick out smaller details like the golden-baked sand and the small boats that linger close to the shore. Beyond that, you spy mud brick homes cloistered close together. A tall structure juts out from behind the small houses. A tower is perched atop it, looking down on your boat. You are certain that it is a temple, its design nearly identical to the Temple of Ehulla. A sailor yells from the other side of the deck and slowly, the ship comes to a halt as the anchor is lowered near the main docks. It would seem that you have finally arrived in Ishari. [[Next.|chp5_15]]

<<set $location to "The city of Urur, Ishari">><div class="timeline">The city of Urur, Ishari.</div> Stepping onto solid ground after weeks of travelling is a jarring experience. You sway slightly, accustomed to the rocking of the ship and take a few moments to steady yourself. Behind you, the sailors begin to haul crates of supplies from the deck and onto the docks. Prince Irus stands to one side, urging Crown from the ship. Despite the attack, the steed shows no signs of being affected. As you turn your attention to the city, you breathe in deeply. You smell the familiar salt of the sea and then, woodfire and dust. The land here is gold, baked under the harsh sunlight but beyond that, you notice trees and carts that are led by large bulls. The buildings are pale and smooth, as if they have been stripped of colour over time. You are surprised to find that despite the ongoing war with Cyre, the city has not been ravaged by destruction. The streets are lined with vibrant stalls and merchants hawking their wares. People weave through the streets, casting you curious glances, though none approach where your group stands. It is strange being back in Ishari and it leaves you feeling... <<set $chp5_15 to 0>> [[...hopeful that the rest of Ishari is thriving too.|chp5_16][$chp5_15 +=1]] [[...eager to explore more of the city.|chp5_16][$chp5_15 +=2]] [[...apprehensive, as you do not know what the rest of the city might look like.|chp5_16][$chp5_15 +=3]] [[...impatient to secure an alliance.|chp5_16][$chp5_15 +=4]]

<<if $chp5_15 is 1>> The fluttering of hope begins in the middle of your chest. When you fled as a child, your memories of the fire consuming everything in its path had been seared into your mind and left you with nightmares. But as you take in the buildings and the people around you, it is clear that life has continued, despite the hardships. You can only hope that the rest of the city stands true to this testament. The people here seem resilient, despite the pain that the war has caused. Beyond the houses, you note the tall spires of temples, basking under the sunlight without fear. Ishari is nothing like you imagined it to be, the notion of survival evident in the way the city still stands strong. <<elseif $chp5_15 is 2>> Returning to your birthplace has been a complicated matter, yet, as you take in the city and the vibrant colours around you, you cannot deny the allure of exploring the rest of the city. It has been decades since you were last in Ishari and it feels as if you have returned as a stranger, the sights around you as unknown as the rest of the city's fate. Anticipation fills you at the prospect of venturing through the streets, eager to meet those who have managed to build lives for themselves here in the city. Any sign of war has been hidden by the vibrancy of the city and its people. Stalls line the streets and tall spires of temples dedicated to the Ancient Ones peek from beyond the houses. There is much to see and to learn from the city, both about your heritage and about what an alliance with its people might prove to become. <<elseif $chp5_15 is 3>> It is easy to see that most of the city before you has not been destroyed by the war, yet you cannot stop the niggling doubt that swirls uneasily in the pit of your stomach. You remember the fires that chased after you and Mama when you fled all those years ago. The war had been real then and you know that it is still the case now. You do not know what lies beneath the face of survival. There must be parts of the city that hase been scorched and broken by the attacks of the Blood Guard and you know that there will be people who have lost loved ones from the destruction caused. It would be foolish to think that the rest of the city has been untouched and you let out a breath, knowing that you will be unable to avoid what awaits you. <<elseif $chp5_15 is 4>> It is clear from the way the buildings still stand that Ishari has weathered under the attack of the Blood Guard for years. Yet, you know that the people will not be able to endure the war forever. You are eager to secure an alliance with the people of Ishari. The Blood Guard has only caused pain under the reign of those who would further their own ambitions. The only way to help Ishari and Prince Irus reclaim his throne is through securing an alliance. With the aid of those in Ishari, Prince Irus might have a chance at taking back the throne from his uncle and in the process, he would be able to reunite the two regions that has been fractured by the consequences of the war. <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_17]]

Lord Redall steps off of the ship, glancing at the rest of you. Behind you, Sir Oren stands beside Queen Elora and to your right, Prince Irus leaves Crown in the control of one of the guards before he comes to join the rest of you. By the stares your group receives, you realise that you have garnered attention from the locals of the city. <<if $lena_free is true>> As you turn to regard Lord Redall, you catch him frowning at the sight of Lena who walks alongside the Royal Vinian Guards. He has not voiced his disagreement with the decision to let her walk freely amongst the rest of you, but you have caught him scowling at Lena more than once.<<else>>You spot Lena being led out of the ship with the rest of the Nomad Tribe prisoners. She frowns when your gazes meet, before turning away as the guards lead her out of sight.<</if>> "We will be meeting with a few locals today," Lord Redall explains. "They have been helping with the war efforts in Ishari and if we can convince them that we would be better as allies than enemies, we will get the chance to speak with Princess Lahamu." Prince Irus frowns. "Princess Lahamu? I thought we only needed to speak with those fighting in the war." Lord Redall shakes his head. "Things are not so simple, Your Highness. Even if we secure the aid of the warriors, they still obey their Princess." "Who will we be meeting?" Queen Elora interjects. "We will need to know who we will be dealing with if we are to secure an audience with their Princess." "Of course," Lord Redall agrees. "They are waiting for us at the end of the docks. Come, I will lead us there." [[Next.|chp_18]]

Lord Redall leads the rest of you through the docks, towards the end of the docks, where the mud brick homes have been built closely to the sea. Many of the people around nod at Lord Redall as he passes, his familiar face earning you a semblence of trust to walk freely without being stopped. Eventually, you come to a stop before a tall building, far taller than the squat homes surrounding it. A man with a walking stick makes his way towards Lord Redall, his gait slow and marred by a limp in his left leg. Behind him, a woman with rich brown skin follows. Her hair is short, cut unevenly as if she sliced off the dark strands with a blade. She wears leather armour, as if ready for a battle. Her grey eyes shift over the rest of you, narrowing at Prince Irus before they finally meet yours. For a moment, you are struck by the intensity of her gaze. The severity of her expression eases slightly, her gaze shifting along your face for a second longer than necessary. <<set $chp5_18 to 0>> [[You offer her a smile, wanting to get along with her.|chp5_19][$chp5_18 +=1, $anuRel +=5, $anuRel +=5, $anu_portrait to true, $showAnuRel to true]] [[You look away from her eyes, unable to withstand the intensity of her stare.|chp5_19][$chp5_18 +=2, $anu_portrait to true, $showAnuRel to true]] [[♡Your face suddenly warms under the scrutiny of her stare.|chp5_19][$chp5_18 +=3, $anuRel +=5, $anuRom +=5, $shy_anu +=5, $anu_portrait to true, $showAnuRel to true]] [[♡You smirk at her appraisal, enjoying the attention of her gaze.|chp5_19][$chp5_18 +=4, $anuRel +=5, $anuRom +=5, $bold_anu +=5, $anu_portrait to true, $showAnuRel to true]] [[A scowl pulls at your lips at her evident arrogance.|chp5_19][$chp5_18 +=5, $anuRel -=2, $anu_portrait to true, $showAnuRel to true]]

<<if $chp5_18 is 1>> You offer her a smile, wanting to get along with her. As your expression softens, the woman seems surprised at your smile. You watch her for a moment, noting the way her eyes search you for something that you are uncertain you possess. Perhaps she doubts your reason for being here or perhaps she is naturally suspicious of those who would allign themselves with Prince Irus. A moment passes, before she reciprocates your smile. The gesture softens the severity of her gaze, a sliver of mirth filling the grey of her eyes. You feel a surge of warmth run through you at her smile. Perhaps it will not be so difficult to win over her trust when the time comes. <<elseif $chp5_18 is 2>> You look away from her eyes, unable to withstand the intensity of her stare. She lets out a breath, perhaps a laugh or something like a scoff, but you do not look at her to see which it is. It is difficult to look at her without cowering. Unlike the older man beside her, the woman seems his opposite, intimidating and strong. You cannot keep meet her gaze, even when you feel her eyes on you. Instead, you look at your feet and then at the buildings around you - anything but her expression. she must get bored of staring at you after a moment because you hear a snort of derision escape her before she turns away. <<elseif $chp5_18 is 3>> Your face suddenly warms under the scrutiny of her stare. It is hard to breathe under the grey of her eyes. She stares at you, her gaze slipping over your brow then to your nose before they settle over your mouth. You look away, your heartbeat thundering under your chest and your face nearly as hot as the scorching of the sun. You find it difficult to meet her gaze again and when you do, you find that she is grinning at you. Amusement flickers in her eyes as she watches you, taking in your flustered expression. It takes you a moment before you can control your breathing again and when you do, you find that she is still watching you with an emotion you cannot quite name. <<elseif $chp5_18 is 4>> You smirk at her appraisal, enjoying the attention of her gaze. Your boldness seems to catch the woman by surprise but then, her lips are pulling up into a matching grin. She tilts her head to the side, her eyes slipping over your form and tracing your features with an intensity that sears your skin. When she finally drags her eyes back to your face, there is hunger in her grey eyes, one that matches the ferocity of her smile. You shudder, despite the heat of the sun, suddenly unable to look away from her stare. By the way her smile widens, it is clear that she has no intention of looking away either. <<elseif $chp5_18 is 5>> A scowl pulls at your lips at her evident arrogance. By the way her eyes narrow into a glower, you can tell that she is nearly as unimpressed by you as you are of her. You dislike the way she has already regarded you and your companions, not unlike the way the people of Salt Bay looked at you. If you are to secure an alliance with Ishari, you can only hope that you will not be forced to deal with this woman. She does not seem willing to speak to any of you, nor does she seem interested in building an alliance with Prince Irus. <</if>> Lord Redall speaks, drawing your attention away from the woman, though you feel her glancing at you again. He goes around your small group, introducing you in turn to the man, before gesturing towards the older man. "This is Sargon," Lord Redall explains. Sargon greets you with a smile. "It is good to finally meet you." He glances at the woman beside him with fondness. "This is my daughter, Anu. She is a Priestess of Ehulla and an excellent warrior." Anu frowns. "You are only here because my father thinks an alliance will stop the war." She pauses, glaring at Prince Irus. "If you try to betray us, I will make certain that you die a painful death." Sargon sighs. "That is enough, Anu." He turns towards the rest of you. "Come, we will show you to your lodgings. Any talk of alliance will have to wait until tonight, when the others have returned from their patrols." [[Next.|chp5_20]]

Sargon leads you away from the docks with the rest of the guards and members of the crew to join you later. You find yourself falling into step beside Anu and Prince Irus. Ahead of you, Sir Oren walks alongside Queen Elora with the few guards flanking the rest of you. The roads are busy, despite it still being early morning and as you make your way through the narrow pathways and buildings, you begin to realise that the city has been built to surround the temples in the middle with smaller houses extending outwards. Around you, you spot a few people carrying pointed spears as they walk, casting you strange looks. Anu casts you a long look. "//You// possess Ishari blood. Why are you helping the bastard?" Her voice is loud enough that Prince Irus can hear and his lips pinch into a frown. Anu ignores his look, her grey eyes piercing you. <<set $chp5_20 to 0>> [["Don't call him that," you snap, rankled by the way she treats Prince Irus.|chp5_21][$chp5_20 +=1, $irusRel +=5, $anuRel -=2]] [["Prince Irus is the rightful heir of Cyre," you reply. "You should not treat him as your enemy."|chp5_21][$chp5_20 +=2, $irusRel +=5, $anuRel +=5]] [["My father also commanded the Blood Guard," you mutter. "What are you trying to say?"|chp5_21][$chp5_20 +=3]] [["I am helping Prince Irus because he is a good man," you respond. "Do not be so quick to judge him without knowing him."|chp5_21][$chp5_20 +=4, $irusRel +=5, $anuRel +=5]] [["Call him a bastard again and it will be the last thing you say," you threaten.|chp5_21][$chp5_20 +=5, $anuRel -=5]]

<<if $chp5_20 is 1>> "Don't call him that," you snap, rankled by the way she treats Prince Irus. You voice comes out sharp, a vehement sound that fills the space between you and Anu. She stares at you, seemingly unable to decide whether to be annoyed or amused. After a moment of frowing, she seems to favour annoyance to amusement and shoots Prince Irus a pointed glare. "That's exactly what he is," she mutters. "Erlan sired a bastard and now he's here, spitting in the face of every person who died fighting against the Blood Guard." Prince Irus glances at Anu, his expression darkening. "I am not the one who started the war." "No, but you share the blood of your father," Anu retorts. "No matter what Sargon says, this war will not end from striking an alliance with you." <<elseif $chp5_20 is 2>> "Prince Irus is the rightful heir of Cyre," you reply. "You should not treat him as your enemy." Anu frowns, her eyebrows furrowing as she glances at you. When you do not look away from her gaze, she lets out a strangled sound of irritation, before running her hand through her short hair. She does not look at you, instead staring ahead as you continue walking through the streets of the city. "You cannot be so foolish," she mutters. "He will betray you. It is the way of his family." "Prince Irus is not like that," you reply. <<if $irus_lock is true>> Anu turns to stare at you and something in your face must give away your relationship with Prince Irus, because she suddenly sneers. "Hah," she barks, the sound not quite laughter. "You are a bigger fool than I thought. He will bring nothing but pain to you." <<else>> Anu scowls at your response, casting you an incredulous look. "It does not matter what you think. A man cannot change just because you wish it to be that way."<</if>> <<elseif $chp5_20 is 3>> "My father also commanded the Blood Guard," you mutter. "What are you trying to say?" Your words seem to startle Anu and for a moment, she turns to peer at you closely. Her eyes seem to sweep over your face, lingering on your eyes for a moment before she lets out a sharp breath. "I see," she mutters. "You and he are the same." You frown. "Why? Because our fathers are from Cyre?" Anu glares at you. "Because the both of you were sired from men who sought to kill the rest of my people." Prince Irus glances at Anu, frowning. "Do not talk to $name that way." Anu focusses her glare onto Prince Irus. You note the way her hands curl at her sides, fingers digging into the skin of her palms. "You do not give orders around here, //bastard//." <<elseif $chp5_20 is 4>> "I am helping Prince Irus because he is a good man," you respond. "Do not be so quick to judge him without knowing him." Anu scoffs in response, her eyes sliding towards you. You meet her gaze, frowning when you notice the way her eyebrows crease in the middle of her forehead, as if trying to make sense of your words. She turns away, glaring at Prince Irus before she replies. "I do not need to know him to know the type of man he is," she spits. "He is a coward, just like his father." Prince Irus scowls, his own eyes levelling a hard look in Anu's direction. "And how would you know that?" A smirk slips over Anu's lips, her expression mocking as she regards him. "We all know that you fled from Cyre. Is that why you are here, because you cannot face your uncle alone or because you are too afraid to do so?" "That's enough," you hiss. Anu shrugs but from the expression on her face, she succeeded in what she had set out to do. <<elseif $chp5_20 is 5>> "Call him a bastard again and it will be the last thing you say," you threaten. Your voice comes out low and the warning in your tone only garners a toothy grin from Anu. She turns to face you, her grey eyes glimmering with a flash of rage and beneath it, excitement. Drawing closer, she leans towards you with narrowed eyes. "Be careful what you say," Anu spits. "I am not like my father. I have no qualms in killing a person for less." You open your mouth to retort, but suddenly, Prince Irus is pulling you back by the back of your tunic. He casts you a pointed look, as if trying to determine whether you have lost your senses or if he should be stepping between you and Anu. "$name," he hisses. "Do not start something now. We have yet to secure an alliance." Anu laughs, amusement flashing through her eyes. "Of course you need an alliance, because that is what your people are like. Selfish and greedy." <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_22]]

The tension only seems to mount as you continue to walk through the city. Sargon leads you away from the main roads and you cannot help but wonder if he is keeping you from seeing the rest of the city on purpose. Still, you use the time to take in the small houses and the people who linger in the streets, pausing to gaze at your group. Most of their attention seems directed towards Prince Irus, some curious and others barely masking their hostility. He lets out a breath, his hands pressing into the sides of his legs as he looks ahead, perhaps to ignore their stares. You do not know if it will be any worse when you arrive at the temple, but you can only hope that you will have more chances of success than you seemed to have had with Anu. Soon, the streets widen as you approach a large building. The exterior walls are tall and made from white stone. It stretches up above the rest of the houses surrounding it. It is clearly a temple dedicated to the Ancient Ones, but instead of worshippers you find warriors and priestesses occupying the open spaces of the temple. [[Next.|chp5_23]]

<<set $location to "Temple of Ehulla, Ishari.">><div class="timeline">Temple of Ehulla, Ishari.</div> "You will be accommodated here," Sargon explains. "Most of our temples have been converted to house people who have lost their homes to the war. The Temple of Ehulla is reserved for the warriors and priestesses who have been fighting the Blood Guard." He gestures towards the building, the temple gleaming under the sunlight as though it had been carved from gold. It is no less impressive than the temple you saw when you and Prince Irus first fled Salt Bay. As Sargon leads you into the building, your eyes dart towards the warriors who gather to stare at the rest of your group. "They do not seem to be the most welcoming," Sir Oren murmurs. Queen Elora nods. "It is to be expected." Her eyes drift towards Prince Irus. "We are not exactly locals." While your companions garner pointed looks, you find that you go mostly unnoticed. It seems as if your Ishari heritage has earned you a degree of trust. <<set $chp5_23 to 0>> [[It is odd being treated as if you belong for you do not know much about your Ishari culture.|chp5_24][$chp5_23 +=1]] [[You let out a breath, suddenly feeling as if you have found a place just for you.|chp5_24][$chp5_23 +=2]] [[There is an odd mixture of relief at being so readily accepted and unease for you know nearly nothing about Ishari and its culture.|chp5_24][$chp5_23 +=3]] [[You do not care if you are treated as a local or not, their acceptance of you making no difference to your feelings.|chp5_24][$chp5_23 +=4]] [[Perhaps now your companions will know what it is like to feel like an outsider.|chp5_24][$chp5_23 +=5]]

<<if $chp5_23 is 1>> It is odd being treated as if you belong for you do not know much about your Ishari culture. When you fled to Salt Bay, memories and traditions your mother once taught you, faded until you could barely remember your life in Ishari. Having the warriors and priestesses treat you as though you belong makes you all the more aware of the culture you lost when you fled. Ahlf did not deign to teach you much about it and outsiders did not stay in Salt Bay long enough to bring you information from Ishari. You do not feel any more a local than your companions and the strange confusion that comes from sharing a heritage you know nothing about causes a tremor of uncertainty to run down your spine. Perhaps they will soon discover that you do not truly belong here. If you do not belong here, nor in Cyre, perhaps you were never meant to. <<elseif $chp5_23 is 2>> You let out a breath, suddenly feeling as if you have found a place just for you. It is as if you have returned home - a place you have always known but never travelled to. While you had been accepted in Vinia, here in Ishari, it feels as if you belong. For the first time in years, you are no longer the odd one and your heritage only earns you acceptance, instead of hatred. Perhaps Mama made a mistake when she took you to Salt Bay. A life in Ishari might have been a difficult one, but at least you would have grown up knowing what it is to feel accepted by those around you. Your life in Salt Bay had been a difficult one. Nothing could protect you from the hatred that came from being an outsider in a world where Ishari was the enemy. You did not know how much you longed to feel accepted until now, watching as the faces around you accept your presence readily. The feeling is anchoring, a steady thing that roots you to this moment. No matter what may come, you will no longer have to feel like an outsider. <<elseif $chp5_23 is 3>> There is an odd mixture of relief at being so readily accepted and unease for you know nearly nothing about Ishari and its culture. It is a strange combination, to feel relief at one moment and then to feel doubt swirling in your stomach. You fear that the looks of acceptance will turn into anger when those around you realise that you are not truly the same as them. Ahlf came from Cyre and his blood runs through you as much as Mama's, but it is Cyre that you grew up in. Your Ishari heritage was lost to you the moment you fled with Mama and no matter the circumstances of your birth, you worry that you will not be looked at so kindly when you reveal your ignorance of your mother's people. Perhaps they will accept you the way your family in Vinia had? But the small worm of doubt twists and gnaws at you. What if they do not accept you at all? <<elseif $chp5_23 is 4>> You do not care if you are treated as a local or not, their acceptance of you makes no difference to your feelings. Growing up in Salt Bay meant that you had that you endured being ostracised for your heritage. It means that you had to learn to ignore the stares and whispers, pretending that they did not bother you. Perhaps after so many years of learning not to care, it now becomes far more difficult to unlearn the skill. Caring about what the locals of Ishari think of you would do you no good. You know who you are and that is what matters. There is nothing left inside you that can be changed by a few people looking at you differently, even if it comes from the people who you share half your heritage with. Being treated as a local will do nothing to change your views. Instead of letting your feelings get in the way of your goal, you bury them beneath layers upon layers of indifference. After all, you will not let their thoughts about you affect your decisions. <<elseif $chp5_23 is 5>> Perhaps now your companions will know what it is like to feel like an outsider. You have had to endure being shunned by many in Salt Bay, always an outcast and always treated with displeasure. Glancing at your companions, it is easy to pick up on their uncomfortableness from being stared at so openly. While they might have sympathised with your plight of being treated differently in Salt Bay, you do not think they truly understood what it felt like for you when you were growing up. There is distrust in the gazes of the Ishari people around you, though they are not directed at you. For once, you are free from the stares and whispers, no longer an outsider. <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_25]]

Your thoughts slip away as your group is led into the main chamber of the temple. The air is cooler than outside, a welcome change to the oppressive heat of the early morning. You breathe in the scent of smoke and herbs, with small clay pots that sit atop a circular pedestal. It smells faintly of sweet oil, with an underlying spice that you cannot quite place. "You will be staying in the smaller rooms in the back of the temple," Sargon explains. He shares a look with Anu, before speaking. "Tonight, you will meet the rest of our warriors and the priestesses who fight against the Blood Guard. They will expect to hear the details of your proposed alliance." "Of course," Queen Elora responds, glancing at Prince Irus. "And what should we do until then?" Sargon shifts his weight onto his walking stick. A sigh escapes him. "As much as it pains me to say this, you will need to remain in the temple. Our people will not tolerate outsiders until a deal is struck." "So we are prisoners?" Queen Elora scoffs. Lord Redall speaks before Sargon can reply. "It is only for a day, Your Majesty. I trust Sargon. No harm will befall us while we remain in the temple." A sigh escapes Queen Elora as she glances at the rest of you, her dark eyes meeting your briefly. "Very well. I suppose we should make ourselves comfortable then." [[Next.|chp5_26]]

The room you are assigned is no bigger than the room you shared with Ahlf in the small cottage you grew up in. It is sparsely furnished, with a small cot that holds an uncomfortable mattress and a wooden dresser that contains a simple robe that you noticed the priestesses wearing. Your belongings were salvaged from Lord Redall's barge, but it has not been brought to the temple as yet and so you find yourself with little to do in the tiny room. Your companions had been granted access to rooms along the same narrow hallway as you and you surmise that perhaps one of them would be willing to explore the rest of the temple with you. <<set $chp5_first_comp to 0>><<set $chp5_temple_irus to false>><<set $chp5_temple_elora to false>><<set $chp5_temple_oren to false>><<set $chp5_temple_anu to false>> [[You seek out Prince Irus.|chp5_27a][$chp5_first_comp +=1, $chp5_temple_irus to true]] [[You visit Queen Elora's room.|chp5_27b][$chp5_first_comp +=1, $chp5_temple_elora to true]] [[You decide to spend your time with Sir Oren.|chp5_27c][$chp5_temple_oren to true, $chp5_first_comp +=1]] [[You are curious about Anu and decide to speak to her.|chp5_27d][$chp5_first_comp +=1, $chp5_temple_anu to true]]

Prince Irus' room is only a few paces away from you and when you peer past the open doorway, you find him gazing at the room with a slight frown. For a moment, you study his expression and the way his shoulders bunch around his neck. He seems tense, though after meeting Anu, it is understandable why he might feel that way. "Irus?" you call. He startles at the sound of your voice, turning towards you with a surprised look on his face. "$name," he murmurs. "I did not see you there." You step further into the room, realising that his is nearly identical to yours, except that there is a small opening in the wall to let the sunlight filter through. The burst of light filters across Prince Irus, bathing him in a golden glow. For a moment, he seems as regal as the statues of the Ancient Ones you saw in the main chamber of the temple. He raises an eyebrow. "What is it?" <<set $chp5_27a to 0>> [["I was just thinking that you looked like a king just now," you respond.|chp5_27a1][$chp5_27a +=1, $irusRel +=5]] [["Do you stand in the sunlight on purpose?" you laugh. "Or are you trying to look more regal?"|chp5_27a1][$chp5_27a +=2, $irusRel +=5]] [[You scoff, "Why do you get a window in your room?"|chp5_27a1][$chp5_27a +=3]] <<if $irus_lock is true>> [[♡"I... nothing," you mumble, suddenly unable to look at him.|chp5_27a1][$chp5_27a +=4, $irusRel +=5, $irusRom +=5, $flirt_shy +=5]] [[♡"You look rather handsome in the sunlight," you purr.|chp5_27a1][$chp5_27a +=5, $irusRel +=5, $irusRom +=5, $flirt_bold +=5]]<</if>>

You bump into Sir Oren on your way towards his room. He is hard, a mass of muscle and strength as you collide into his chest. Reaching out, Sir Oren steadies you by your shoulders, his eyebrows furrowing as he gazes at you. "$name," he breathes. "I apologise. I did not expect to walk into you like that." He frowns, peering over you in concern. In the time you have come to know Sir Oren, you have discovered that he tends to worry himself over others more than he does for himself. It is endearing to some and to others, you suspect it might be irritating. <<set $chp5_27c to 0>> [["It is alright," you reply with a smile. "I should have called out to you first."|chp5_27c1][$chp5_27c +=1, $orenRel +=5]] [["You are always concerned about others," you murmur, warmed by his care.|chp5_27c1][$chp5_27c +=2, $orenRel +=5]] [["As a Captain, you should be more aware of your surroundings," you snap. "You could have hurt someone."|chp5_27c1][$chp5_27c +=3, $orenRel -=3]] [[♡"Oh," you mumble, warming under his touch. "That is alright."|chp5_27c1][$chp5_27c +=4, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5, $shy_oren +=5]] [[♡"There is no need to apologise," you tease. "I do not mind our bodies pressing together."|chp5_27c1][$chp5_27c +=5, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5, $bold_oren +=5]]

You find Queen Elora in her room, her lips pressed into a frown as she struggles to smooth down the curls of her hair. She glances at you in her doorway, a sheepish look passing through her eyes. "$name," she greets. "How long have you been standing there?" Stepping into her room, you shrug. "Not too long." Her room is small, a narrow bed on one side of the wall and a dresser and basin on the other. Like you, her belongings have not yet been brought to the temple and she wears the same clothes that she wore on the ship. She mutters a curse under her breath, her fingers tightening around the thick strands of her hair. "This is infuriating," she grumbles. <<set $chp5_27b to 0>> [["Your hair looks fine," you reply, offering her a reassuring smile.|chp5_27b1][$chp5_27b +=1, $eloraRel +=5]] [["Do you need some help?" you offer.|chp5_27b1][$chp5_27b +=2, $eloraRel +=5]] [["Do not tell me that you cannot even brush your hair without the assistance of servants," you mutter.|chp5_27b1][$chp5_27b +=3, $eloraRel -=5]] [[♡"I think your hair looks beautiful when it is open," you murmur, warming as you speak the words.|chp5_27b1][$chp5_27b +=4, $eloraRel +=5, $eloraRom +=5, $shy_elora +=5]] [[♡"Leave it open," you murmur, running your fingers through her hair.|chp5_27b1][$chp5_27b +=5, $eloraRel +=5, $eloraRom +=5, $bold_elora +=5]]

You do not know much about Anu, the woman who had been so hostile towards Prince Irus when you first met and decide to seek her out. She seems as if she might be able to tell you more about the temple and its people, even if she might not fully trust you. Your search for Anu proves to be a futile task. You do not know where she might be nor where her room is, so you find yourself wandering the hallways of the temple aimlessly. It is not until you reach a staircase, one that stretches up to the floor above you that you realise you are lost. Retracing your steps is a difficult thing when you do not where you are going. The hallways look nearly identical to each other and remain silent, aside from your lone footsteps. You turn around the corner of the hallway, yelping when you are tugged backwards by a sharp pull. "Where do you think you're going?" You are spun around, shoved against the wall so that your back presses against the cool stone. Your eyes widen as Anu stands before you, her eyes narrowed so that the grey of her eyes seem like storm clouds. <<set $chp5_27d to 0>> [["I was looking for you," you admit, offering her a small smile.|chp5_27d1][$chp5_27d +=1, $anuRel +=5]] [["I was lost," you answer, shrugging.|chp5_27d1][$chp5_27d +=2, $anuRel +=5]] [["Get your hands off of me," you spit, shoving her grip off.|chp5_27d1][$chp5_27d +=3, $anuRel -=5]] [[♡You suddenly feel hot with her pressing you against the wall like that.|chp5_27d1][$chp5_27d +=4, $anuRel +=5, $anuRom +=5, $shy_anu +=5]] [[♡"I think I am already where I want to be," you murmur, smirking at her.|chp5_27d1][$chp5_27d +=5, $anuRel +=5, $anuRom +=5, $bold_anu +=5]]

<<if $chp5_27a is 1>> "I was just thinking that you looked like a king just now," you respond. He seems uncertain how to respond, his mouth opening and closing before a small smile pulls the corners of his lips. Looking at him now like this, you can see why he would make a great leader for Cyre, you only hope that the people of Ishari can see it too. "Thank you," he replies, smiling at you. You step closer, letting your eyes take in his sight. He has changed, you think. It is in the way he stands taller, his words no longer ridden with doubt when he speaks. There is an innate confidence in his posture, signalling a man no longer afraid to take the throne that is rightfully his. "You have changed from when we first met," you respond. Prince Irus glances at you, his expression softening. "You changed too, $name." "I have?" you ask. Prince Irus nods. "Salt Bay was not a good place for you. Perhaps you have managed to find yourself when you left?" You let out a small breath, his words sinking deep into your thoughts. When you first left Salt Bay, you had not realised how closed off you had been until you met people who did not shy away from you because of your Ishari heritage. Gazing at Prince Irus, you smile at him. "I suppose we both changed," you breathe. <<elseif $chp5_27a is 2>> "Do you stand in the sunlight on purpose?" you laugh. "Or are you trying to look more regal?" Prince Irus grins in response, mirth dancing in the blue of his irises. "Can it not be both?" You shake your head, failing to mask your smile. "I almost forgot how arrogant you can be." A deep rumble of laughter spills past his lips, the sound light and warm, making him appear younger. It is a pleasant sight to see him laugh after everything that you have encountered. The tension from his shoulders eases, as he stands straighter, no longer burdened by the hardships of your journey to get to Ishari. "It is not arrogance if it is the truth," Prince Irus chuckles. You eyebrow raises at his words, the teasing in his tone a contrast to the anxiousness that had gripped him after Virion's arrival. It is good to see Prince Irus no longer afraid of what is to come and perhaps, the people of Ishari will see it too. "Perhaps you can woo the people of Ishari wtih your good looks instead of with an alliance," you reply, smirking. Prince Irus slings his arm around your shoulder. "I fear that they will be unable to cope with this much handsomeness, $name. I shall reserve it for when I take back the throne." <<elseif $chp5_27a is 3>> You scoff, "Why do you get a window in your room?" Prince Irus blinks, before turning towards the opening in the wall. When he turns to look at you, he shrugs in confusion. "I did not get to choose the room I was given, $name," he replies. "Perhaps you can ask for a different one." You ignore his words, pushing past Prince Irus as you peer through the opening. The sound of voices from temple courtyard filters up to the window and beyond that, you notice the sea in the distance. Are the people of Ishari trying to make Prince Irus more comfortable or are they trying to lull him into a false sense of security? "I do not think they would oblige my request," you mutter. Prince Irus sighs. "It is only a window. I am certain that you will survive without one." You narrow your eyes at him. "Of course." <<elseif $chp5_27a is 4>> "I... nothing," you mumble, suddenly unable to look at him. The heat in the room builds until your face is warm and your breathing is erratic. Your eyes dart from the window to the walls and then to the cot at the far end of the room. Staring at the cot reminds you that you are alone with Prince Irus and suddenly, the space between you is not nearly as wide as you first thought. You cannot meet his eyes, not even when he steps forward and lets his fingers curl around the side of your neck. A shudder runs through you, his touch searing like the beginnings of a flame and you cannot possibly breathe. Prince Irus leans closer, his lips brushing the outline of your ear, his breath heated and his voice soft. "Are you certain?" he asks. There is amusement in his tone. "If there is something bothering you, I would be more than happy to help you." He pulls away slightly, his eyes dancing with mischief and something far deeper. Running his thumb along your jawline, he lets his gaze drop to your mouth before he meets your eyes once more. He tilts his head, his expression softening. "Tell me, $name," he breathes. "It was the sun," you blurt. Your ears feel hot and your heartbeat is thudding loudly. Prince Irus' brows furrow at your response, but he still does not pull away. "The sun?" You nod jerkily, unable to hold his gaze. His hands have slipped down your arms and now they rest on your waist, holding you close against him. You could count every freckle on his nose if you wanted to but you can barely focus on anything other than his proximity, his warmth, how his skin feels pressed against yours. He smiles at you, his gaze full of affection and warmth and, //oh//, does the way he looks at you make your stomach flutter. Prince Irus presses closer, his lips brushing the side of your face. His lips are warm, a soft peck against your cheek and then lower, at the corner of your mouth. "I suppose it is rather hot in Ishari, hm?" he asks. You can only nod, your voice suddenly lost. <<elseif $chp5_27a is 5>> "You look rather handsome in the sunlight," you purr. The words come easily and you realise that it is the truth. He is far more handsome than he ought to be for someone who has only just stepped off a ship. Your eyes trace along his broad shoulders, the way his jawline has darkened from the stubble that has grown out. It is hard to stop looking now that you have started, and your eyes settle on the fullness of his lips before moving to the intensity of his gaze. "Oh?" he asks, as he steps closer to you, his fingers threading through yours. "What else do you think of me?" You catch the glimmer of mirth in his eyes, the blue of his gaze rivalling the colour of the sky. He smells like salt and beneath it, a familiarity that comes from spending so much time with another person. Prince Irus lifts your joined hands, turning your hand so that he can press his lips against the pulse in your wrist. A surge of heat runs through you, your eyes focussed on where his mouth meets your skin. He must sense your gaze, because he lifts his eyes, your gazes locking. A shudder runs through your spine and suddenly, it is not enough to simply stand there with your hands joined. But Prince only offers you a teasing grin, pulling his lips away from your hand. "I think you are a cruel tease," you huff. Prince Irus lets out a laugh, the sound a deep timbre that reverberates through your bones. You close your eyes, the yearning that swirls in your stomach suddenly tugging into something far hungrier. Prince Irus gazes at you, the heat in his eyes enough to make you feel as if you have been swallowed by flames. "Do not look at me like that, $name," he breathes, his voice husky. "Or I might not let you leave." You shiver at his words. The implication of spending the rest of the day with Prince Irus is enough to make you rethink your decision of exploring the temple. He must sense your thoughts, because he pulls away all too soon. "We should at least wait until we will not be distrubed, $name," he laughs. "I do not think the people of Ishari will appreciate a prince who spends all his time with his beloved." <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_27a2]]

The room is warm when you finally become reminded of your reason for seeking out Prince Irus. There is still much that you do not know about the temple and the people of Ishari and you hope that you will be able to learn more, even if you are confined to the temple and its courtyard. "Would you like to explore the rest of the temple with me?" you ask.<<if $chp5_first_comp gt 1>> "I have seen some of it already, but I wanted to know if you would join me?"<</if>> Prince Irus nods. "Yes. It would be good to meet the people who will decide if an alliance will be possible." Together, you set out of the room, hoping to discover more about Ishari and its people. [[Next.|chp5_27a3]]

The Temple of Ehulla is similar to the one you and Prince Irus found refuge in when you first fled Salt Bay. But it is slightly larger and from the intricate architecture of the stone ceilings, you can tell it is far older too. The hallways are long and narrow closer to the rooms you and the others were given, but as you step out into the main chamber, the hallways widen out so that at least twenty people could filter though without bumping into each other. In small alcoves, you find statues, carved out of gleaming bronze and gold depicting the Goddess of Ehulla. She is a mother in one and a protector in another. Further down the hallway, you notice a depiction of Ehulla wielding a gleaming spear, as if the tip was made of fire. "Ehulla is a protector of our people." The voice is gravelly and low, startling you and Prince Irus from where you have come to a stop. Turning towards the voice, you find Sargon. He leans against his walking stick and this close, you notice that his left leg is weaker than the right. He notices your examination and smiles. "An old war wound," he explains. "But you are not wandering the hallways looking to learn about me." "We wanted to see the rest of the temple," Prince Irus explains. Sargon smiles. "Of course. Come, I will be your guide." [[Next.|chp5_27a4]]

You cannot help but feel as if Sargon is trying to keep you from exploring parts of the temple you are not meant to see. He does not trust you nor does he trust Prince Irus, despite his amiable demeanour. Still, he shows you to the gardens where you find priestesses tending to vegetables and tall trees bearing ripe lemons. Then, he leads you to the bath house, situated in the lower levels of the temple, the pool large enough to fit a dozen people. There is a circular chamber where Sargon explains meals are served and the rooms at the top of the temple are reserved for prayers and rituals that are open only to the priestesses. Eventually, Sargon comes to a stop at the beginning of the main chamber. He glances at you, his eyebrows furrowing in thought. "Forgive me for asking this, but you are not fully Ishari, are you?" he asks. <<set $chp5_27a4 to 0>> [["My father was from Cyre," you explain.|chp5_27a5][$chp5_27a4 +=1]] [["I was born in Ishari but I left to live with my father in Cyre when the Blood Guard destroyed our home," you reply.|chp5_27a5][$chp5_27a4 +=2]] [["I do not see how that is relevant," you retort.|chp5_27a5][$chp5_27a4 +=3]]

<<if $chp5_27a4 is 1>> "My father was from Cyre," you explain. You do not elaborate on the details of your parentage. Somehow, you do not think that telling Sargon and the rest of the people in the temple about your mother and father's relationship would garner you any favour. Sargon peers at you, his eyes meeting yours. "Your eyes," he murmurs. "It gives you away as being Ishari." You frown. "I have heard that many times." Sargon chuckles, "It is because you carry the blood of a priestess. The priestesses are bestowed with the gifts from the divine." His words are like the missing part of a memory you can never recall. Mama was a priestess too, is that why your eyes give away your heritage? <<elseif $chp5_27a4 is 2>> "I was born in Ishari but I left to live with my father in Cyre when the Blood Guard destroyed our home," you reply. Sargon's mouth twists into a frown of sympathy. "I am sorry to hear that, $name. Many lost their homes and families when the Blood Guard came." You think about Mama and pang of hurt twists tightly around your heart. <<if $motherdeath is true>>She must be dead, because how else could anything explain her never returning for you?<<elseif $motherdeath is false>>You cannot fathom that she is dead. Perhaps she is hiding from danger, waiting to return to you?<<elseif $mother_unsure is true>>You do not know what to think about your mother's absence, uncertain if she is alive or dead.<</if>> "And what about your father?" Sargon asks. "I did not see him with the rest of you." You frown. "The Blood Guard killed him." A look of pity fills Sargon's gaze as he looks at you. "I am deeply sorry, $name. You have lost so much at such a young age." <<elseif $chp5_27a4 is 3>> "I do not see how that is relevant," you retort. You do not understand why Sargon is interested in your heritage. Is it because you are only half-Ishari? Sargon gazes at you, his eyes flickering with sorrow and curiosity. "I did not mean to offend you, $name," he replies. "I was only wondering why I have not seen you in Ishari before." "I grew up in Cyre," you explain. "With my father." A look of realisation fills Sargon's expression and you can tell that he has worked out your heritage. You are uncertain what to expect, but Sargon only offers you a soft smile, not nearly as hostile as you might have expected. "I see," he replies. "There are few others like you, but they will often remain in Ishari for fear of what the treatment may encounter in Cyre." "I..." you begin to say before pausing. "It was not easy in Cyre." Sargon sighs, "I believe it would not have been." <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_27a6]]

Sargon glances at Prince Irus. He is at least a head shorter than the prince, having to look up when he speaks. "Tell me, Prince Irus, are you truly looking to form an alliance with our people?" Prince Irus nods, determination in his voice. "I am." "Good," Sargon replies. He lets out a tired breath. "The war has been going on for too long. It is time that we end it through peace and not bloodshed." <<set $chp5_27a6 to 0>> [["You sound like you are in favour of an alliance with Prince Irus," you state. "Will he have your support tonight?"|chp5_27a7][$chp5_27a6 +=1]] [["Have you tried to form an alliance before?" you question.|chp5_27a7][$chp5_27a6 +=2]] [["Your daugther seems to think differently," you mutter.|chp5_27a7][$chp5_27a6 +=3]]

<<if $chp5_27a6 is 1>> "You sound like you are in favour of an alliance with Prince Irus," you state. "Will he have your support tonight?" Sargon turns his attention to you, searching your expression. You wonder if he sees someone loyal to Prince Irus or if he only sees you as someone who has betrayed the people of Ishari. He sighs, his fingers tightening around the wooden handle of his walking stick. "He has my support if he can prove to be an honourable man," Sargon responds. "I will speak in his favour but the others will not be so accepting of an alliance. You will need to prove yourselves worthy." <<elseif $chp5_27a6 is 2>> "Have you tried to form an alliance before?" you question. Sargon lets out a breath, frowning slightly. "We have tried reasoning with the Blood Guard before, but nothing worked." "What do you mean?" you ask. "I heard of a possible alliance, a way to stop the war," he murmurs. "I was still just a warrior then, too unimportant to know the details. Then, there was more war and deaths and the alliance had been forgotten." "Who had made the alliance?" you question. Sargon shrugs. "A priestess, I believe. But I do not know more than that." <<elseif $chp5_27a6 is 3>> "Your daughter seems to think differently," you mutter. Sargon turns to you, his eyes narrowing at the mention of Anu. There is a protective gleam in his gaze and you cannot help but falter under his stare. You wonder if Ahlf ever looked that way when anyone spoke about you. "Anu has had a hard life," he replies. "Her experience with the war changed her and for that, it has made it difficult to see past the bloodshed and fighting." "And the others?" Prince Irus interrupts. "Are they just as jaded as Anu?" Sargon looks away. "Most are. They have been hurt by the cruelty of the Blood Guard and it has made them distrustful of anyone suggesting an alliance. Many expect you to betray them once you secure your throne, so you will have to prove that you will not." <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_27a8]]

Behind Sargon, a group of warriors begin to enter the temple, drawing the older man's attention away from you. You steal a glance at Prince Irus, noting the furrow in his brow, his expression thoughtful. It seems that no matter what happens, he will still need to convince the rest of the warriors and priestesses of the benefits of forming an alliance. "You must excuse me," Sargon says. "I must speak with the warriors who have returned from their patrols. You are free to explore the rest of the temple on your own." He turns and makes his way towards the group of warriors, leaving you alone with Prince Irus. Glancing at Prince Irus, you find his blue eyes already on you. "I think I will speak to a few others," he explains. "Perhaps they will be less wary of me if I speak to them." "Of course," you answer. <<if $irus_lock is true>> Prince Irus smiles softly, leaning over to press a soft but chaste kiss to your cheek. "Thank you, $name. We will speak more later." He leaves before you can respond, the feel of his lips still lingering on your skin. <<elseif $irus_lock is false and $irusRel gte 60>> Prince Irus casts you a warm smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Thank you for understanding." He turns away, striding deeper into the hallways, leaving you alone. <<else>> He nods at you, before turning away and leaving.<</if>> [[Next.|chp5_27_landing]]

<<if $chp5_first_comp lt 4>>There is still much to see of the temple and more people you can talk to before tonight. You decide to... <<if $chp5_temple_irus is false>> [[You seek out Prince Irus.|chp5_27a][$chp5_first_comp +=1, $chp5_temple_irus to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp5_temple_elora is false>> [[You visit Queen Elora's room.|chp5_27b][$chp5_first_comp +=1, $chp5_temple_elora to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp5_temple_oren is false>> [[You decide to spend your time with Sir Oren.|chp5_27c][$chp5_temple_oren to true, $chp5_first_comp +=1]]<</if>> <<if $chp5_temple_anu is false>> [[You are curious about Anu and decide to speak to her.|chp5_27d][$chp5_first_comp +=1, $chp5_temple_anu to true]]<</if>> [[You return to your room, waiting for the meeting with the other warriors and priestesses.|chp5_28]] <<elseif $chp5_first_comp is 4>>It is already dark outside and soon, you will be meeting with the rest of the warriors and priestesses to discuss the possibility of an alliance. You return to your room, knowing that there is no time left to speak with others. [[Next.|chp5_28]]<</if>>

The return to your room is filled with stillness, the tension of the meeting weighing heavily on you. From what you have gathered, it will take more than a simple exchange of words to secure the alliance tonight and you can only hope that Prince Irus can succeed in winning the favour of the people of Ishari. <<if $irus_lock is true>> Distracted, you do not notice when Prince Irus peers into the room, his eyes finding yours in the dimness of the early night. "Sargon said that we will be meeting in the main chamber," Prince Irus explains. "It is time to go." <<else>> Distracted, you do not notice when Sir Oren peers into the room, his hazel eyes finding you in the dimness of the room. "The meeting is starting now, $name," he says. "Her Majesty has asked that I gather everyone of our group to the main chamber."<</if>> [[Next.|chp5_29]]

<<if $chp5_27b is 1>> "Your hair looks fine," you reply, offering her a reassuring smile. Queen Elora glances at you, her dark eyes softening at your words. She sighs, untangling her fingers from the dark curls that frame her face. In Vinia, she had always been flanked by attendants and guards, yet now, she is alone. Gazing at Queen Elora, you find that she is unable to meet your eyes, her fingers fidgeting at her sides. "Is something wrong?" you ask. She shakes her head. "It is nothing, $name. I just wonder if I complain too much about being queen only to realise that I miss the luxuries that come with the responsibilities." "You miss your servants?" you ask. Queen Elora looks at you, a flicker of embarrassment passing through her eyes. "A little. Things were always easier with them around, but I suppose that is how everyone else lives." You move to stand beside her, nudging her shoulder with yours. "There is nothing wrong with enjoying having attendants around." A small laugh escapes her. "Are you certain? Sometimes I think that I am turning into my mother." You shake your head, grinning. "Trust me, you are not turning into your mother." <<elseif $chp5_27b is 2>> "Do you need some help?" you offer. Queen Elora hesitates, as she glances at you. "I couldn't ask you to help me, $name." You move towards her, offering her a soft smile. "I would not have offered if I did not mean it." She stares at you for a moment, before relenting with a sigh. Her hands fall from the thick strands of her hair and she turns her back to you, as you move to stand behind her. Plaiting hair cannot be much more different than weaving the ropes to make a fishing net, you think. You let your fingers run through the thick curls of Queen Elora's hair, untangling the knots that pull against your fingers. "I must look pitiful," she murmurs. You pause, staring at the side of her face. "Why do you say that?" Queen Elora gives you a half-shrug, staring at the wall ahead. "I have never really done anything on my own for a long time, $name. There are always attendants and servants who will pick out my outfits and brush my hair." "You are a queen," you answer, continuing to untangle her hair. "That is normal." "I know," Queen Elora sighs. "But it sometimes feels as if I am just as bad as my mother. She has always believed that as a royal, you are not meant to be lowering yourself to such menial tasks." You begin to plait her hair, by gathering her curls in three sections. The plait is simple, nothing like the elegant hairstyles her attendants might have given Queen Elora, but it is enough to keep away the loose strands of her hair from her face. "It's done," you say, turning to look at Queen Elora. She blinks, running her fingers over her hair. "Thank you, $name." You offer her a small smile. "There's nothing wrong with enjoying having attendants around. And until you return to the palace, I will happy to assist you." Queen Elora's smile widens. "Thank you, $name. You are a kind friend." <<elseif $chp5_27b is 3>> "Do not tell me that you cannot even brush your hair without the assistance of servants," you mutter. Queen Elora frowns, her eyebrows furrowing as she turns to regard you. It is evident that your words have only served to anger her further. Grumbling, she drops her hands to her sides, turning her attention to anything but you. "I suppose you have come to gloat then?" she asks. You shake your head. "It is not nearly as difficult as you think it is. For someone who is in charge of the kingdom, many would expect you to know how to do this." Queen Elora turns her scowl onto you. "I did not realise that brushing my hair was such a high priority for the rest of my kingdom." You make a face, choosing to remain silent. <<elseif $chp5_27b is 4>> "I think your hair looks beautiful when it is open," you murmur, warming as you speak the words. There is a gentleness in Queen Elora that makes it difficult to look away. She is soft and warm and when she turns and smiles at you, you feel a flutter of excitement surge through you. Her eyes soften at your expression and she steps towards you, her gaze dragging over your face. "You do not need to flatter me, $name," she murmurs. "But it is true," you breathe. You swallow, your mouth dry. "I think that everything about you is beautiful." Queen Elora lets out a breath, the heat brushing against your skin and sending a shiver down your spine. You cannot meet her eyes, suddenly shy under her stare. Her fingers grasp your hand, her touch sending a tremor through you. Slowly, she threads her fingers through yours, her skin warm against yours. "You are kind, $name," she breathes. "Kinder than I deserve." You frown, looking at her. She is smiling at you, her eyes warm and full of softness. With her free hand, Queen Elora lets her fingers slip over the side of your face, cupping your cheek gently. "I do not think anyone has ever thought the whole of me beautiful before," she murmurs. Her eyes drift towards your mouth, then return to your eyes. "It is almost enough to make me swoon." Your knees grow weak and you fear that the teasing in her tone is enough to cause you to collapse. Queen Elora lets out a laugh, the sound light and her expression warm. She draws away sooner than you would have liked and you let out a breath that you had not realised you had been holding. "If it helps, $name," she teases, tugging at the edge of your tunic. "I think you cut quite a dashing figure as a sailor." <<elseif $chp5_27b is 5>> "Leave it open," you murmur, running your fingers through her hair. Queen Elora shudders against your touch and she turns her gaze onto you. You see a heated look flicker through the darkness of her eyes, making it seem as though her pupils have been swallowed by her irises. She lets out a soft breath, the brush of heat enough to send a shudder down your spine and you draw closer. "$name," she murmurs. Your name sounds comes out pleading. "Do not say such things when we are alone. It is a dangerous thing to tempt a woman when there is a bed nearby." You laugh, the sound breathy. "You do not always need a bed, //Your Majesty//." <<if $irus_lock is true>> Queen Elora smirks, but she widens the space between you, as if trying to regain her composure. <<else>> Queen Elora smirks, leaning closer so that her lips barely brush your ear. "Do not give me ideas, $name." She draws away before you can reply, offering you a smirk.<</if>> "Very well," she teases. "I shall leave my hair open, if only for you." You return her grin, letting your fingers slip through the soft curls that gather against your hold. She smells like salt and jasmine, an odd mixture of hunger and desire. You force away the sudden urge to draw her into your arms and lout a deep breath. <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_27b2]]

Queen Elora gazes at you, tilting her head. "Was there something you needed, $name?" You gesture towards the doorway of her room. "I was hoping that you would accompany me through the temple.<<if $chp5_first_comp gt 1>> I have already explored some of it, but there is still more to see.<</if>>" Queen Elora smooths down her trousers, nodding at you. "Yes, it would be good to see more of the temple before we have address the possibility of an alliance tonight. Thank you for asking me." Turning, you step out of Queen Elora's room and into the narrow hallway. She follows closely after you as you begin your exploration together. [[Next.|chp5_27b3]]

It is easy enough to become confused with the narrow hallways that join in the main chamber and after the third time of returning to the same place, Queen Elora gestures towards the arched entrance of the temple. Sunlight filters in, casting the floors with a golden hue. "We should go out into the courtyard," Queen Elora says. "Even if we cannot explore the rest of the city, we will still be able to see how the rest of the people live." You nod in agreement, following Queen Elora out into the courtyard. The sun warms your skin as you step outside, dust gathering beneath your footsteps. It is warmer here than it had been in Cyre and Vinia, though you are uncertain if it is merely from the climate or because summer is nearly upon you. There are a number of people outside and you realise that it is not only priestesses and warriors. To one side, there are a few children who seem to be having a lesson taught by a priestess. On the far end of the temple, you notice that there are repairs being done on the outer wall of the temple's tower. But your examination is drawn away as Queen Elora strides towards a small patch of green, where the priestesses tend to an array of herbs.<<if $chp5_temple_irus is true>> You already saw much of the gardens when Sargon led you through the temple earlier, but from the expression on Queen Elora's face, you can tell that she is seeing it for the first time.<<else>> The garden is an impressive thing, considering the glaring heat of the sun and you pick out a wide range of herbs that occupy the soil.<</if>> [[Next.|chp5_27b4]]

An older woman looks up from the garden, her eyes narrowing against the sun's brightness before she notices you and Queen Elora. She says something too low for you to hear before standing up and stepping towards you. Unlike the priestesses, the woman does not wear the same pale robes, instead, it is dyed red as though it had been dipped in blood. "You must be the ones Sargon brought to the temple," she notes. Queen Elora smiles, an expression you have seen her use when dealing with her courtiers. "I am Queen Elora and this is $name." The woman frowns slightly. "A queen and a peasant, how quaint." Something in her tone tells you that she finds nothing about your presence quaint. Dusting the soil from her hands, she fixes you with a hard look. Her eyes are nearly black in colour, making it difficult not to cower under her stare. "You seek an alliance," she states. "But I do not know why. Our people will not pledge our loyalty to a Cyre prince." <<set $chp5_27b4 to 0>> [["Prince Irus will help stop the war," you reply. "Isn't that enough?"|chp5_27b5][$chp5_27b4 +=1]] [["Why are you so hostile against us? We did not start this war," you retort.|chp5_27b5][$chp5_27b4 +=2]] [["What does it matter if someone is from Cyre or Ishari? The regions were once united as one before the war," you respond.|chp5_27b5][$chp5_27b4 +=3]]

<<if $chp5_27b4 is 1>> "Prince Irus will help stop the war," you reply. "Is that not enough?" She sneers at you, her dark eyes narrowing. "Our people will fight until we take our last breath. To trust a man simply because offers an alliance means nothing." Queen Elora frowns at the woman. "You would risk the lives of many for what, pride?" The woman turns her glare onto Queen Elora. There is frustration and pain that war within her gaze, a look that reminds you of your own feelings when you had to endure the hatred from those in Cyre. "Pride is what has gotten us this far," she hisses. "We will not be so easily swayed." <<elseif $chp5_27b4 is 2>> "Why are you so hostile against us? We did not start this war," you retort. She laughs, a throaty sound that comes out harsh. "No one started this war but a foolish tyrant who could not understand the ways of our people." "Prince Irus is nothing like his father," Queen Elora retorts. "Why will you not look past your hatred for Cyre for the chance at peace?" The woman scoffs at Queen Elora, her gaze narrowing in response. There is a deepness in her gaze that suggests her fury is only a mask for the great sorrows she must have endured. "Peace does not last," she replies. "You would be a fool to think that your Cyre prince would achieve anything more than his father did." <<elseif $chp5_27b4 is 3>> "What does it matter if someone is from Cyre or Ishari? The regions were once united as one before the war," you respond. The woman glances at you, her lips pressing into a deep scowl. You meether gaze, watching as a number of emotions flicker through her eyes - anger, sadness and beneath it all, pain. She is the first to look away, her expression darkening. "Perhaps in the days of old, things were different," she replies. "But there has been enough deaths to fill a river with blood. We cannot return to how we were, not when tyrants sit upon the throne of Cyre." "Prince Irus is no tyrant," Queen Elora retorts. "He will be different." The woman levels a glare at Queen Elora. "You cannot prove that nor can you prove that he will honour an alliance if we agree to it." <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_27b6]]

Another priestess, one who is much younger and wears the same white robes as the rest calls for the older woman. "Delondra, the patrols have found a few children in the northern district. Shall I take them to Anini?" The older woman - Delondra - sighs. "Yes, make sure that they are fed and given a room to sleep in. I will make arrangements with the nearby families to see who can take them in." Queen Elora frowns. "The children, are they-" "Orphans," Delondra interrupts. She shakes her head. "Many are either taken prisoner or killed and those who escape, find themselves living in the rubble of what used to be their homes." You remember when you fled Ishari with Mama as a child. Everything had been bathed in flames and smoke, the sight of destruction enough to make you dread returning. You cast a glance towards the children you had seen earlier, wondering if they too witnessed the same destructions as you had. <<set $chp5_27b7 to 0>> [["What happens to them after they are brought to the temple?" you ask, feeling a pang of sorrow for them.|chp5_27b7][$chp5_27b7 +=1]] [["Is there nowhere safer for them to go?" you question.|chp5_27b7][$chp5_27b7 +=2]] [["What about the rest of their families?" you query.|chp5_27b7][$chp5_27b7 +=3]]

<<if $chp5_27b7 is 1>> "What happens to them after they are brought to the temple?" you ask, feeling a pang of sorrow for them. Delondra's expression eases, the severity of her glare softening into something akin to pity as she glances at the children. "We do our best to give them some peace, but we cannot support them for too long. Most are taken in by the families who are willing to care for them and those that are not will become followers of the temple," she explains. <<elseif $chp5_27b7 is 2>> "Is there nowhere safer for them to go?" you question. Delondra scoffs. "And where might that be?" Queen Elora speaks before you can. "Lord Redall has been sending supplies to Ishari for years now. Why have you not requested for our aid in taking in the children?" "They have lost everything they have come to know," Delondra replies. "It is better for them to heal in a place they have come to know than a place that is as strange to them as the concept of losing their family." <<elseif $chp5_27b7 is 3>> "What about the rest of their families?" you query. Delondra glances at the children in the temple courtyard, a softness in her expression that had not been there before. She sighs and when she returns her attention onto you, you notice the gleam of anger in her eyes. "Most are killed," she explains. "But others... they are taken prisoner. The Blood Guard keep them confined on the other side of the river." "The other side of the river?" Queen Elora questions. Delondra shakes her head. "You will hear more about it tonight, I am certain." <</if>> Delondra pauses, her dark eyes meeting yours again. "You share the blood of an Ishari priestess." Your eyebrows furrow. "How-" "It's in your eyes, the divine power that your mother carried," she replies. "Not many are blessed by the Ancient Ones." You swallow, suddenly reminded of your mother. Perhaps Delondra knows something about her? <<set $chp5_27b7 to 0>> [[Ask her about your mother.|chp5_27b8][$chp5_27b7 +=1]] [[Do not ask her about your mother.|chp5_27b8][$chp5_27b7 +=2]]

<<if $chp5_27b7 is 1>> "Perhaps you know something about my mother?" you ask, suddenly hopeful. Delondra gazes at you, nodding. "Perhaps. Can you tell what her name was?" "Salyra," you reply. For a moment, Delondra's eyes widen slightly but then, she shakes her head, muttering under her breath. Her reaction is odd, something in the way she draws closer towards herself as if you have said something wrong. "What is it?" you ask. Delondra frowns. "It is nothing. I am sorry. I do not recognise the name. If you will excuse me, I must check on the children." She strides away, leaving you alone with more questions that answers. Queen Elora frowns at your side, her gaze following the older woman until she disappears into the temple. "That was strange," she murmurs. "Perhaps she does not want to talk to you about your mother, given the circumstances of your father?" You nod. "Perhaps." <<elseif $chp5_27b7 is 2>> You decide not to ask Delondra about your mother. Delondra does not seem like she would answer your question even if you asked, though there is a small part of you that is afraid to doscover that she knows what truly happened to your mother. For so long, you have lived your entire life<<if $motherdeath is true>> thinking that your mother is dead.<<elseif $motherdeath is false>> thinking that your mother is somewhere out there.<<elseif $mother_unsure is true>> not knowing what to think about your mother's absence.<</if>> Learning the truth now might only make things worse. Delondra sighs, before she nods at you and Queen Elora. "I should check on the children." She does not spare you a glance as she turns away, walking towards the temple and disappearing from view. Queen Elora glances at you, frowning. "It seems that she is unwilling to listen to the idea of an alliance," she murmurs. You can only nod, your mind still filled with thoughts of Mama. <</if>> Queen Elora glances at the sky, sighing deeply. "I should speak to Redall. Our belongings should have been brought to the temple by now." She casts you a small smile, one that you return before she heads into the temple in search of Lord Redall. [[Next.|chp5_27_landing]]

<<if $chp2_harbour_choice is 1>>Prince Irus glances at you, concern in his blue eyes. He pauses, slowing his steps until you are both standing side-by-side. Sir Oren walks ahead, seemingly unaware of the both of you. "Are you alright?" Prince Irus asks. <<set $chp2_55b_1 to 0>> [["The fishermen just remind me of my father," you reply. "It is still hard to come to terms with his death."|chp2_55b_2][$chp2_55b_1 +=1]] [["It is nothing," you say, forcing a smile to your face.|chp2_55b_2][$chp2_55b_1 +=2]] [["I'm fine," you mutter, irritated by his concern.|chp2_55b_2][$chp2_55b_1 +=3, $irusRel -=5]] [[You nod, unable to voice your feelings.|chp2_55b_2][$chp2_55b_1 +=4]] [["I do not know," you mumble.|chp2_55b_2][$chp2_55b_1 +=5]] <<elseif $chp2_harbour_choice is 2>>Sir Oren glances at you, his hazel eyes catching sight of your expression. His eyebrows furrow and he comes to stand beside you, his strides slowing so that you walk side-by-side. "You look thoughtful," Sir Oren murmurs. "Is something the matter?" You glance at Sir Oren and the open concern in his expression. Perhaps he pities you or perhaps, he genuinely cares about your well-being. <<set $chp2_55b_1 to 0>> [["The fishermen remind me of my father," you murmur. "He... he did not make it out of Salt Bay."|chp2_55b_2][$chp2_55b_1 +=6]] [["I am alright," you answer, not wanting to burden Sir Oren.|chp2_55b_2][$chp2_55b_1 +=7]] [["I do not need your concern," you snap.|chp2_55b_2][$chp2_55b_1 +=8, $orenRel -=5]] [["I do not know," you sigh. "It has been a lot to cope with in the past week."|chp2_55b_2][$chp2_55b_1 +=9]] [[You shake your head, unable to speak aloud your thoughts.|chp2_55b_2][$chp2_55b_1 +=10]]<</if>>

<<if $chp5_27c is 1>> "It is alright," you reply with a smile. "I should have called out to you first." He lets out a breath, the tension leaving his shoulders as he takes a small step backwards. Glancing at you, Sir Oren seems to look over you once more before nodding, as if to convince himself that you are in fact unharmed. "I am sorry, $name," he sighs. "My mind was elsewhere." There is a despondency in his voice, the tone hollow. Gazing at him, you find that there is a sadness in Sir Oren's hazel eyes, the look of a man who has been burdened by the weight of his responsibilities. You offer him a reassuring smile, reaching out to pat the side of his shoulder. "You need not apologise to me, Sir Oren," you respond. "I will not fault you for being lost in your thoughts." Sir Oren casts you a grateful look. "I worry about my family in Aspal. They are capable without me, but I feel as if I am abandoning them." You nod in understanding. The family you had only just discovered in Vinia are now a sea voyage away from you. It is difficult to leave behind a place, when there are those who you know await your return. Glancing at Sir Oren, you smile softly. "I am certain that they understand your duties, Sir Oren," you reply. "Let us hope that we will be able to return soon." <<elseif $chp5_27c is 2>> "You are always concerned about others," you murmur, warmed by his care. It is not something that you experienced much, growing up in Salt Bay. Your father's gruffness and the isolation of your childhood meant that the only times you experienced any form of affection came from slivers of memories from Mama. When you first came to Vinia, you had not known what to expect, but in a matter of weeks, you found a family and discovered what it feels like to be cared for. Your words seem to startle Sir Oren because he looks away, suddenly unable to meet your eyes. The beginnings of a warm flush begin to creep up his neck and you watch him fidget where he stands. "I suppose I am," Sir Oren murmurs. "Growing up as the eldest child, I had to take care of my sister and brother when they were still young." "It is a good thing that you care for others," you reply. "I have not been able to experience that for a long time." Sir Oren glances at you, a look of sorrow flickering through his eyes. "There are many who care for you, $name. I am only grateful that you would consider me as one of them." A smile flits across his features. You find yourself returning it as he lets go of you. You stand a little straighter, no longer as alone as you used to be. <<elseif $chp5_27c is 3>> "As a Captain, you should be more aware of your surroundings," you snap. "You could have hurt someone." Your voice comes out sharp, laced with irritation as you turn to regard Sir Oren. Instantly, he drops his hands from your shoulders and takes a step back. A flicker of unease fills his expression, his eyebrows furrowing as if he trying to decide how to respond to your words. A moment passes before he seems to settle on an answer. "Of course, $name," he mumbles. "You are right." You scowl. "Of course I am right." Sir Oren lets out a deep breath, his eyes hardening. "I have already apologised, $name." Your frustration builds until you feel pressure mounting in the centre of your chest. It is difficult to keep from screaming out at Sir Oren, the rage and tiredness from before coming down to this one moment. Sir Oren lets out a breath, suddenly glancing at you with a frown. You realise he is waiting for a response, but all you can manage is a frustrated huff. You are too tired, too drained. Everything feels like it has been weighing on you since you left Vinia. When was last time you slept well? With neither of you willing to break the silence, you stand in the hallway as you force down your frustration, <<elseif $chp5_27c is 4>> "Oh," you mumble, warming under his touch. "That is alright." His proximity to you is enough to quicken your pulse. His hands are warm against your shoulders, his grip steady as they guide you closer to him. You can feel his muscles flex beneath his sleeves, the air between you warming until you are certain that it is nearly as warm as your face. “Are you alright?” Sir Oren asks again. “You seem shaken." You do not know how to explain your flustering, but by the way his eyes scan your face, the hint of red across his cheeks, you realise that he is not immune to you either. A breath escapes Sir Oren, the touch brushing against your face until you can no longer tell where his begins and yours ends. "I... I am fine," you mumble, your voice barely a whisper. He gazes at you, the depths of his hazel eyes enough to drown you in them. With a soft smile, the flicker of warmth spreads through his expression and he reaches out, grazing the tips of his fingers along your cheek. A shudder runs through you and your knees grow weak. It is difficult to hear past the rushing of blood in your ears or to know what to say over the sound of your laboured breathing. Sir Oren is the first to draw away, his smile affectionate and the absence of his warmth, immense. "I am glad that you are unhurt," he murmurs. "I would not have been able to forgive myself if you were hurt because of my clumsiness." <<elseif $chp5_27c is 5>> "There is no need to apologise," you tease. "I do not mind our bodies pressing together." Sir Oren lets out a strangled sound, his eyes widening as he gazes at you. His cheeks darken, a red heat snaking along his neck to capture the rest of his face in its hold. You lean closer, enjoying the warmth of his body and the way his fingers tighten their grip around your shoulders. You breathe in his scent, the smell of musk and the sea. He shudders, the reverberations spreading through your bones and sending a thrill of excitment down your spine. Gazing at Sir Oren, you note the flecks of green in the brown of his eyes and let your fingers run across the roughness of his dark beard. A sharp breath escapes Sir Oren and he looks away, muttering something under his breath. "I..." he begins to say before pausing. "I am glad that you are unhurt." "Is that all?" you tease. Sir Oren's eyes find yours, his gaze warm and his expression open. You see the way he stares at you, reflected in the depths of his gaze. There is affection and warmth and something that goes beyond your understanding but leaves you breathless and heated to bask under his gaze. "Deities," he mutters. "I am not good with this, $name." Your smile softens, suddenly touched by the idea that you have managed to make Sir Oren a flustered mess by your simple flirting. "That is alright, Captain. I will be more than happy to take my time with you." His cheek grows warm under your touch, nearly scorching as you draw your hand away. But as you, Sir Oren grips your wrist, pressing his lips against the soft pads of your fingers, stunning you by the boldness of the gesture. "Thank you," he breathes, his voice against your fingers. <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_27c2]]

No longer surprised by your presence, Sir Oren lets out a breath, running his hand through the dark strands of his hair. "I am sorry, $name," he murmurs. "I was hoping to step outside the temple to see if the rest of the guards have arrived. I have not seen them since we left the ship." You frown in thought. "I was hoping to see more of the temple. Perhaps I can accompany you outside?" Sir Oren glances at you, smiling faintly. "I would be grateful for your company." "Then let us go," you respond. [[Next.|chp5_27c3]]

It is hot as you step into the courtyard, <<if $chp5_temple_elora is true>> perhaps even hotter than when you first ventured outside with Queen Elora.<<else>> the sun scorching the back of your neck with its heat.<</if>> Sir Oren swipes at his brow, his expression pinched into one of concern when he does not spot the rest of the Royal Vinian Guards. "I do not understand," he breathes. "They should have been here by now." He glances towards where some of the warriors have gathered around the main entrance to the temple. "Perhaps I can ask one of them if they know what is happening." Sir Oren strides towards the warriors. There seems to be no uniformity in ages of the warriors, some are nearly as old as Sargon while others seem to be a few years younger than you. They each hold a spear in their hands, the weapon made of wood and a three-pointed tip at the end. One of the warriors, a woman who wears gleaming armour turns at Sir Oren's approach, her eyebrows furrowing. "You are not permitted to leave the temple, stranger. Return to the main courtyard." Sir Oren frowns. "I was not trying to leave. I was hoping to learn about the whereabouts of the rest of my guards." She eyes Sir Oren, casting him an impressive nod. "You are a fighter, yes? Then you will understand that we cannot permit armed soldiers into our temple without first deciding if you and your people are worthy allies." "Where are they?" Sir Oren demands. "Do not trouble yourself, Vinian Warrior," she replies. "They are safe. We will permit them entry once we have established whether we can trust you." <<set $chp5_27c3 to 0>> [["And when will that be?" you ask, frowning at the implication of being isolated from the rest of the guards.|chp5_27c4][$chp5_27c3 +=1]] [["How do you expect to build trust if you are treating us as prisoners?" you demand.|chp5_27c4][$chp5_27c3 +=2]] [["What about our belongings?" you question. "Will it still be brought to us?"|chp5_27c4][$chp5_27c3 +=3]]

<<if $chp5_27c3 is 1>> "And when will that be?" you ask, frowning at the implication of being isolated from the rest of the guards. The woman glances at you, as if suddenly realising you were standing next to Sir Oren the entire time. Her lips purse, as her eyes take in your appearance and then deciding that she is not pleased with what she sees. "You should not be with them, $heir of Ishari," she states. "We are not your enemies." You are uncertain how to respond to her words, your mind working over their meaning. But before you can speak, the woman lets out a breath. "After the meeting," she answers. "The meeting tonight?" you ask. "The very same one," she replies. <<elseif $chp5_27c3 is 2>> "How do you expect to build trust if you are treating us as prisoners?" you demand. The woman's grip on her spear tightens and she is suddenly glaring at you. Sir Oren tenses beside you, as if readying himself for an attack, but it does not come. The woman sneers, her eyes taking in your appearance before she seems to decide that she does not like what she sees. "You speak like them, but you are a $heir of Ishari," she retorts. "We are treating you with more respect than we have received from the people of Cyre. Do not tempt us into treating you like true prisoners." Sir Oren speaks, as if trying to placate the warrior. "$name meant no offence. We are only trying to come to an agreement on an alliance between the warring regions." The woman shrugs. "That will come after tonight." "Tonight?" you ask. She huffs, "The meeting. You will prove yourselves worthy tonight." <<elseif $chp5_27c3 is 3>> "What about our belongings?" you question. "Will it still be brought to us?" Your words seem to draw the woman's attention onto you, her eyes narrowing when she takes in your appearance. She seems to decide that she does not like what she sees, her lips pulling into a frown. "You are a $heir of Ishari," she states. Looking at Sir Oren before returning her gaze onto you, she shakes her head. "Your belongings are safe." You think about the jade box your father left you. Despite your feelings towards him, it was the only thing that you had to remember him by. You can only hope that the letters and the box do not get destroyed. The woman seems to notice your expression. "They will be brought to you tonight, after the meeting," she explains. "The meeting?" you ask. "Our people will judge you for themselves to determine if an alliance is possible," she explains. <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_27c5]]

Sargon mentioned earlier that the rest of the people of the temple will be meeting you tonight. You cannot help but wonder if the meeting is only a farce and that at the end of it, the possibility of an alliance will be trampled upon. Sir Oren glances at the rest of the warriors, raising his eyebrows. "And this meeting, what are we to expect?" The woman scoffs. "It is what we say it is, a meeting between our people and yours. We will determine if you are trustworthy or not." <<set $chp5_27c5 to 0>> [["You said that we have to prove ourselves worthy," you say. "What do you mean by that?"|chp5_27c6][$chp5_27c5 +=1]] [["Who will be making the decision on whether we are trustworthy?" you question.|chp5_27c6][$chp5_27c5 +=2]] [["If is decided that we are trustworthy, will you agree on the alliance?" you ask.|chp5_27c6][$chp5_27c5 +=3]]

<<if $chp5_27c5 is 1>> "You said that we have to prove ourselves worthy," you say. "What do you mean by that?" The warrior looks at you and frowns. "It means that you must show us that you are not here to use us for your own gain." "Of course we are not here to do that," Sir Oren responds. "Lord Redall has been helping you for years now. Surely that proves our commitment to helping Ishari." "It shows the support of //Vinia//, not the exiled prince," she corrects. "He will need to show us that he is willing to help those of us who have been injured in the war his father created." "He will do that," you reply. The woman glances at you, as if uncertain what to make of your reply. A moment passes before she shrugs. "It is easy to say something for another," she replies. "But I would rather hear it from him tonight." <<elseif $chp5_27c5 is 2>> "Who will be making the decision on whether we are trustworthy?" you question. The warrior glances at you, gesturing towards the others who are gathered around the temple courtyard. "All of us who are old enough will make the decision," she explains. <<elseif $chp5_27c5 is 3>> "If is decided that we are trustworthy, will you agree on the alliance?" you ask. A thoughtful look flickers through the warrior's face and she gazes at you, as if trying to come up with an answer to your question. Her hesitation puts you on edge, as though there is something beyond the meeting tonight that is expected of you. "Perhaps," she answers. "But it is not my decision alone." Sir Oren speaks then, his voice cutting through the tension. "And what do you think will happen? Are your people willing to form an alliance with His Highness?" The woman scoffs, "You are Vinian, yet you still grovel to the exiled prince. He is no one's king here. Not until we are certain that he will not betray us like his father." <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_27c7]]

The warrior lets out a breath, her grip on her spear loosening. Whatever she must have sensed from both you and Sir Oren, it appears that she longer views you as a threat. "There are many who are wary of your group being here," she explains. "We have faced much pain in the years since the war began so you must understand us taking caution." She lowers her voice. "But we are tired of fighting even if there are those who deny it. If you prove to be valuable and honourable allies, we will not forget it." Sir Oren nods in response, but the warrior's attention shifts onto you. Her eyes study your features, settling on your eyes. "You did not grow up in Ishari, did you?" she asks. "No," you reply. "How did you know?" "Your accent," she replies. Then a small smile pulls at her lips. "And your eyes." <<set $chp5_27c7 to 0>> [["My eyes?" you ask. "I have heard that before many times."|chp5_27c8][$chp5_27c7 +=1]] [["I have my father's eyes," you remark, frowning at her.|chp5_27c8][$chp5_27c7 +=2]] [["What is so special about my eyes?" you demand.|chp5_27c8][$chp5_27c7 +=3]]

<<if $chp5_27c7 is 1>> "My eyes?" you ask. "I have heard that before many times." The warrior nods in understanding. "It is not a common thing to be blessed by the Ancient Ones." "Blessed?" you ask. <<if $spiritual_ancient lte 50>> You are not a firm believer of the Ancient Ones, so it is difficult to take the warrior's words with any form of seriousness.<<elseif $spiritual_ancient gt 50>>You have believed in the Ancient Ones, but even so, you have never heard anything about the blessings of the Ancient Ones before.<</if>> "Those are devout will be blessed by divine powers from the Ancient Ones," the warrior explains. "Our High Priestess-" She stops short, her face twisting into something that resembles anger and grief. You frown, staring at her. "What is it?" you question. She shakes her head. "Nothing. You will learn more after the meeting." <<elseif $chp5_27c7 is 2>> "I have my father's eyes," you remark, frowning at her. She laughs, the sound suddenly light compared to her curt demeanour. It takes you by surprise and when she finally turns to regard you, you find a amusement in her gaze. "I am not talking about the colour," she replies. "It is the divinity in your blood that makes your eyes glow." Sir Oren glances at you, his eyes widening. "My Adda used to talk about that when I was younger. He used to say that those blessed by the Ancient Ones often wielded powers beyond what most are capable of." The warrior nods. "Your Captain is right. You have the blood of the divine." <<if $spiritual_ancient gte 50>> The presence of the Ancient Ones is not something that you can disregard, but it has been years since you were last in Ishari. You doubt that you carry any divine skills.<<elseif $spiritual_ancient lt 50>> You find it doubtful that you possess any form of divine powers, especially when your belief in the Ancient Ones is not as strong as devout worshippers.<</if>> "Perhaps now that you are here, you can learn from the High Priestess-" she stops suddenly, her eyebrows furrowing. "What is it?" you question. She scowls. "Nothing. I misspoke." <<elseif $chp5_27c7 is 3>> "What is so special about my eyes?" you demand. The warrior glances at you. Her eyes meet yours, an intensity levelled at you that makes you inwardly cower. She huffs, frowning at your expression, perhaps expecting something more from you. "You do not know much about the blood you carry," she mutters. "Many have prayed for years for the divine blessings of the Ancient Ones, yet you squander it." "I do not know what you are talking about," you retort. She points at your eyes. "Your eyes shine with the divine blood that only a few are blessed with. Those who are said to be devout followers of the Ancient Ones are granted their skills in return." <<if $spiritual_ancient gte 50>> You have always known that there was more truth than mystery to the Ancient Ones, but you had never expected to possess any divine power.<<elseif $spiritual_ancient lt 50>> You have never firmly believed in the Ancient Ones and the concept that you carry any divine blood in your is almost laughable.<</if>> "I have never done anything that could be considered divine," you anwer. The warrior scoffs. "You cannot simply have divine blood. You must train, learning how to use it. The High Priestess is better at explaining this. She-" Her words stop, as if the mention of the High Priestess startles her. You frown, examining her expression but the warrior only seems to close up more against your stare. "Who is the High Priestess?" you ask. "No one that concerns you," she mutters. <</if>> She turns away from you and Sir Oren, making certain to block the way out of the temple courtyard. Sir Oren lets out a breath in response, glancing at you. "I think I will talk to Redall and Her Majesty about this," he explains. "We did not prepare to be kept inside the temple. If anything were to go wrong, we will need a plan." You nod in response. "I agree." "I will seek Redall out first," Sir Oren explains. "We can talk talk later, $name." He walks away from you, leaving you alone once more. [[Next.|chp5_27_landing]]

<<if $chp5_27d is 1>> "I was looking for you," you admit, offering her a small smile. Anu stares at you for a moment, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion before she slowly eases her grip against you. As she takes a few steps back, you realise that she is <<if $height is "tall">>nearly the same height as you.<<elseif $height is "average">>at least a head taller than you.<<elseif $height is "short">>much taller than you, nearly looming over you.<</if>> "We are not friends, $name," she mutters, but her voice lacks the hardness of her words. "I do not trust you." "Why not?" you ask. "I am only trying to help." Anu frowns. "No one asked for your help." "Prince Irus-" Anu's lips twist into a scowl. "Why do you follow him around? He is nothing but the heir of a tyrant." "He will make a better ruler than his uncle," you reply. "And I know that he would stop the war." A snort escapes Anu. "I doubt that. He is weak, $name. He will be unable to stop much." <<elseif $chp5_27d is 2>> "I was lost," you answer, shrugging. Anu stares at you, as if searching your expression for deception. You meet her gaze with the beginnings of a frown, wondering how long you will have to endure her scrutiny when she finally takes a step away from you. It is only when she is a few paces away from you that you realise that she is <<if $height is "tall">>nearly the same height as you.<<elseif $height is "average">>at least a head taller than you.<<elseif $height is "short">>much taller than you, nearly looming over you.<</if>> "I hope for your sake that you are not lying," she mutters. "Why would I lie about being lost?" you question. "I was only trying to find you." Anu startles at your admission, her grey eyes flicking towards your face for a moment. A second passes before the tension in her shoulders eases, her stance not nearly as intimidating as it had been before. "Well, here I am," she replies. "Were you trying to find out information on me to take back to your //prince//?" "Of course not," you retort. Anu scowls. "Then why seek me out? I thought it was clear that this alliance will not work." <<elseif $chp5_27d is 3>> "Get your hands off of me," you spit, shoving her grip off. Anu stumbles back, her eyes flashing with a dangerous glint. She glares at you, the rage that simmers beneath her expression enough to give you pause. Yet, you do not look away, fury filling you until you are certain that you will burst into flames. "You are like a child," she mutters. "If you were anyone else, I would have had you writhing in pain, but to fight you is to fight a defenceless worm." Her words are goading, the taunt in her voice causing your fingers to curl into your palms. You want to lash out at her, to bury your fists into her face. But you stop yourself. There is is still an alliance to make. Perhaps after tonight's meeting, you will get your chance to finally put Anu into her place. "You're nothing but a brute," you snap. "You taunt and poke at people because that is all you will ever be." Anu scowls, her eyes darkening with ire. She glowers at you and reaches to her side before stopping when her fingers meet air. Muttering a curse beneath her breath, she jabs at your chest with her finger. This close, you realise that she is <<if $height is "tall">>nearly the same height as you.<<elseif $height is "average">>at least a head taller than you.<<elseif $height is "short">>much taller than you, nearly looming over you.<</if>> "Be grateful that I am not carrying Atses' Heart today or I swear to you that you would have met the Gabus before your time," she spits. <<elseif $chp5_27d is 4>> You suddenly feel hot with her pressing you against the wall like that. It is hard to breathe with her this close. You can make out the faint smell of cloves on her breath and the way her hair seems to frame her chin in a way that makes her cheekbones more angular. She is beautiful, you think, and then chide yourself for thinking it. Anu does not pull away, instead she takes her time to equally inspect you and you do not know what is worse, the pull of her lips into a smirk or the fact that it is evident in her gaze that is all too aware that you have been staring at her in appreciation. "What is the matter?" she asks, her breath warm against your face. "Are you so afraid of me?" She is jesting by the way her shoulders shake with silent laughter but you cannot meet her gaze. Your mouth is dry and your palms clammy. You think that she must be able to hear your heartbeat, the thudding so loud that it is enough to drown out the rush of blood in your ears. "I... no," you stammer. Anu's fingers brush the edge of your face, her fingers curling around your chin. "No? Then why are you trembling?" You gaze up at her and this close, you realise that she is <<if $height is "tall">>nearly the same height as you.<<elseif $height is "average">>at least a head taller than you.<<elseif $height is "short">>much taller than you, nearly looming over you.<</if>> "You caught me by surprise," you answer, but your voice is weak, as if you too are uncertain of your response. "You must forgive me, //my sweet//," she breathes. "If I had known that this was the effect I would have had on you, I would have announced my presence." There is nothing apologetic in her eyes or the way she smirks at you and when she finally takes a step back, you instantly miss the loss of her heat. <<elseif $chp5_27d is 5>> "I think I am already where I want to be," you murmur, smirking at her. Your teasing seems to catch Anu by surprise, but the surprise quickly is replaced by something eager and hungry. Being pinned under the intensity of her grey eyes sends shivers down your spine and you cannot help but lean closer, breathing in the heat of her body flushed against yours. "You are not what I expected," Anu murmurs, her eyes drifting over your features as if she is drinking in your sight. "It is a pity that we have only met now, but I assure you that I will make up for the lost time." Her words send a thrill down your spine, a whirl of excitement flooding your stomach as you gaze at her. This close to each other, you realise that Anu is <<if $height is "tall">>nearly the same height as you.<<elseif $height is "average">>at least a head taller than you.<<elseif $height is "short">>much taller than you, nearly looming over you.<</if>> "And what do you intend to do?" you ask, smirking. She laughs, the sound so different to the hardness from earlier. "Do not sound so eager, //my sweet//, or I might have to show you in the middle of the hallway where anyone could see." It is difficult not to reach out and grab Anu as she finally steps away, her eyes glimmering with amusement as she gazes upon you. Whatever may come, you are looking forward to spending more time with the priestess. <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_27d2]]

Anu glances at you, her eyebrow raising. "Why were you looking for me?" You suddenly remember that you had sought her out to learn more about the temple. Staring at Anu now, you wonder if asking her to show you more of the temple is worthwhile, considering her frown of suspicion earlier. "I wanted to see more of the temple," you explain. "And perhaps learn more about its people." "There is nothing more to see than the walls around you," Anu replies. "If you are expecting something other than that, I am afraid you will be disappointed." "What about the people?" you ask. "They are uninterested in you and your group," she retorts. "I would suggest you do not bother them." You frown. "Then what am I expected to do?" Anu hesitates, casting you a glance before striding down the hallway. When you do not follow, she turns and stares at you. "Are you not coming?" she calls. [[Follow after her.|chp5_27d3]] [[You shake your head in disagreement, wanting nothing more to do with Anu.|chp5_27_landing]]

Anu's strides are long and fast, making it difficult to keep pace when you do not know where she is leading you. The hallways become narrower and you realise after a few steps, that she is leading you towards the upper levels of the temple. The hallways here are wider than the ones below, windows letting in the afternoon sunlight filter through as you walk past. Against the walls, you note painted murals and those made out of coloured glass, depicting Ehulla and what you note to be her worshippers. Anu glances at your inspection and offers you a proud smile. "Many of these are from when the temple was originally built," she explains. "We have managed to maintain most of the artwork and carvings from before the war." You nod in response, marvelling at the detail and intricate designs of the murals. It is far different to the temple that you and Prince Irus sought refuge in when you fled Salt Bay, here it is clear that the worship of Ehulla has not been tarnished by the Blood Guard or the war. [[Next.|chp5_27d4]]

Anu leads you up a set of stone stairs, a small door at the end. Pushing it open, she steps out into the sunlight and you follow, breathing the smell of fresh air. You realise that you are standing on one of the flat roofs of the temple, overlooking the rest of the city of Urur beyond the temple courtyard. The roof is only slightly wider than your shoulders but its width is more than adequate to stand on. Anu begins pointing out the different buildings, small mud brick homes and taller stone buildings that resemble a time from before the war. There is a sense of pride in Anu's voice, nothing like the hostility from before and when you peer at her expression, you find a faint smile on her lips. <<set $chp5_27d4 to 0>> [["You care deeply for Ishari," you comment, studying her face.|chp5_27d5][$chp5_27d4 +=1, $anuRel +=5]] [["It is strange seeing you so calm when you speak," you breathe.|chp5_27d5][$chp5_27d4 +=2, $anuRel +=5]] [["It is just a city," you huff. "There is nothing so special about it."|chp5_27d5][$chp5_27d4 +=3, $anuRel -=5]] [[♡"Thank you for showing me the city," you murmur, taken in by her smile.|chp5_27d5][$chp5_27d4 +=4, $anuRel +=5, $anuRom +=5, $shy_anu +=5]] [[♡"You look quite striking when you speak so openly," you remark, grinning at her expression.|chp5_27d5][$chp5_27d4 +=5, $anuRel +=5, $anuRom +=5, $bold_anu +=5]]

<<if $chp5_27d4 is 1>> "You care deeply for Ishari," you comment, studying her face. Anu glances at you, smiling softly. The expression surprises you, her eyes fillwed with warm and something that resembles gratitude as she gazes at the streets below the temple. A cool breeze brushes against the short strands of her hair and she runs her fingers against it, smoothing away the straight strands. "Urur has been my home for a long time," she responds. "Others might see a city that has been targeted by the Blood Guard but when I look at at the people and the buildings, I see home." You nod, thinking about your own time in Salt Bay. Though you were never accepted in Salt Bay, you had come to know the smell of the sea and the days when Ahlf would bring back his haul of fish. Leaving Salt Bay introduced you to a life where you had family and did not have to fear the stares that came from your mixed heritage, but it is difficult to rid yourself of the memories of a place that you spent so many years in. "I understand," you reply. "Urur is the place you know." Anu glances at you, smiling faintly. For a moment, it does not feel like you are talking to a stranger, but someone who has seen you and known everything that you have felt. <<elseif $chp5_27d4 is 2>> "It is strange seeing you so calm when you speak," you breathe. You expect a snide comment or a glower from Anu, but she lets out a huff of a breath, laughter in her eyes as she turns to look at you. There is a lightness in her expression that you have not truly seen before, something that makes her look younger than the priestess who greeted you at the docks. "You need not look so shocked, $name," she replies. "I am not always so wrathful." You manage to return her smile, her laughter finding you and stretching the tension from your bones until you find that you can breathe again. Examining Anu again, you realise that she cannot be much older than you yet, it seems as if she has experienced far more than you ever have. "What is it like in Urur?" you question. Anu shrugs. "It is better than most places in Ishari. Both the capital, Sangasu and the desert city of Ekur have not fared as well as Urur against the Blood Guard." "Why is that?" you ask, curious. Anu glances at you, raising an eyebrow. "You do not know much about Ishari." She grins as if amused by your ignorance. "They are closer to the bridge that connects us to Cyre." <<elseif $chp5_27d4 is 3>> "It is just a city," you huff. "There is nothing so special about it." Prodding at Anu seems only to make her upset and now is no different. She turns to your, the serene expression on her face twisting into something cold and dangerous. She draws towards you, her eyes a swirling storm of anger. "You are so infuriating," she spits. "Why do you continue to speak? If I were not a revered priestess, I would have thrown you off the roof." You make a face at her. "You do not frighten me." Anu grunts, the sound a strangled cry in the back of her throat. She tugs at her hair as if trying to keep herself from lashing out at you and you watch with faint amusement as she struggles to maintain her composure. Even though she could have hurt you, you cannot deny the pleasure in riling up the priestess. <<elseif $chp5_27d4 is 4>> "Thank you for showing me the city," you murmur, taken in by her smile. Her grey eyes regard you with a hint of warmth, her smile softening into a gentle expression. She tilts her head, the short strands of her hair brushing against her face as a breeze slithers past you. You cannot look away, no matter how dry your mouth feels or how loudly your heart thumps. It is only you and Anu now and the thought sends shivers down your spine. She steps closer to you and you suddenly become aware of just how cramped the tiny roof is, just how easily it would be to accidentally brush against her. A look of amusement flickers through her grey eyes, her gaze roaming over your features. "You are foolishly kind, $name," she murmurs, her voice low. "I could have done anything to you up here, yet you still followed me." The implication of her words should alarm you, but the way Anu stares at you, her fingers dancing up your arm, you cannot help but shudder. Your breathing quickens, your pulse jumping against her fingers' slow journey across your skin. You want to pull away and at the same time, you want to remain with her for all eternity. "I..." you breathe, stopping as Anu presses her fingers to your lips. She leans forward and you think she might kiss you, but then she is smirking and drawing away. You are suddenly flustered and yearning, your body aching for something more. "You are so eager," she murmurs, grinning at you. "It is an attractive quality to have, my sweet." <<elseif $chp5_27d4 is 5>> "You look quite striking when you speak so openly," you remark, grinning at her expression. Anu raises an eyebrow at you, her own lips drawing into a smile as she gazes at you. You enjoy the way the wind ruffles her dark strands of hair, the way the sun makes her grey eyes seem nearly as pale as the clouds above you. She is beautiful and strong and a surge of heat settles in the pit of your stomach. By the look on her face, you realise that she is feeling quite similarly towards you. Her steps are long, a drawn-out thing that takes too long for when Anu steps towards you, you are already expecting the heat of her skin and the touch of her fingers around your chin. She gazes at you, her grey eyes dancing with mirth and her lips pulling to reveal the glint of her teeth. "Has no one told you that you should not flirt so openly with a person? They might get the wrong idea," she teases. "Oh?" you reply. "And what idea might you be getting?" The hand at your chin moves down your neck until it finds its place against the bare skin where your neck and shoulder meet, her fingers drawing a sharp breath from your lips. Your heart thunders beneath your chest and there is a strange buzzing in your ears, the sound drowning everything else out as all rational thoughts fade away. Her hand lowers around your waist, her eyes filling with mirth and longing as she gazes at you. Yet, she seems almost reluctant to do anything more than hold you. "Many ideas, my sweet," she breathes. "But ideas must wait for another time." She draws away, the sudden loss of her warmth noticeable even against the heat of the sun. <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_27d6]]

There is a strange moment of quiet between you, when neither of you speak. Below, you hear the chatter of the priestesses rise up to where you stand and farther still, the distant sound of the sea finds you. You gaze across the temple roof, your eyes lingering on the shadowy outline of the Her Majesty's Crescent, the ship that carried you to Ishari. Anu is the first to speak, as if the quietness agitates her. "Tell me the truth, $name. Are you truly hoping for an alliance tonight or does your exiled prince only want support against his uncle?" Her words startle you and you stare at her. <<set $chp5_27d6 to 0>> [["He wants to make an alliance that will benefit both Ishari and Cyre," you answer.|chp5_27d7][$chp5_27d6 +=1]] [["What does it matter?" you question. "If you support him and Virion is removed from the throne, the war will end."|chp5_27d7][$chp5_27d6 +=2]] [["Why do you doubt the possibility of an alliance?" you ask.|chp5_27d7][$chp5_27d6 +=3]]

<<if $chp5_27d6 is 1>> "He wants to make an alliance that will benefit both Ishari and Cyre," you answer. Anu snorts, not quite irritated but certainly displeased by your reply. "You cannot benefit everyone equally, $name." "But is it not worth trying?" you ask. "An alliance would save so many from death. It would give the rest of Ishari an opportunity to thrive instead of simply surviving." Anu rounds on you, her eyes narrowing. "Do not talk to me about survival. We have endured much, $name. We will be able to withstand anything the Blood Guard throws at us." You frown. "Then why even accept us into the city and talk to us?" She looks away, frowning. "It was my father's idea. He thinks that peace is attainable." <<elseif $chp5_27d6 is 2>> "What does it matter?" you question. "If you support him and Virion is removed from the throne, the war will end." "You cannot promise that, $name," she replies. "Perhaps your exiled prince will take the throne, but how will he stop the war?" You open your mouth to answer, but Anu waves away your words with her hand. She turns away, her gaze on the city below you. There is a look of tiredness in her expression, one that speaks of a woman who has had to fight all her life and will continue to fight until her last breath. "He takes the throne and declares the war is ended," she breathes. "Or he could decide that he enjoys the taste of power like his father and condemn us to Gabus' realm." "He is not like that," you retort. Anu scoffs, "No one is like what they seem when they are weak. Give a weak man a strand of power and watch as he grasps and pulls until he is waging wars and killing innocents." <<elseif $chp5_27d6 is 3>> "Why do you doubt the possibility of an alliance?" you ask. Anu looks at you, raising an eyebrow. "Why do you believe that an alliance will work?" "It will stop the war," you say. Anu laughs, a dry sound that is mocking. "Your exiled prince is not the king nor does he wield power in Cyre. Once he fights his uncle and defeats him, who will bow to him? No one swore fealty to him and when he returns, no one will accept him as king." "That is why we need an alliance," you reply. "If he had the support of Ishari, he would be able to convince the the rest of Cyre that the realm is better united." Anu casts you a pained look. "You sound like my father, talks of peace and unity, but look around you, $name. We are in a war and a war simply does not end because of an alliance." <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_27d8]]

Anu sighs, glancing at the courtyard below before she turns to fix you with a strange expression. Something flickers through her grey eyes, an emotion you cannot be quite certain of before it is gone. She walks towards the door she led you through, gesturning for you to follow. "I need to return to the other priestesses," she explains. "You will have to go back to the main part of the temple. Only priestesses and those trusted are allowed up here." <<if $anuRel gte 55>> She pushes the door, peering at you. "If you are truly set on this alliance to work, you must prove yourself tonight, $name." You frown in confusion, but Anu does not say more as she steps through the door.<<else>> Anu steps through the door and you find yourself following after her.<</if>> [[Next.|chp5_27_landing]]

You follow<<if $irus_lock is true>> Prince Irus<<else>> Sir Oren<</if>> to the main chamber of the temple. The priestesses and warriors that Sargon mentioned earlier have gathered in the chamber, wooden benches set along the floors as they turn to stare at your group. There is a low murmur of voices, and whispers amongst the gathered worshippers as they regard each of you in turn. Not all are nearly as hostile as you imagined they would be to see Prince Irus amongst your group, but some sneer at his appearance, perhaps already having made up their minds on the alliance. Sargon calls out to the rest of those gathered, commanding their attention. "Devout worshippers and warriors, tonight we have been offered an opportunity at peace by the Cyre-born Prince Irus." There is cacophony of voices, jeering and shouting, nearly deafening you where you stand. Casting a glance at Prince Irus, you catch a flicker of doubt in his gaze. "Enough!" Sargon commands. "We have been at war for too long. Tonight, we may have the chance to change our fates. We have a chance to stop the bloodshed and save our children from the despair that we have all faced." Sargon pauses to listen to the crowd. You can tell from the way he holds himself that he has spent much time working through the words before saying them. He knows how important this is for his people and then, he glances at Prince Irus. "Prince Irus, will you address the people of Ishari?" Sargon asks. [[Next.|chp5_30]]

Prince Irus stiffens, his eyes widening slightly.<<if $irus_lock is true>> He glances at you and you note the nervousness in his face, the way he seems to reach out to grip your hand and then thinks better of it before turning away.<<elseif $irusRel gte 65>> He glances at you, trepidation in his expression and he opens his mouth as if to say something, before thinking better of it and turning away.<<else>> He lets out a sharp breath, the sound shaky in the back of his throat before he glances out at the gathered faces.<</if>> Striding to where Sargon waits, Prince Irus turns towards the temple's residents. They stare at him, unimpressed by his appearance and you wonder vaguely if a crown on his head would have changed their opinion of him. <<if $irus_lead_style gt 50>> "I come to you, people of Ishari in a time of great strife," he speaks. "My uncle stole the throne from me and now, he sends the Blood Guard after me." The room is quiet. But Prince Irus continues, undeterred. "Under the reign of my uncle, many innocent lives of Cyre have been lost, people have been slaughtered and cities have been stolen. It is time to stop running and to start fighting back," Prince Irus announces. "Join me, people of Ishari and I will give you the freedom you have always sought when I am made king. We will reclaim what was stolen from us both through whatever means possible." <<elseif $irus_lead_style lt 50>> "People of Ishari, this war between our realms have gone on for too long," Prince Irus announces. "We have fought a war over the belief of gods and the control of land." The room is quiet, though many nod at Prince Irus' words. "Today, I come to you seeking an alliance that will forge a bridge between our people. I ask that you look past our history and differences and support me when I reclaim the throne from my uncle. He does not care for Ishari nor does he care about the well-being of others. I promise you that when I am made king, I will give Ishari back its freedom and end the war that has taken innocent lives for decades. Together, we will finally know peace between our regions." <<else>> "People of Ishari," Prince Irus speaks. "I come to you not as an enemy, but as a possible ally in the war against the Blood Guard. When my uncle stole the throne from me, he sent the very same soldiers who have caused suffering in Ishari, after me." There is a mixture of whispers and nods in the crowd. "Tonight, I come to you as I seek to reclaim my rightful place in Cyre. I implore you to look past our differences in order to unite under one, so that we may take back what was stolen from us. Together, we will use every means possible to secure lasting peace." <</if>> <<set $chp5_30>> [[You smile, proud of Prince Irus.|chp5_31][$chp5_30 +=1]] [[Whatever happens, you will continue to support Prince Irus.|chp5_31][$chp5_30 +=2]] [[You glance at the gathered crowd, nervous about their reaction.|chp5_31][$chp5_30 +=3]] [[You can only hope that Prince Irus has done enough to sway the people of Ishari in his favour.|chp5_31][$chp5_30 +=4]]

<<if $chp5_30 is 1>> There is a surge of pride that fills you as you gaze at Prince Irus. Knowing that he has come this far since the start of your journey shows just how much he has changed over the weeks that you have travelled together. Perhaps he has not always thought he would make a good ruler, but looking at him now, you are certain that he will make a good king. <<elseif $chp5_30 is 2>> There is no real way to know if Prince Irus has swayed the people of Ishari or if he will gather more allies in the coming weeks, but as you look at him, you know that he will always have your support. He has changed in the time that you met him to where he stands now. There is a determination in his gaze, a sense to reclaim his throne that had been taken away by his uncle and no matter what happens, you will be by his side. <<elseif $chp5_30 is 3>> Your eyes dart towards the priestesses and warriors who have gathered around the main chamber. There are whispers and pointed looks, but none seem to convey their true feelings. It is difficult to know what they are thinking and whether what Prince Irus said is enough to garner their trust. A swirl of nervousness fills your stomach, the twisting and pulling enough to make you bury your fingers into your palms. <<elseif $chp5_30 is 4>> You know that Prince Irus will be unable to defeat his uncle without the aid of others, but Queen Elora and Sir Oren are not nearly enough to help win a war against Virion and the Blood Guard. Gaining allies is the only way to overcome the obstacle that they pose and as you glance at the people of Ishari, you can only hope that what Prince Irus has said is enough to garner their support. <</if>> There is a moment of silence and Sargon nods at Prince Irus, an impressed look on his face. "What do you have to say?" Sargon asks, addressing the gathered faces. "Will we lend our support to Prince Irus?" No one speaks, and then, Anu is striding towards Sargon. Her eyes are narrowed as she regards Prince Irus. "We cannot support someone simply because he has offered us flowery words." "Anu-" Sargon begins, but she interrupts him. "Prove yourselves worthy and help us free our prisoners," Anu spits. "Do this, and you will have the support of our people." There is a chorus of agreements from those around you and you share an uneasy look with your group. Anu glances at you,<<if $anuRel lte 50>> frowning slightly<<elseif $anuRel gt 50>> her gaze softening slightly<</if>>. "What are you asking of us?" Queen Elora questions, her eyebrows furrowing. "Lend us some of your warriors," Anu answers. Then her eyes dart towards you again. "And send $name with us." It takes you a moment before you realise that... <<set $chp5_31 to 0>><<if $irusRel gte 65>> [[...Prince Irus is shouting in objection.|chp5_32][$chp5_31 +=1]]<</if>> <<if $eloraRel gte 65>> [[...Queen Elora is shouting in objection.|chp5_32][$chp5_31 +=2]]<</if>> <<if $orenRel gte 65>> [[...Sir Oren is shouting in objection.|chp5_32][$chp5_31 +=3]]<</if>> <<if $irusRel lte 65 and $eloraRel lte 65 and $orenRel lte 65>> [[...you are shouting out in objection.|chp5_32][$chp5_31 +=4]]<</if>>

<<if $chp5_31 is 1>> "No," Prince Irus retorts. "You cannot ask $name to put $MChis life at risk for your cause." Anu sneers at Prince Irus, her grey eyes flashing with a dangerous glint. "You expect us to support you when you will not support us? I //knew// that you were a coward." Prince Irus scowls, his blue eyes narrowing. You notice the way his hands curl at his sides, the frustration and what looks like panic, filling his expression. "I will go instead," he replies. "Leave $name out of your plans." Anu scoffs, fixing Prince Irus with a glare. "You are a face well-known by the Blood Guard, bastard." She glances at you. "$name can pass as a full-blooded Ishari, $MChe will not raise any suspicions if we get spotted." <<elseif $chp5_31 is 2>> "You cannot ask $name to put $MChis life at risk," Queen Elora replies. She moves to stand beside you. "I will not allow it." Anu glances at Queen Elora, amusement flashing in her grey eyes as she regards her words. A moment passes, before Anu points at you. "This is $name's decision, not yours, Your Majesty," Anu retorts. "You hold no power in Ishari." Queen Elora scowls, her lips twisting as she glares at Anu. Perhaps another person might have cowered under Queen Elora's gaze, but not Anu. The priestess merely raises an eyebrow, her lips pulling into a languid smirk. "You can have the members of the Royal Vinian Guard, but leave $name out of your task," Queen Elora replies. Anu shakes her head. "Guards are well and good, but they are not loyal to the prince. Send us $name and we will accept your alliance upon our return." <<elseif $chp5_31 is 3>> "No," Sir Oren breathes, his face ashen. "You cannot possibly ask us to send you $name." Anu glances at Sir Oren and the glint in her eyes eases until she looks at him the way a parent might look at their weeping child. She offers him a smile, something meant to be soothing but only seems to provocate Sir Oren even more. "If you want us to consider your alliance, you will need to prove that you are willing to aid us in our time of need," Anu explains. "But why $name?" Sir Oren demands. "Take members of my guard, take me but not $MChim. $name is not a trained fighter." Anu frowns. "$name will pass as one of us when we infiltrate the prisons. If we are spotted, the Blood Guard will not realise that we harbour your exiled prince in our city." "This is madness," Sir Oren retorts. "You cannot be asking $name to put $MChis life at risk for this task. It is too dangerous." Anu scowls, for the first time, appearing annoyed. "$name is capable of making $MChis own decisions, Captain." <<elseif $chp5_31 is 4>> "I have not agreed to this," you retort. Anu glances at you, her lips pulling into a frown as she regards you. There is a hardness in her grey eyes, a silent challenge in her expression that makes you wonder if she will threaten you with more than just words for your refusal. "This is not your choice," Anu spits. "You want an alliance? Then you must prove yourselves worthy." "Why must I risk my life for your mission?" you demand. <<if $anuRel gte 55>> Her expression softens, so slight that you might have missed it if you were not staring at her. "$name," she breathes. "You carry Ishari blood. Help us free our people and I promise you that you will have your alliance." <<else>> Her lips twist at your words, her eyebrows furrowing until she is glaring at you. "The same could said about your alliance, $name," she mutters. "Why should we risk our lives to support your bastard when you are unwilling to do the same for us? Refuse this and there will be no alliance between our people."<</if>> <</if>> You are quiet, Anu's words settling in your mind. Casting a glance at those around you, you realise that if you refuse, it will mean that Prince Irus will be without the support of Ishari. Refusing will mean failing at what you set out to do. <<set $chp5_32 to 0>> [["Very well," you breathe. "I will do it for the alliance."|chp5_33][$chp5_32 +=1]] [["I will do it because it is the right thing to do," you respond, thinking about the prisoners.|chp5_33][$chp5_32 +=2, $anuRel +=5]] [["If I do this, no matter what happens, you will have to agree to the alliance," you growl.|chp5_33][$chp5_32 +=3]] [["Fine. I will do it," you mutter, knowing that you have no other choice.|chp5_33][$chp5_32 +=4]]

<<if $chp5_32 is 1>> "Very well," you breathe. "I will do it for the alliance." Anu glances at you, satisfied by your response. The others stare at you as if you have lost your senses. After all, the task that you have agreed to will be dangerous and one where you will come face-to-face with the Blood Guard once more. <<if $chp5_31 is 1>> Prince Irus turns to you, his face twisted with doubt and his eyes brimming with concern. "$name. You do not have to do this. We will find another way. Please, you cannot-" "I have to do this, Irus," you reply. "This is for the good of the kingdom. We cannot lose the support of Ishari simply because you want to keep me safe." <<elseif $chp5_31 is 2>> Queen Elora frowns, her fingers gripping your wrist tightly. She trembles slightly, her lips quivering as if she is trying to keep her tears at bay. "$name," she murmurs. "Do not do this. Please, you do not have to put yourself at risk." You offer Queen Elora a small smile. "It is alright. This is what must be done to secure the alliance and if it means putting myself at risk, I will do it." <<elseif $chp5_31 is 3>> Sir Oren turns to you, his lips turning into a frown as his hazel eyes meet yours. For a moment, you think that he might reach out and grab your arm, but he hesitates, turning away. "$name, it is not safe," he breathes. "You should not have agreed to this." "I must do this," you answer. "We need the support of Ishari, regardless of the dangers I might have to face." <<elseif $chp5_31 is 4>> Anu appraises you, her eyes lingering on your determined expression and she smiles. "You are proving to be a worthy ally, $name," she replies. "Show us that you intend on keeping your word and you will have the gratitude of Ishari for years to come."<</if>> <<elseif $chp5_32 is 2>> "I will do it because it is the right thing to do," you respond, thinking about the prisoners. Your heart clenches at the thought of people being taken prisoner by the Blood Guard. The callous way they have treated the people of Ishari is well-known and after witnessing the horrors in Salt Bay, you fear what might happen to those who have been captured. <<if $chp5_31 is 1>> Prince Irus turns to you, his face twisted with doubt and his eyes brimming with concern. "$name. You do not have to do this. We will find another way. Please, you cannot-" "I have to do this, Irus," you reply. "This is for the good of the kingdom. We cannot lose the support of Ishari simply because you want to keep me safe." <<elseif $chp5_31 is 2>> Queen Elora frowns, her fingers gripping your wrist tightly. She trembles slightly, her lips quivering as if she is trying to keep her tears at bay. "$name," she murmurs. "Do not do this. Please, you do not have to put yourself at risk." You offer Queen Elora a small smile. "It is alright. This is what must be done to secure the alliance and if it means putting myself at risk, I will do it." <<elseif $chp5_31 is 3>> Sir Oren turns to you, his lips turning into a frown as his hazel eyes meet yours. For a moment, you think that he might reach out and grab your arm, but he hesitates, turning away. "$name, it is not safe," he breathes. "You should not have agreed to this." "I must do this," you answer. "We need the support of Ishari, regardless of the dangers I might have to face." <<elseif $chp5_31 is 4>> Anu appraises you, her eyes lingering on your determined expression and she smiles. "You are proving to be a worthy ally, $name," she replies. "Show us that you intend on keeping your word and you will have the gratitude of Ishari for years to come."<</if>> <<elseif $chp5_32 is 3>> "If I do this, no matter what happens, you will have to agree to the alliance," you growl. Anu frowns at your tone, but responds with a nod. It is clear that you cannot refuse but you know that if you fail, at least the alliance will be secured. <<if $chp5_31 is 1>> Prince Irus turns to you, his face twisted with doubt and his eyes brimming with concern. "$name. You do not have to do this. We will find another way. Please, you cannot-" "I have to do this, Irus," you reply. "The alliance will be secured once I do this." <<elseif $chp5_31 is 2>> Queen Elora frowns, her fingers gripping your wrist tightly. She trembles slightly, her lips quivering as if she is trying to keep her tears at bay. "$name," she murmurs. "Do not do this. Please, you do not have to put yourself at risk." You frown. "It must be done. We do not have another choice." <<elseif $chp5_31 is 3>> Sir Oren turns to you, his lips turning into a frown as his hazel eyes meet yours. For a moment, you think that he might reach out and grab your arm, but he hesitates, turning away. "$name, it is not safe," he breathes. "You should not have agreed to this." "I must do this," you answer. "If we want an alliance, I must go through with this." <<elseif $chp5_31 is 4>> Anu appraises you, her eyes lingering on your determined expression and she smiles. "You are proving to be a worthy ally, $name," she replies. "Show us that you intend on keeping your word and you will have the gratitude of Ishari for years to come." "I am only doing this for the alliance," you huff. Anu shrugs. "I do not care what you are doing this for, so long as you prove that your people can support ours."<</if>> <<elseif $chp5_32 is 4>> "Fine. I will do it," you mutter, knowing that you have no other choice. Anu seems to stare at you for a moment longer, perhaps doubting your commitment to the task ahead. Whatever she must see in your expression must convince her that you are willing to put yourself at risk because she nods. <<if $chp5_31 is 1>> Prince Irus turns to you, his face twisted with doubt and his eyes brimming with concern. "$name. You do not have to do this. We will find another way. Please, you cannot-" "I have to do this, Irus," you reply. "There is no other choice. Without Ishari, we will not be strong enough to defeat your uncle." <<elseif $chp5_31 is 2>> Queen Elora frowns, her fingers gripping your wrist tightly. She trembles slightly, her lips quivering as if she is trying to keep her tears at bay. "$name," she murmurs. "Do not do this. Please, you do not have to put yourself at risk." You glance at Queen Elora, frowning slightly. "I do not want to do this, but there is no other choice. We need the support of Ishari if Prince Irus is to reclaim his throne." <<elseif $chp5_31 is 3>> Sir Oren turns to you, his lips turning into a frown as his hazel eyes meet yours. For a moment, you think that he might reach out and grab your arm, but he hesitates, turning away. "$name, it is not safe," he breathes. "You should not have agreed to this." "If there was another option, I would have taken it," you reply. "But there is no other way to secure the support of Ishari other than helping them." <<elseif $chp5_31 is 4>> Anu appraises you, her eyes lingering on your determined expression and she smiles. "You are proving to be a worthy ally, $name," she replies. "Show us that you intend on keeping your word and you will have the gratitude of Ishari for years to come." "You have made it clear that I have no other choice," you huff. Anu smirks. "You do have a choice. You can refuse and lose our support." Her words cause your frown to deepen and she only raises an eyebrow in response.<</if>> <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_34]]

There is little more to be discussed, with Sargon only informing you that you will be briefed tomorrow about your impending mission, before people begin to filter out of the chamber. You swallow, knowing that once again, you will be thrust into danger, unable to avoid it for much longer. You trudge back to your room, the narrow hallway illuminated by the faint glow of lamps along the walls. Most of the chatter of the temple has been reduced to a quiet hush, the sounds of Ishari warriors beginning to take their posts for the night. As you step into your room, exhaustion pulls at your eyes and you find yourself curling into the narrow bed. Returning to Ishari is nothing at all what you expected but you know that after helping Anu, Prince Irus will have their support. [[Next.|chp5_35]]

The early morning finds you sitting across from Anu and a few warriors in a small room. Your belongings were finally been brought to the temple and you now wear a clean tunic and trousers, grateful that you are no longer dressed in material soaked with your sweat and the smell of the sea. For the past hour, Anu has been explaining the task ahead of you. Those who had been fighting against the Blood Guard had been taken captive, leaving those who still remained closer to the river, vulnerable. From what you have gathered, there is a large stone bridge that connects Ishari and the border of Cyre over a river. There are many things you still want to know and you decide to address Anu. <<set $chp5_35 to 0>><<set $chp5_35a to false>><<set $chp5_35b to false>><<set $chp5_35c to false>><<set $chp5_35d to false>><<set $chp5_35e to false>> [["How will we free the prisoners?" you question.|chp5_35a][$chp5_35 +=1, $chp5_35a to true]] [["Is the prison guarded by the Blood Guard?" you ask.|chp5_35b][$chp5_35 +=1, $chp5_35b to true]] [["How many prisoners are there?" you inquire.|chp5_35c][$chp5_35 +=1, $chp5_35c to true]] [["What happens if we're caught?" you query.|chp5_35d][$chp5_35 +=1, $chp5_35d to true]] [["How will we leave the prison after freeing the prisoners?" you ask.|chp5_35e][$chp5_35 +=1, $chp5_35e to true]]

"How will we free the prisoners?" you question. Anu points at the crudely drawn map before you. It depicts the city of Urur and then, a wide river that separates it from the prison where the Blood Guard have taken the Ishari prisoners. "We will make use of the river to hide our sounds and movements," Anu explains. "After a rainfall, the river is always overflowing at the banks but during the dry season, it remains low. There is an abandoned tunnel that once was used by the Blood Guard. We will make our way through there." "Will we not get spotted?" you question. "It will depend on the Blood Guard presence," Anu explains. "In recent weeks, we have noticed fewer of them stationed around the prison, so we will try our best to get in without being seen." [[Next.|chp5_35_landing]]

"Is the prison guarded by the Blood Guard?" you ask. Another warrior scoffs, "Many of the entry points are guarded but by young recruits." You frown in confusion and Anu glances at you, noticing your expression. Why would the Blood Guard only place recruits to guard the prison? Would they not want those who are better trained to keep out any unwanted visitors or are the recruits simply that skilled? "When the exiled prince fled, many of the Blood Guards were taken from their duties in the prison," Anu explains. "Since then, there has been fewer attacks." "So the prison is unguarded?" you ask. Anu shakes her head. "No. Do not be fooled. We do not know what it is like inside. Even if there are recruits outside, we do not which of their guards are stationed inside the prison." [[Next.|chp5_35_landing]]

"How many prisoners are there?" you inquire. "Around twenty or so are from the warriors and priestesses who were captured," Anu explains. "We are meant to rescue twenty people?" you ask, your eyes widening. "There are more than that, $name," Anu replies. "Innocents were taken too when the Blood Guard took those who were fighting against them. Children and the elderly are a part of those who will be rescued." Your mind races. Getting into the prison is easy enough, but managing to escape with the prisoners in tow seems almost impossible. [[Next.|chp5_35_landing]]

"What happens if we're caught?" you query. Anu raises an eyebrow at you. "If we're caught then we fight." "Fight?" you repeat. Memories of Salt Bay come rushing back and a sudden sense of unease creeps up your spine. How are you meant to fight back? People were slaughtered in Salt Bay when the Blood Guard came in search of Prince Irus. There is nothing to assure you that it will not happen again. "We are fighters," Anu explains. "We have been fighting against the Blood Guard for years, $name. They are not nearly as invulnerable as you might think." [[Next.|chp5_35_landing]]

"How will we leave the prison after freeing the prisoners?" you ask. Anu points to the map, gesturing to a small marking where the tunnel connecting to the prison leads back out to the river. "We'll go out through here," she explains. "It is easier to travel with that many under the cover of the tunnels and if anything goes wrong, they will be able to escape while the rest of us fend off the Blood Guard." "What about those who are injured?" you question. "We will have healers with us," Anu explains. "The priestesses are also trained in stemming blood and sewing up wounds." [[Next.|chp5_35_landing]]

<<if $chp5_35 lt 5>>There are still questions that have not been answered, so you turn to Anu, hoping that she will be able to tell you more about the task you have agreed to. <<if $chp5_35a is false>> [["How will we free the prisoners?" you question.|chp5_35a][$chp5_35 +=1, $chp5_35a to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp5_35b is false>> [["Is the prison guarded by the Blood Guard?" you ask.|chp5_35b][$chp5_35 +=1, $chp5_35b to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp5_35c is false>> [["How many prisoners are there?" you inquire.|chp5_35c][$chp5_35 +=1, $chp5_35c to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp5_35d is false>> [["What happens if we're caught?" you query.|chp5_35d][$chp5_35 +=1, $chp5_35d to true]]<</if>><</if>> <<if $chp5_35e is false>> [["How will we leave the prison after freeing the prisoners?" you ask.|chp5_35e][$chp5_35 +=1, $chp5_35e to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp5_35 is 5>>There is little more to ask Anu and she returns her attention to the map spread out before her. Gazing at it, you begin to notice small markings, some that are scratched out and others that have been circled. "We will leave tonight," Anu explains. "Just as the Blood Guard make their rotations. They will hardly notice our approach." "What am I expected to do?" you ask. Anu glances at you, her grey eyes meeting your gaze. "You will be with me, $name. If you are to prove that you are willing to help us, you will be at my side." <<if $anuRel lte 50>> You make a face, uncertain if you would have enjoyed being with Anu for this mission. She grins at you, her eyes flashing with a glint of amusement. "Despite my dislike for you, I will keep you safe," she drawls.<<elseif $anuRel gt 50>> Perhaps it is better to be at Anu's side. You do not know any of the other warriors and priestesses that well and Anu seems to be capable if the others are willing to follow her orders. She smiles at you, the gesture soft and catching you by surprise. "Do not worry, $name. I will keep you unharmed, of that I assure you."<</if>> [[Next.|chp5_36]]<</if>>

With the details of the plan concluded, many of the warriors begin to filter out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You think about the consequences of your failure and what it would have been for Prince Irus and the possibility of an alliance and then, you think about the prisoners who have been captured by the Blood Guard. There are many things that could go wrong, and... <<set $chp5_36 to 0>> [[...you are nervous that you will fail.|chp5_37][$chp5_36 +=1]] [[...you are terrified of encountering the Blood Guard again.|chp5_37][$chp5_36 +=2]] [[...you are desperate to save the prisoners who were captured.|chp5_37][$chp5_36 +=3]] [[...you are determined to succeed, for the alliance and for the prisoners' sake.|chp5_37][$chp5_36 +=4]]

<<if $chp5_36 is 1>> Anxiety grips you like the coiling of a serpent around your chest. You cannot breathe, your thoughts racing and colliding with each other. There is much that could go wrong and you fear that you will be unable to cope with the task ahead of you. You are not a skilled warrior and you barely escaped with your life when you and Prince Irus confronted the Blood Guard. The notion that you will fail lingers in the back of your mind. You know that you cannot risk failure, for the fate of the prisoners rest on whether they are freed and you also know that failing to save them would only hamper your chance at securing an alliance. <<elseif $chp5_36 is 2>> Fear coils in your gut, twisting and pulling until you are certain that you will be ill. When you last encountered the Blood Guard, you had barely been able to escape. Seeing them in Vinia had only reinforced the notion that no matter how far you run, you will never escape their reach. You are terrified of what might happen when you set off with the Ishari warriors and priestesses. Even if the prison is guarded by recruits, you know that it will be a challenging thing to rescue the prisoners. It is difficult to breathe without gasping, your fingers trembling at your sides. You know that failing tonight will only mean more death. <<elseif $chp5_36 is 3>> Your heart clenches, the pain of knowing that many innocent lives are being held in the prison of the Blood Guard. From what Anu has explained, there are children in the prisons too. The Blood Guard are callous towards those with Ishari blood and your stomach coils with unease at the possibilities of what the prisoners must endure. You know that the alliance depends on your success of rescuing the prisoners, but you also know that saving the prisoners would mean freeing them from the cruelties of the Blood Guard. For too long people have died at the hands of the Blood Guard and you can only hope that you will succeed in your task tonight. <<elseif $chp5_36 is 4>> Failing at your task will mean that you are failing to secure an alliance with Ishari and failing to save countless lives who are suffering at the hands of the Blood Guard. The weight of your task is a heavy one, but you force yourself to remain upright, refusing to crumble under the pressure that mounts at your shoulders. There are many depending on you and you are dertermined to succeed, even if it means that you will be faced with danger and the possibility of being killed. <</if>> Knowing that there is a large task set ahead of you, you decide to spend the rest of the day... [[...learning about the political situation between the city of Urur and the the Blood Guard across the river.|chp5_38][$politics +=10]] [[...practising your combat skills in preparation of a possible battle.|chp5_38][$blades +=10]] [[...developing your leadership skills, hoping to better direct others when you set off to accomplish your task.|chp5_38][$leadership +=10]]

It is dark outside when Anu and the rest of the group joining the mission, gather in the temple's courtyard. You have been given a light armour, the chestplate gleaming like bronze against the flickering firelight. Sargon stands to the side, his face drawn and his mouth twisted into a frown as he speaks to Anu in low whispers. There is a tension in the air, the knowledge that after you leave, you will return successful or not at all. Your gaze sweeps over the courtyard, and you notice your companions standing to the side. There is not nearly enough time to speak to all of your companions, but you realise that this might be the last time you will see them until you return. [[You approach Prince Irus.|chp5_39a]] [[You approach Queen Elora.|chp5_39b]] [[You approach Sir Oren.|chp5_39c]] [[You decide not to speak to anyone, instead focussing on the task ahead.|chp5_40]]

You approach Prince Irus, who stands alone near the raging fire. The glow of the flames cast him in an ember light, as if he was bathing in the heat, unhurt by its touch. He glances at you, his blue eyes softening slightly as you make your way to his side. "$name," he murmurs. "You do not have to do this." You nod. "I know." He lets out a breath, a tired sound that rumbles in his chest. Turning his attention onto the flames, he does not speak for a moment. You use the time to take in his features. There is a frown on his lips, his eyebrows furrowing slightly in the middle of his forehead. He is worried, you realise, for you. <<set $chp5_39a to 0>> [["It will be alright," you murmur. "I will return before dawn."|chp5_39a1][$chp5_39a +=1, $irusRel +=5]] [["You need not look so worried," you breathe. "I will not be alone in my task."|chp5_39a1][$chp5_39a +=2, $irusRel +=5]] [["Pouting is useless," you huff. "This needs to be done."|chp5_39a1][$chp5_39a +=3]] <<if $irus_lock is true>> [[♡"I am doing this for you, Irus," you say. "I would do anything for you."|chp5_39a1][$chp5_39a +=4, $irusRel +=5, $irusRom +=5]] [[♡You tilt your face towards his, your face warming at the thought of being kissed.|chp5_39a1][$chp5_39a +=5, $irusRom +=5, $irusRel +=5]] [[♡You kiss him hungrily, afraid that you might not see him again.|chp5_39a1][$chp5_39a +=6, $irusRel +=5, $irusRom +=5]]<</if>>

Queen Elora stands aside and for once, she is not surrounded by her guards. The Royal Vinian Guards who are joining Anu and the rest of the group will meet you closer to the river. As you approach Queen Elora, you find her gaze meeting yours. She offers you a smile, but it does not rid her expression of the worry in her face. "$name," she greets. "I do not suppose that you have changed your mind about this?" You glance at the gathered warriors and priestesses, those who will be risking their lives alongside you tonight. A breath leaves your lips and you shake your head. "I have not," you answer. Queen Elora nods. "I thought as much." She pauses, her dark eyes finding yours. "Please, be safe tonight." <<set $chp5_39b to 0>> [["I promise that I will be," you respond, offering her a smile.|chp5_39b1][$chp5_39b +=1, $eloraRel +=5]] [["Thank you for worrying about me," you murmur.|chp5_39b1][$chp5_39b +=2, $eloraRel +=5]] [["I do not need you to remind me," you mutter.|chp5_39b1][$chp5_39b +=3]] <<if $eloraRom gte 30>> [[♡"I will be," you breathe, your skin warming at her concern.|chp5_39b1][$chp5_39b +=4, $eloraRom +=5, $eloraRel +=5]] <<if $irus_lock is false>> [[♡You stare at her mouth, wanting to kiss her but afraid of closing the distance between you.|chp5_39b1][$chp5_39b +=5, $eloraRel +=5, $eloraRom +=5]] [[♡You close the distance between you, kissing her deeply.|chp5_39b1][$chp5_39b +=6, $eloraRel +=5, $eloraRom +=5]]<</if>><</if>>

Sir Oren is standing closer to the warriors, his eyes roaming over their weapons and armours. For a moment, you study his features, the deep concentration etched in his eyes and the way his hands reach out for the sword that is not at his hip. "Sir Oren," you call. Your voice seems to startle Sir Oren from his inspection of the warriors and he turns to face you. His expression softens slightly, his lips pulling into a smile as he regards you. "$name," he replies. He glances at your armour, nodding in approval. "You will be wearing armour. That is good. It will keep you protected." He gestures to the other warriors. "You should not stray far from the others. There are many dangers when you are alone. It is safer-" <<set $chp5_39c to 0>> [["Sir Oren," you interrupt, smiling. "Your concern is warming, but I assure you that I will be fine."|chp5_39c1][$chp5_39c +=1, $orenRel +=5]] [["Thank you, Sir Oren," you breathe, touched by his concern.|chp5_39c1][$chp5_39c +=2, $orenRel +=5]] [["I did not ask for your help," you snap.|chp5_39c1][$chp5_39c +=3]] <<if $orenRom gte 30>> [[♡"I will be careful," you murmur. "It is kind of you to worry."|chp5_39c1][$chp5_39c +=4, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5]] <<if $irus_lock is false>> [[♡You stare at Sir Oren's mouth, causing his words to falter.|chp5_39c1][$chp5_39c +=5, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5]] [[♡You swallow the rest of his words with your lips.|chp5_39c1][$chp5_39c +=6, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5]]<</if>><</if>>

You join the rest of the group who will be attempting to rescue the Ishari prisoners tonight. The fire crackles behind you and you feel the hairs on the back of your neck rise. As Anu begins to lead your group away from the temple courtyard, the only glimmers of light come from wooden torches that flicker and cast strange shadows on the ground. Tonight, you will either prove yourself worthy and secure an alliance or you will meet your demise. Pressure builds along your back, settling on your shoulders and threatening to weigh you down. You are distracted and barely notice when Anu begins to walk alongside you. "It is not much farther," she murmurs. "The bridge is only up ahead." You nod in response, the others around you hushed as you make your way through the empty streets of Urur. For a moment, neither of you says anything, the only sounds coming from your footsteps. You cannot quite place the emotion that courses through you. It is something akin to fear but also the sense of uneasiness. Tonight, you will encounter the Blood Guard again. [[Next.|chp5_41]]

<<if $chp5_39a is 1>> "It will be alright," you murmur. "I will return before dawn." Prince Irus stares at you, his expression twisting as he regards you. Reaching out, he grabs your shoulders, his grip tight and his face pained. You cannot look away, suddenly taken aback by his reaction. There is a desperation in his gaze that reminds you of the night Mama left you with Ahlf and it leaves you breathless. "You cannot promise that, $name," he breathes. He glances down, swallowing. "I... I have lost so much already. I do not know what I would do if I lost you now." His words are soft, barely audible above the crackling of the flames. You stare at him, eyes wide and your heartbeat thudding loudly knowing that this will be the first time that you and Prince Irus will be apart since you first met. "I will come back, Irus," you promise. "You will not lose me." <<elseif $chp5_39a is 2>> "You need not look so worried," you breathe. "I will not be alone in my task." You hope to reassure Prince Irus, to make him understand that you will be surrounded by the Ishari priestesses and warriors around you. But his expression only grows more worried, and his eyes dart towards where Anu stands. He shakes his head, his gaze returning to you and he frowns. "I do not want you getting hurt, $name," he murmurs. "I worry that you will not return." His words are full of pain, the sorrow in his blue eyes evident as he looks at you. You swallow, suddenly aware that this will be the first time that you and Prince Irus will be parted from each other. The notion that you will not see him until your return leaves you slightly uneasy, for his presence has been a steady one throughout your journey. "I will return," you reply. "Trust that I will." <<elseif $chp5_39a is 3>> "Pouting is useless," you huff. "This needs to be done." Prince Irus casts you a frown, your curt tone cutting through the concern in his gaze. He lets out a sharp breath, turning away from your gaze and peering at Anu and the rest of the group gathered. There is a low murmur of voices around you, but Prince Irus does not speak. You glance at him, noting the furrow in his eyebrows and the hardness in his eyes. <<if $irusRel lt 50>>Your relationship with Prince Irus has not been the best, but you cannot deny that in your travels together, you have become accustomed to his constant presence.<<else>>Your relationship with Prince Irus has developed into something more than simple companions, though you cannot deny that his concern serves as a distraction from the task ahead of you.<</if>> "Just be safe," he breathes. You meet his gaze, offering a small nod. <<elseif $chp5_39a is 4>> "I am doing this for you, Irus," you say. "I would do anything for you." Your words come out soft drawing Prince Irus' gaze towards you. For a moment, neither of you speak, the distance between you closing as he draws you into his chest. You let out a breath, feeling his arms wrap around you tightly, squeezing as if he is afraid to let you go. "You need not do anything but stay at my side, $name," he breathes. "I cannot lose you too." You draw away slightly, gazing up at Prince Irus. His blue eyes are soft, a well of affection as he stares at you. Your stomach flutters, your skin growing warm not from the flames, but from the way his fingers trace along the nape of your neck. "You will not lose me, Irus," you respond. "I promise." He stares at you a moment longer, before drawing you back into his chest. You feel his face into the crook of your neck, his breath warm and sending tingles down your spine. A slow breath leaves you, knowing that this will be the first time since you will be apart from Prince Irus and the thought is terrifying. "I will be waiting for you," he gasps. "Please be safe." <<elseif $chp5_39a is 5>> You tilt your face towards his, your face warming at the thought of being kissed. There is a subtle shift in the way Prince Irus gazes at you, one moment worried and the next, his eyes darken with hunger. He draws you close, his fingers curling around the edges of your jaw as he pulls your mouth to his. A soft breath escapes you as Prince Irus kisses you gently, slowly as if trying to memorise the shape of your lips. Your fingers clutch as his chest, twisting into his tunic and pulling him closer as his mouth begins to graze the side of your mouth and lowers until he is tasting the soft skin against your neck. You shiver, heat surging through you from his touch. A sound, soft and unbidden slips past your lips and it is enough to cause Prince Irus' lips to curl into a smile against your neck. He draws away and you struggle not to show your disappointment but you must fail because Prince Irus smirks at you, amusement flashing through his eyes. "Something to look forward to," he breathes, husky. "Return to me safely, $name." You can only manage a nod, unable to trust your voice. <<elseif $chp5_39a is 6>> You kiss him hungrily, afraid that you might not see him again. Prince Irus lets out a surprised sound, before his arms are wrapping around you, clutching you tightly to his chest. Your lips meet in a clash of teeth and tongues and your grip his face tightly in your palms, afraid to let go. There is a scrape of his tongue, the flick of it against yours that sends a shudder down your spine. Heat pools into your stomach, raging and searing, drawing you closer to him. He tastes like wine and yearning and can only moan when he draws away to pepper wet kisses along your jawline, tasting the sensitive skin there. "Irus," you gasp. Your voice comes out half-pleading, half-whisper and Prince Irus draws away, despite your tight grip. He gazes at you, his eyes dark with hunger and beneath it, something that sends a shiver down your spine. He brushes his fingers against your cheek, softly, as if you were something fragile. "I do not wish to part from you, $name," he murmurs, his voice low. You blink, swallowing a lump. "I will return to you." He leans closer, placing a peck against your forehead. "I know you will." <</if>> You glance at where Anu stands, the gathered warriors and priestesses about to set off. Prince Irus nods at you, his expression conflicted but he does not stop you as you turn away from him and join the others. [[Next.|chp5_40]]

<<if $chp5_39b is 1>> "I promise that I will be," you respond, offering her a smile. Queen Elora nods in response, her fingers reaching to brush your shoulder. There is a note of concern in her eyes, something that makes your chest squeeze at the knowledge that she cares deeply enough about you to be worried. "Good," she breathes. "I have come to enjoy having you around. It would be a shame if I could not see you anymore." You chuckle. "Are you trying to scare me into remaining behind?" She offers you a wry grin. "Is it working?" "No," you reply. "But, I assure you that I will not take any uneccesary risks." <<elseif $chp5_39b is 2>> "Thank you for worrying about me," you murmur. You have not had many who cared about you when you were growing up. Now, you find yourself with a family in Vinia and companions who have not turned their backs on you because of your Ishari heritage. It is a strange concept to understand, yet, Queen Elora stands before, smiling softly. "Of course, $name," she responds. "You have become a valuable member of our group<<if $eloraRel gte 65>> and a good friend.<<else>>.<</if>>" You glance at the gathered warriors and priestesses around you. They too speak with those you imagine must be friends and family members. Returning your attention onto Queen Elora, you find that she is smiling, her eyes warm as she regards you. "You are doing a brave thing," she states. "I hope that you know that we all care about your well-being, $name. Please return to us safely." <<elseif $chp5_39b is 3>> "I do not need you to remind me," you mutter. Your voice comes out curt, a sharp sound that makes Queen Elora's eyes widen in response.<<if $eloraRel lt 50>> Your relationship with the young queen has not always been the easiest and perhaps she is more stunned into silence by your tone rather than your words.<<else>> Queen Elora's eyebrows furrow in concern and she seems to want to reach out, but stops as if thinking better of it. You relationship with the young queen is not strained, but her concern only puts you on edge.<</if>> "I only want you to be safe," she replies. "There is nothing wrong in that." "I did not ask for your concern," you retort. You turn away from her gaze, your eyes roaming over the gathered faces. There is a niggling sense of dread in the pit of your stomach and frustration from being around Queen Elora. Her worry for you only makes your doubts rise, the swirling twist of something ominous waiting for you in the task ahead. "No," Queen Elora murmurs. She glances at you. "I suppose you did not." <<elseif $chp5_39b is 4>> "I will be," you breathe, your skin warming at her concern. Your voice is breathless, a whisper that finds Queen Elora and draws her dark eyes to you. You stare at her, meeting her eyes as she steps closer, grasping your hand in hers. For a while, neither of you speak and you bask in the heat that crawls up your palm from where her thumb strokes over your wrist. "It is hard to let you go," Queen Elora whispers. "I... $name, I do not want to see you leave." "I will return to you," you murmur. "I promise you that." Queen Elora smiles, a sad thing that twists your heart. She stares down at where your hands are joined, her fingers intertwining with yours. "I am afraid," she confesses. "I do not know what I will do if you do not return." Her words a baerly a whisper, her eyes averted as though she is afraid to meet your eyes. You lean closer, the faint smell of jasmine on her skin as she turns to look at you. Her eyes are glossy and she blinks. Reaching out, you draw her into your hold, sighing when you feel her arms winding around your shoulders. "I will return," you murmur. <<elseif $chp5_39b is 5>> You stare at her mouth, wanting to kiss her but afraid of closing the distance between you. Queen Elora notices your hesitation, leaning towards you until there is barely a hair's breadth between your lips. She guides your chin, tilting your lips towards hers before finally pressing her mouth against yours. Her kiss is soft, a gentle peck that elicits a soft breath from you. You shudder, her fingers ingniting your skin as they roam over your neck, her fingers brushing your chin before they circle your shoulders. She pulls you closer, her lips parting as she kisses you deeper, the taste of her mouth enough to draw out a whimper from the back of your throat. "$name," she breathes, drawing away. Your mouth tingles as her breath brushes against your face. "Promise me that you will return to me." "I promise," you murmur. You would promise her anything if to only feel her mouth again. Queen Elora smiles, her dark eyes boring into yours. When she kisses you again, you feel her tongue against your and a slow heat begins to build between your bodies. She is flushed against you, her fingers curling at the back of your head. She withdraws suddenly, her mouth glistening. "Good. I will be waiting for your return." <<elseif $chp5_39b is 6>> You close the distance between you, kissing her deeply. Queen Elora draws you close, returning your kiss immediately. She gasps against your probing tongue, her fingers digging into your back as she presses against you. You kiss her languidly, slowly, wanting to enjoy every moment of her touch. She shudders, her body trembling against yours and you let out a soft laugh, suddenly pleased by her desire for you. Queen Elora draws away, her chest rising and falling as she stares at you. She is beautiful, you think and suddenly the thought of leaving her side seems like madness. "Stay with me," she breathes, half-pleading. You are tempted and by the way she kisses along your neck, her teeth grazing your sensitive skin, you realise that if you do not pull away, you might agree to her request. "I cannot," you murmur. You glance at her, kissing her brow. "I must do this." "I know," she sighs, turning to stare at you. "I only wish you did not." <</if>> You turn away from her, noticing that the other priestesses and warriors have gathered together. With a final glance at Queen Elora, you make your way towards the others. [[Next.|chp5_40]]

<<if $chp5_39c is 1>> "Sir Oren," you interrupt, smiling. "Your concern is warming, but I assure you that I will be fine." He stops short, his cheeks flushing red as you gaze up at him. A sheepish smile slips along his lips and he turns away, gazing at the warriors again. You can tell by the way his fingers twitch at his sides that he is nervous, the concern for you evident in the way he keeps glancing at you. "I know you are a capable $gender," he murmurs. "But I cannot help but worry for you, $name." His gentle tone warms you, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips. You have become accustomed to Sir Oren's worry, but it does not detract from the surge of warmth that spreads through you. It has been a long time since you have known what it is liked to be worried over and you find that you enjoy it greatly. "You are kind to worry," you answer. "But I will be alright. As you have said, there are other warriors who will be with me." Sir Oren nods, running a hand through his dark hair. "Yes, of course. <<elseif $chp5_39c is 2>> "Thank you, Sir Oren," you breathe, touched by his concern. It is a strange thing to know that there are those who care about you and what might happen to you. You stare at Sir Oren, watching as his cheeks flush with red but he meets your gaze, smiling softly in response. He is kind, you think, more so than anyone you have ever known and for that, you are grateful. "Of course, $name," he replies. "I worry about you." He glances around the courtyard. "It is a dangerous thing what you are about to do. You must remain vigilant." You smile softly. "I shall." Sir Oren glances at you, the flecks of green in his brown eyes clearer in the flames of the fire. You stare at him, noting the way his gaze sweeps across you the way you would imagine he would look at those under his orders. There is warmth in his eyes, concern and yet, beneath it, an unwavering faith in you. "I know that you will succeed, $name," he breathes. <<elseif $chp5_39c is 3>> "I did not ask for your help," you snap. His words cause you to sneer at him. You do not need his advice, nor did you ask for it and by the way Sir Oren blinks at you, you find that he is<<if $orenRel lt 50>> unsurprised by your tone, your relationship strained.<<else>> stunned by your words, unused to your anger.<</if>> "I apologise," he replies. "I was only trying to help." You scowl. "Just because you are a Captain, it does not mean that I want your aid in this task." Sir Oren presses his lips together, frowning at your reply. You turn away, wanting to avoid his penetrating stare and instead, turn your attention on the fire that burns in the centre of the courtyard. Sir Oren's words only served to frustrate you more than you would have liked to admit, his advice unwanted and condescending. You are capable, you remind yourself. You do not need his help. <<elseif $chp5_39c is 4>> "I will be careful," you murmur. "It is kind of you to worry." Your voice draws Sir Oren's attention, his eyes flickering with warmth. He gazes at you, his eyes roaming over your features before he steps closer. You let out a breath, feeling the heat of his form and smelling the woodsmoke in his hair. A faint touch of red, a glimmer of a blush, brushes against his cheeks as he gazes at you. Slowly, as if afraid that you will pull away, Sir Oren reaches out and presses his fingers gently against your cheek. The contact sends a thrill through your body. The skin of his fingers are calloused from holding a sword in combat, and yet, as he brushes his palm against your chin, resting his hand on your shoulder, you find that you do not want to pull away. "I will always care for you, $name," he murmurs. His eyes are steady, an unwavering thing as he stares at you. "It has nothing to do with kindness. I do not think I could withstand the idea of losing you." "I..." you breathe, pausing. "I will return, Sir Oren." He smiles, soft and full of affection. "I know you will." <<elseif $chp5_39c is 5>> You stare at Sir Oren's mouth, causing his words to falter. A surge of heat spreads over his face but he does not avert his gaze from you. Your heartbeat thunders loudly, your lips parting as a breath escapes you. He is so close that you can feel his heat seeping into your skin, warming you until your body is ablaze with the thought of kissing him. "$name," he breathes, reverent as he stares at you. "You... I cannot hold myself back any longer." And then, Sir Oren's mouth is crashing onto yours. You shiver, heat spilling across you as you lean into his hold. His arms, strong and large, wrap around your waist and keep you there against his chest. He kisses you softly as if taking his time to memorise the taste of your tongue and the sounds of your whimpers. Your fingers reach into the back of his head, tangling in the dark strands of his hair. Sir Oren leans closer, pressing so tightly against you that you can feel his heartbeat thundering against his chest. Eventually, he draws away, panting and flustered as he stares at you. "I do not want you to go," he whispers. You open your mouth to respond, but Sir Oren kisses you deeply, stealing your words with his tongue. A breath leaves you, when he pulls away, your mouth wet and stained with his taste. "Please, come back to me safely, $name." "I will," you breathe. "I promise." <<elseif $chp5_39c is 6>> You swallow the rest of his words with your lips. Sir Oren lets out a strangled sound but he does not pull away from your kiss, instead, he leans into you and buries his fingers into your waist. He is warm against you, a steady presence that comforts and causes desire to tug at your stomach. Deepening the kiss, your tongue slips past his parted lips to taste him. He is rich, like honey and figs, the taste enough to draw you closer. A soft groan rumbles in the back of Sir Oren's throat and the sound elicits shivers from you. You kiss him hungrily, wanting to remain like this for eternity. It is Sir Oren who pulls away first, his breathing ragged and his face flushed red. You stare at him, unable to look away from his glistening mouth and the softness in his eyes. "$name," he breathes, his eyes never leaving yours. You cannot look away and you do not think that you want to. Sir Oren grazes your cheek with the tips of his fingers, the callouses rough on your skin. "I do not think that I can part with you," he murmurs. "Is it so selfish to want to keep you to myself?" You kiss his chin, his beard tickling your lips. "No." He smiles at you, softly gazing at your face. "Be safe tonight, $name." "I will," you promise. <</if>> You turn away from Sir Oren, your eyes find the rest of the warriors and priestesses gathering together. It seems that they will be leaving soon. With a sigh, you cast a final glance at Sir Oren before you move to join them. [[Next.|chp5_40]]

The Royal Vinian Guards who were chosen to join you, meet you halfway to the river. They are dressed in plan armour, leather and dark, far different than the armour they don when following Sir Oren's orders. Together, your group is around thirty, most made up of warriors. Together, you make the slow journey towards the river. It is difficult to see past your feet ahead of you. The night is moonless and the group does not speak. You begin to hear a lowl burbling, the rush of water. The air grows cooler, a fine dew forming along the foliage beneath your feet. Slowly, the river comes into view. It splits the land, a fierce swirl of currents that would tear you in half were you to fall over the river's edge. Ahead of you, you spot a large, stone bridge. Even in the darkness, the firelight catches the cracks of the stone and weathered age of its appearance. "The healers will stay in the middle and back," Anu explains. "$name, you'll be coming with me." She marches ahead, not turning to see if you follow her. <<set $chp5_back to false>> [[You follow after Anu, intending on staying close to her.|chp5_42]] [[You decide to remain in the back of the group, unwilling to take unneccessary risks.|chp5_42][$chp5_back to true]]

<<if $chp5_back is true>> You decide to remain behind, lingering closer to the back of the gathered faces. While you have agreed to help with freeing the prisoners, you are also aware of the dangers that lie ahead of you. Facing the Blood Guard will not be an easy feat and you fear what might await you if you had to charge in with Anu. <<else>> You follow after Anu, knowing that you agreed to help free the prisoners. If anything happens, you know that Anu will be able to handle herself against the Blood Guard and perhaps she will help keep you safe too. The task that you must accomplish is a great one and you are willing to put your life at risk if it means that you will secure an alliance and free those who have been hurt at the end of this. <</if>> Anu murmurs something to the group, something too low for you to hear over the river. A moment later, a warrior slips away from the group and heads past the bridge. You stare at the warrior, your eyes lingering on his silhouette until it becomes difficult to discern him apart from the night's landscape. No one speaks and for a moment, you fear that he might have been caught by the Blood Guard. The seconds become longer until your skin begins to sweat in the heat of the night. Your chest tightens, the fear that at any moment, you will be found and slaughtered by the Blood Guard filling your thoughts. "He's back," Anu announces. The warrior nods at Anu and she glances at the rest of the group. The torches are instantly covered, the flames snuffed out until there is only darkness. You blink, suddenly unable to see past the person in front of you. "The path is clear," Anu states. "It is time to rescue the prisoners." [[Next.|chp5_43]]

<<set $location to "The border of Cyre.">><div class="timeline">The Blood Guard Prison, Cyre.</div> You creep along the edge of the riverbank, the sounds of the water meant to mask your footsteps as you draw closer to the prison on the other side of the bank. Beyond the water's edge, you glimpse the prison, a massive stone structure that nearly rivals the size of the temples in the city. It must be able to house hundred of prisoners at a time and thought makes your stomach twist. "Alright," Anu murmurs. "The scouts will head through the tunnels first and then the warriors will follow." <<if $chp5_back is true>>She suddenly notices that you are standing at the back of the group and you fear that she will drag you to stand beside her. A moment passes, annoyance in her gaze, but she says nothing and returns her attention to the rest of the group.<</if>> "Tonight, we will rescue our people," Anu hisses. "We will show no mercy to those who stand in our way." There is a chorus of cheers, the sound muted by the rush of the river. As you glance around, you notice the gleam in the eyes of the Ishari warriors and priestesses. Tonight, they will free their people. But for you, there is more at stake. <<set $chp5_43 to 0>> [[You are terrified about what is to happen.|chp5_44][$chp5_43 +=1]] [[You are looking forward to testing your skills against the Blood Guard.|chp5_44][$chp5_43 +=2]] [[You hope that you will be able to save the prisoners.|chp5_44][$chp5_43 +=3]] [[You are doing this for the alliance.|chp5_44][$chp5_43 +=4]] [[You feel a sense of dread as if this is something you cannot escape.|chp5_44][$chp5_43 +=5]]

<<if $chp5_43 is 1>> Fear twists in your stomach, an incessant //tug// that leaves you wide-eyed and breathless. The sound of the cheering is drowned out by the sound of your heartbeat. It thunders under your chest, your shoulders tensing with each second that passes. You cannot do this. It is too much. Would Anu realise that bringing you with her was a mistake? You can barely speak, barely move even when the rest of the group begins to set out towards the tunnel beyond the bridge. Your fingers tremble at your sides, and you press them into your palms, hoping to stop them from shaking so much. A sour taste rises in the back of your throat, bile threatening to spill past your lips. It is difficult to reign in your fear, the threat of your knees buckling beneath your weight making your steps clumsy as you follow the rest of the group. <<elseif $chp5_43 is 2>> It has felt like decades since you last faced the Blood Guard and tested your mettle against them. How often have you been reduced to enduring the humiliation and pain that they caused? You shake your head, your fingers pressing into your palms, digging into the skin. Tonight, you will fight back. The determination surges through you, a hot wave of fire that consumes everything in its path. Your skin burns, sweat running down your back as you follow after the group. You will no longer cower or hide from the Blood Guard. There will be no feeeling tonight, no hiding from their stares. They will pay for their atrocious acts of violence towards you and those you once knew. You will do what you must to prove that you are no longer afraid of the Blood Guard, to prove that you have changed in the time that you fled Salt Bay. <<elseif $chp5_43 is 3>> You stare at the prison, its dark shape an ominous thing at night. Beyond its walls are those who were captured, stolen from their homes simply because of their belief in the Ancient Ones. Your heart clenches at the knowledge that for so long, they have been bound, suffering the worst of fates by the Blood Guard. A well of determination, the desire to protect all who have endured suffering at the hands of the Blood Guard, fills you. Tonight you will help the others free as many prisoners as you can. You only hope that it will not prove more difficult than you expect. Sweat gathers along your skin, the night humid despite the cool breeze. You follow after the others, your eyes taking in the looming shape of the prison. Tonight, you will help those who need it, no matter the risk. <<elseif $chp5_43 is 4>> Joining Anu and her group in their bid to free the prisoners is something that you must do. The alliance means nothing, not until the rest of the people of Ishari will vouch for you. Even then, you remember Lord Redall's words. Even if you secure the favour of those tonight, you will still need Princess Lahamu's approval before the alliance will be officially recognised. There is much to lose if you do not succeed tonight, not just for your group but for the people of Vinia and those beyond. You know that Virion will not stop once his control of the realms begins to grow. It seems that power only serves to corrupt those who wield it with an iron fist. As you follow the group towards the tunnels, a knot of trepidation fills you. Tonight, you cannot fail. <<elseif $chp5_43 is 5>> Dread, coiling and crippling, begins its path up your chest, swirling until you cannot breathe. You blink, staring at the sky and then at the shadowy loom of the prison across the riverbank. A sharp breath escapes you, a sense of foreboding as you follow the group. No matter how hard you try, it seems as if you are fated to a life that you have no control over. How many times have you fled, only to find yourself in the same path of danger? You swallow as unease fills your mind and causes your shoulders to tense. Perhaps this is the reason why many believe in fate, something that can never be truly changed without dire consequences. You wonder if you were to abandon your task now, would you inevitably be brought back against your will? The thought lingers in your mind, even as you begin your journey towards the tunnel. <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_45]]

The tunnel proves to be narrower than you expected, with only two people able to fit alongside each other. It sits near the shallow end of the river, a disused structure that has been split with the growth of roots and grass. The scouts venture in first and then, Anu follows with the warriors.<<if $chp5_back is true>> You remain where you stand, waiting until the warriors disappear into the tunnel before following along with the rest of the group.<<else>> You follow Anu, struggling to keep up with her quick strides into the dark tunnel.<</if>> It is difficult to see, the darkness thick and crowding around you as you feel your way deeper into the tunnel's mouth. There is a quiet stillness, only the sounds of footsteps and the clack of weapons as they jostle around. You try not to think about how far the mouth of the tunnel is or how you would manage to defend yourself in this cramped space. Beyond you, the scout calls out. "Stop. The grate is sealed." "Stand back," Anu growls. She strides forward, her face suddenly aglow as she unsheathes her blade. You stare at the metal, a gleaming gold that cannot be possible and yet, in Anu's hands, the sword seems as if it made of liquid fire. She brings down the blade against the grate, but instead of any sound, the blade cuts through the metal as easily as it would be to cut through butter. Anu's eyes meet yours in the dimness, her gaze bright and impossible to look at. They are not grey, but gold as if Anu had taken the sun and split it between her eyes. "Atses' Heart," she explains, sheathing the blade. The glow fades from her eyes. "This is how we will deal with the Blood Guard." The rest begin to follow through the opening, the grate melted and disformed. Your mind is still reeling, unable to understand how a blade could cut through metal without any resistance. <<set $chp5_45 to 0>> [[There must be a reasonable explanation.|chp5_46][$chp5_45 +=1]] [[Perhaps you imagined it.|chp5_46][$chp5_45 +=2]] [[This must be the work of the Ancient Ones.|chp5_46][$chp5_45 +=3]]

<<if $chp5_45 is 1>> You do not understand how Anu wielded such power, less so when it came from a sword. No one else besides the guards from Vinia seem as surprised by the sight of Anu's blade and you wonder if there is an unknown method of smithing that the people of Ishari have learnt. While some might claim it to be sorcery or perhaps even the work of the deities, you know there must be a reasonable explanation how the blade cut through the grate so easily. <<elseif $chp5_45 is 2>> Your mind races, trying to make sense of what you just witnessed. The others in the group seem unfazed and you wonder if you mistook Anu's sword for a torch instead. You stare at the melted metal, the grate hardening as you walk past. It is dark, too dark to really know what you saw and you wonder if you only imagined seeing the glow of Anu's blade and her eyes. <<elseif $chp5_45 is 3>> There is so much that was lost during the early days of the war regarding the Ancient Ones. But the people of Ishari still believe and you know that they must hold knowledge that others do not. Your thoughts still focus on Anu's blade, the bright glow that seemed liked fire but it was not fire. There had been no smoke, no crackling. <<if $spirtual_ancient gte 60>>The blade tonight only proves the existence of the Ancient Ones.<<elseif $spirtual_ancient lt 60>>You have not believed firmly in the Ancient Ones, but perhaps after what you have just seen, it will be a difficult thing to deny their existence.<</if>> You follow after the rest of the group, your thoughts racing at what this might prove. <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_47]]

The tunnel soon opens out into a wide hallway. Lanterns hang from the walls, casting a dim glow over the stone walls and floor. Anu leads the rest of you after the scouts confirm it is safe to continue forward. You are uncertain what you were expecting, but finding the prison so unguarded makes you uneasy, as though you are wading towards a trap. "The prisoners from Ishari are kept on the floor above us," Anu explains, glancing at the group. "We will do what we must to free them. Do not allow yourselves to become distracted." There are soft murmurs of agreement and slowly, you begin moving in earnest. The walls stretch on forever, your footsteps echoing around with every step you take. Your eyes search for any sign of the Blood Guard, but find nothing. Anu leads the rest of you up a stairwell, pausing every so often to see if you have been found. When there is still nothing, you begin to feel more at ease. Perhaps the rescue will not be as dangerous as you first thought. [[Next.|chp5_48]]

Whatever fortune favoured your entry comes to an end when you reach the top of the stairs. The floor is guarded by at least four Blood Guard soldiers, two at the end of the hallway and two who stand closer to the stairwell that you and the rest of the group are situated in. Anu pauses, her fingers resting on the hilt of her blade. "We can easily get rid of them." But the look in her eyes, you realise that she means to kill them. No one speaks up in protest and as you look at the rest of the faces gathered, you begin to understand that this had been their plan all along. <<set $chp5_48 to 0>> [["I agree with you," you reply, knowing that there is no other way forward.|chp5_49][$chp5_48 +=1, $anuRel +=5]] [["There must be another way," you protest, unwilling to kill the soldiers in the hallway.|chp5_49][$chp5_48 +=2]] [[You remain quiet, because you are afraid of voicing your disapproval of this plan.|chp5_49][$chp5_48 +=3]] [[You nod at Anu, silently supporting her plan.|chp5_49][$chp5_48 +=4, $anuRel +=5]]

<<if $chp5_48 is 1>> "I agree with you," you reply, knowing that there is no other way forward. Anu glances at you, her grey eyes finding yours in the dim stairwell. There is an amused grin on her lips as she regards you, perhaps not expecting you to voice your support of her plan. But as you gaze at the Blood Guard soldiers, you know that there can be no other way to free the prisoners. After all, if the roles were reversed in this situation, you are certain that the Blood Guard soldiers would have killed you without a second thought. "I did not need your approval, $name," she replies. "But it is good to know that you stand on our side." <<elseif $chp5_48 is 2>> "There must be another way," you protest, unwilling to kill the soldiers in the hallway. Your voice comes out pleading, a desperation that clings to your throat as you glance at the Blood Guard soldiers. There has been so much death already and killing the four that guard the hallway will only serve to make things worse. "You suggest that I show them mercy?" Anu scoffs. "Do not be a fool, $name. These soldiers would kill us all if we gave them a chance to." You stare at her, horror filling you as you realise that no one will come to your defence. They mean to kill the Blood Guard soldiers and you realise that they do not care about the repercussions that their actions might bring. <<elseif $chp5_48 is 3>> You remain quiet, because you are afraid of voicing your disapproval of this plan. Killing the Blood Guard soldiers is akin to announcing your presence in the prison. No matter how unguarded the prison might be, you know that drawing attention to yourself will only make rescuing the prisoners even more difficult. But a quick glance at the faces around you tells you that none of them are about to disapprove of Anu's decision. They are willing to kill the four who guard the hallway, even if it means more bloodshed and death. A twist of unease fills you, afraid to speak up against this plan and at the same time, terrified of what is to come. <<elseif $chp5_48 is 4>> You nod at Anu, silently supporting her plan. Anu catches your glance, nodding in response. There can be no other way, you think. The Blood Guard are a ruthless group, slaughtering any who stand in their way. You have seen it in Salt Bay and you know that if you give them a chance tonight, they will slaughter you too. Glancing at the others around you, you note the determination in their expressions, their hands at their weapons. They have made peace with this outcome, you realise, willing to put their lives at risk to save the prisoners from the Blood Guard. You startle, suddenly aware that you are in agreement with them. Tonight, you will do what it takes to free the prisoners, even if it means more death and bloodshed. <</if>> Anu unsheathes her blade and her eyes are suddenly like embers of a flame. The warriors follow after Anu, their weapons raised and their footsteps silent. You too were given a blade, a sword that weighs heavy in your palm. As the first of the two guards are dispatched with, you find yourself being pushed forward, unable to avoid the surge of those around you. [[Next.|chp5_50]]

There is blood under your boots and you nearly slip into the puddle that coats the stone floor. One of the warriors hits the back of the head of the second closest soldier and she crumples, unmoving. Further down the hallway, the remaining Blood Guard soldiers are struggling to keep the warriors away. All around you, you hear the ragged breathing of the fight and the clang of metal against metal. Anu wields her sword, fiery and blinding as she slices through the remaining soldiers with ease. There is a sickening squelch as the soldiers fall to the floor, the stench of their blood filling your nose. "Get as many as you can out," Anu hisses, gesturing at the cells. "I will deal with the reinforcements." Quickly, the priestesses and healers who are not already fighting, begin to break at the locks that keep the prisoners in the cells. You hear a loud shout and realise that the commotion has drawn more of the Blood Guard to you. Your heartbeat quickens, your mind racing as you survey the scene before you. <<set $chp5_50 to 0>> [[Join in the fight, hoping to keep the Blood Guard at bay.|chp5_51a][$chp5_50 +=1]] [[Help free the prisoners, hoping to avoid the bloodshed.|chp5_51b][$chp5_50 +=2]]

You do not think as you charge with your sword raised. There is chaos all around you, blood on the floors and on the faces of those who have not been cut down. One of the Blood Guard soldiers stabs her sword through an Ishari warrior, the blade coming through her chest. You watch the warrior fall and in an instant, the soldier is charging towards you. <<set $chp5_51a to 0>> [[You meet her attack with your blade raised.|chp5_51a1][$chp5_51a +=1]] [[You dodge her attack and swing your weapon at her legs.|chp5_51a1][$chp5_51a +=2]] [[You evade her attacks, hoping to distract her as someone else attacks her.|chp5_51a1][$chp5_51a +=3]]

As you turn your attention to the cells lining either side of the narrow hallway, you realise that they are crowded with people. They are gaunt, their skin blotched with dark bruises. Some do not look up as the cells are opened and you realise in horror that some are not moving at all. The cells are quickly opened, the commotion of the fight further down the hallway enough to rouse some of the prisoners from their stupors. Ushering the prisoners out their cells, the priestesses and healers are quick to help those who are too injured to walk on their own. You find children clinging to the elderly and adults who stare wide-eyed at your group. <<set $chp5_51b to 0>> [[You help the injured to escape the cells.|chp5_51b1][$chp5_51b +=1]] [[You focus on ushering the children out.|chp5_51b1][$chp5_51b +=2]] [[You try to rouse those who are unmoving.|chp5_51b1][$chp5_51b +=3]]

<<if $chp5_51a is 1>> Raising your blade, you charge towards the Blood Guard soldier, your blades meeting a clang of metal and strength. Your arms quiver as you push forward, knowing that if you fail now, you will be killed like the others around you. She shoves you back, her breathing laboured and you realise that she is injured at her side. <<if $blades gte 60>>You stumble back, feinting left and as you predicted, the soldier swings her weapon towards you. Ducking out of the way, you raise your blade and push it into her side. She cries out as you cut through her flesh, staining the sword with her blood. You yank your sword back, watching as the soldier collapses to the floor, her eyes lifeless.<<elseif $blades lt 60>>You struggle to maintain your pace and you stare at her side must have given you away because when you bring your blade up, she manages to parry your blow. A gasp escapes your lips as you are shoved to the floor. Blood seeps into your skin and horror fills you as you stare up at the soldier's blade pointed at your face. Your eyes squeeze but a moment passes and the slice of her sword does not come. Looking up, you find one of the warriors shoving the headless soldier away. He helps you to your feet, unspeaking as he returns to the fray.<</if>> <<elseif $chp5_51a is 2>> You manage to dart out of the way of the soldier's blade, the sound of metal cutting through the air barely missing the tip of your ear. Raising your sword, you bring it towards the back of her legs, aiming to force her to the ground. She stumbles but manages to keep charging towards you. The guard tries to strike you again with her own weapon and she is too close for you to counter her swing, so you leap backwards. She is wounded, you realise as you struggle to maintain a distance between the both of you. Your sword at the back of her legs seems to have slowed her, a thin trickle of red darkening the floor beneath her boots. It is enough, you think. <<if $blades gte 60>>Crouching, you eye her blade warily as you struggle to breathe over the stench of blood and death. She is clearly injured, the skin of her face is swollen and bruised and her right arm hangs limply by her side. Her eyes are glazed with pain but when they lock on yours, she lunges again, this time aiming straight for your head. You dart away, plunging your blade into her side. The sword cuts through her with ease and she does not get the chance to cry out before she is falling to the ground, dead.<<elseif $blades lt 60>>It is difficult to move in this narrow space, the hallway packed with bodies as they fight. You raise your blade, hoping to disarm her as you lunge forward. But she is quicker and before your blade can meet her flesh, you feel a throbbing in your side. You cry out, stumbling back, saved only by the armour you don. The soldier wastes no time as she begins to charge, pressing to her advantage. It is takes you everything that you have to evade her thrusts, but you are tiring and she is not. She stabs forward and your sword clatters to the ground. A grin pulls at her lips but before you can feel the slice of her blade, she gasps, collapsing. You look up and find one of the Ishari warriors before you, nodding before returning to the fray.<</if>> <<elseif $chp5_51a is 3>> You dart out of her way, managing to avoid the thrusts of her sword. It works, allowing you to dodge another strike from her, and she stumbles over a corpse as she continues on her path to you. She falls on top of it, making you stumble back for a few steps, but before she can stand up, you slam your fist into her face. Your hand throbs and when you pull it away, you find her nose bloodied. The soldier glares at you, her rage evident in her face as she charges with her blade.<<if $blades gte 60>>You manage to manoeuvre out of the way, dodging her attacks. She is growing tired and the blood on her face is making it difficult for her to breathe. You only need to keep this up for a while longer before someone else can catch her unawares. She swings again, and you leap out of the way, landing behind the Blood Guard. The soldier’s eyes widen when she sees that you are still alive. She spins, her sword swinging towards you, but you sidestep, barely being able to parry the blows As you are beginning to think that your plan was the wrong one, a warrior stabs her from behind, catching the soldier with his blade. She collapses to the ground, unmoving and you nod in thanks to the Ishari warrior. <<elseif $blades lt 60>> She is faster than you, you realise with a start. You manage to block the slash of her sword, pushing it back so that it is held back by the weight of yours. Her eyes narrow as she pushes against you with her sword, forcing you backwards until your feet leave the ground. It happens almost too quickly for you to react. One moment you are standing there on the floor and the next second she has pushed you and you fall against the corpses that beneath you. Your head hits something hard, knocking it and sending pain throughout your skull. The soldier brings her blade, but before it can strike your face, a sword cuts through her from behind. The soldier falls beside you and you look up to find an Ishari warrior standing before you. He helps you up wordlessly before returning to the fray. <</if>><</if>> [[Next.|chp5_52]]

It becomes clear that the Blood Guard has more soldiers than your group has warriors. The others must realise too because there is a shout for retreat and you are jostled and pushed, as the freed prisoners and the rest of your group begin to make their way back to the tunnels. [[Next.|chp5_53]]

There is chaos as the prisoners and the rest of your group hurry to escape the prison. The tunnel is not nearly large enough with so many bodies pressing into each other. You are jostled and shoved, someone jabbing your rib with an elbow. It leaves you gasping and struggling to follow with the rest of the group. Someone begins to sob and the sound is quickly joined by frightened wails and the painful groans of the injured. The air is thick, sweat and fear tightening around you like the body of a snake. Another shove comes from behind and you stumble, nearly colliding into the side of the tunnel. A sharp grasp pulls at you, saving you from your fall. "Careful. If you fall now, you might get trampled." The voice is soft, feminine but beneath it, //familiar//. There is a nagging feeling in the back of your mind, the strangeness of her voice drawing memories of Mama to the fore. You turn but the grip on your arm tightens. "Do not turn," the woman hisses. "Continue forward. The opening of the tunnel is only a few paces away." You nod numbly, uncertain if she can see your response in the dark. Together, you push forward until the cool breeze of the outside air begins to wash over you. Determined to escape the smell of fear and dread, you stumble past the tunnel's mouth and onto the riverbank. [[Next.|chp5_54]]

<<if $chp5_51b is 1>> You quickly realise that there are more injured prisoners than there are healthy ones. Following the lead of the priestesses and healers, you begin to help the prisoners who are injured to their feet. A young woman, her face bruised and her ankle twisted at a painful angle accepts your outstretched arm as you guide her away from the damp cell. A healer spots the woman on your arm and quickly takes over in guiding her out of the hallway. There are more after the young woman, a man who can barely walk and then an elderly woman whose eyes are swollen shut. Their injuries must be painful, but the prisoners do not complain as they are hurried out of the cells. <<elseif $chp5_51b is 2>> It is the sight of the young children that causes your chest to tighten. You are quick to help them out of the cells, their eyes wide with fear while others tremble uncontrollably. They remind you of when you and Mama fled all those years ago and the memories only serve to spur you on. Some of the children shy away from you, but others grip your arms tightly as you guide them out of the cells. You do not know what horrors the children must have endured, only that they are far too young to wtiness so much death in one place. <<elseif $chp5_51b is 3>> Carefully, you step into the cells toward those of the prisoners who do not flee with the rest. You swallow, dread forming in your stomach as you shake the shoulder of an elderly man. He is cold to the touch and stiff. Your eyes widen and you stumble back. A healer rushes towards the man, pressing her fingers against his neck. "He's gone," she breathes, shaking her head. You swallow down a lump, casting your gaze over the rest of the prisoners who do not move. It dawns on you then that none of these people are alive. You were too late to save them and the brutality of it all is nearly enough to to sap you energy. <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_52]]

You hunch forward, swallowing mouthfuls of cool air. Your skin is hot, sweat dripping down your back as your armour only serves to worsen the heat around you. You reach up to wipe at your brow, your skin sticky to the touch. "Are you alright, $heir of Ishari?" It is the same voice from before, softer now. You turn, expecting a healer or perhaps one of the priestesses. But, it is neither. The woman - no, that is not right. She is not just a woman. You blink in disbelief and then you rub your eyes. It cannot be. The woman has the same dark hair, but her face is older and the gaze in her eyes are harder. "$name?" she asks, her eyes like gold, widening. Before you stands the woman who left you all those years ago, the woman<<if $motherdeath is true>> you thought was dead.<<elseif $motherdeath is false>> you //knew// was still alive.<<elseif $mother_unsure is true>> whose whereabouts remained a mystery until now.<</if>> //It is Mama.// <<set $chp5_54 to 0>> [[Your eyes burn as you rush towards her, a sob escaping your lips.|chp5_55][$chp5_54 +=1, $showSalyraRel to true]] [[You stare at her, shocked and confused, unable to make sense of what is happening.|chp5_55][$chp5_54 +=2, $showSalyraRel to true]] [[You glower accusingly as fury and sadness take ahold of you.|chp5_55][$chp5_54 +=3, $showSalyraRel to true]] [["Mama," you gasp, your knees crumpling beneath your weight.|chp5_55][$chp5_54 +=4, $showSalyraRel to true]] [["You left me," you spit. "How could you have left me all those years ago?"|chp5_55][$chp5_54 +=5]]

<<if $chp5_54 is 1>> Your eyes burn as you rush towards her, a sob escaping your lips. When you collide, it is like returning home. Your arms wrap tightly around Mama. She is warm and her touch is the way you remember it being when you were still a child. Tears sting your eyes, but you do not care that you are staining her shoulder with your weeping. Mama is here. "My precious Sweetling," Mama breathes. Her arms tighten around you and you realise that her face is wet. "You have grown so big, my $heir." You pull away, your fingers clutching at her shoulders, afraid that if you let go then you will realise that this is not real. Mama stares at you, her lips pulled into a soft smile. Her hair is the same dark shade you remember and her eyes are kind as they take in your appearance in return. She rubs your face, wiping the tears from your eyes. "$name, I have missed you so much. There has not been a day that has gone by where I have not thought about you." <<elseif $chp5_54 is 2>> You stare at her, shocked and confused, unable to make sense of what is happening. The ground beneath you feet sways and then you realise that it is not the ground that moves. You are unsteady, your mind trying to make sense of what is happening and yet, you cannot. Your breaths come out sharp, a ragged sound that makes swallowing more air painful. Mama reaches out, her fingers gripping your shoulders and it is as if she has anchored you. You can suddenly breathe again and your eyes are wide as you stare at her. How can this be possible? "My Sweetling," Mama breathes. "You are here." You swallow, your mouth dry. All these years apart have rendered you absent of words now that you are staring at Mama. She is real. Her skin is warm and her grip is tight. She is real, you repeat inwardly. The more you stare at her, the more your mind finally begins to accept the truth of it all. "Mama," you gasp. And then, she is holding you. Her grip is strong and her face is wet against you as she weeps openly. You breathe in her scent, memories that you once forgot now rising to the fore. Suddenly, you can breathe again and you hug her back. <<elseif $chp5_54 is 3>> You glower accusingly as fury and sadness take ahold of you. Turmoil fills you at the sight of Mama. Your eyes burn as tears begin to prickle at the back of them, but you blink it away. She is alive? All those years ago, when she left you, you had never known what truly became of her. Yet, she is here in Ishari, the very place she fled with you when you were still a child. Mama's gaze softens and she reaches out for you, but you flinch away from her touch, rage as hot as the flames of a fire, spilling past you. Her eyes widen in response and her lips pull into a frown, a look of hurt flashing through her eyes. "My Sweetling," she murmurs. "Please, do not be mad at me." "You left me," you retort. She shakes her head. "I know. But it was for your own good. Please, $name, there is time to talk about what happened later. Let me hold you. Please." You shake your head, your heartbeat thudding loudly under your chest. It is hard to look at Mama without wanting to cry out in frustration. How can she be here? All this time that you were in Salt Bay, she had been alive. <<elseif $chp5_54 is 4>> "Mama," you gasp, your knees crumpling beneath your weight. The ground lurches beneath you and then, you find yourself falling. Mama lets out a cry and suddenly, she is at your side. Her arms are warm and her voice is soft as she draws you into her chest. You feel her tremble and you realise that she is weeping. "My Sweetling," she whispers. "I have missed you so much." She draws away, her eyes on your face as if trying to take in as much of you as she can. A soft smile graces past her lips, a kindness that you remember well from your childhood and it is enough to draw tears to your eyes. Mama reaches out, her fingers cupping your face gently. "You were still so small when I left you," she breathes. "Now you are an adult." Your breath escapes you when Mama pulls you back into her hold. Her grip is tight, as if afraid to let you go. You sink into her embrace, overwhelmed by the emotions that take ahold of you. <<elseif $chp5_54 is 5>> "You left me," you spit. "How could you have left me all those years ago?" Your words are like blades, cutting through the air between you and Mama. Her eyes widen at your tone, the bitterness of your words stunning her into silence. You glare, anger and resentment rising within you as you watch your mother. She looks almist the same as she did when you were a child, except now, she can no longer appease you with her words. "My Sweetling-" "No," you spit. "Do not call me that. I have not seen you in twenty years." "$name," she gasps. "I did not want to leave you but I had no choice. You were so young." You rake your hands over your face in anger. How can she not understand that the life you endured was one far worse than being apart from her? Narrowing your eyes, you glare at her, your pain and fury mixing into something cold. "You left me," you accuse. "You left me and you never came back." "It is not so simple," she replies. "I wanted to come to you. I thought about you every day. Please, $name. Let me hold you." You shake your head, drawing into yourself. Mama's gaze falls and you turn away from the watery look in her eyes. <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_56]]

"High Priestess, there you-" You look up and find Anu. The glow in her eyes is gone, her fiery blade now sheathed. She stops, staring between you and Mama, her eyebrows furrowing when she realises your proximity. "High Priestess, you have met $name," Anu says, glancing at you in confusion. Mama glances at you, her eyes softening. "We have known each other for all $MChis life. I am $name's mother." <<set $chp5_56 to 0>> [[You smile in response, feeling a surge of warmth at being reunited with Mama again.|chp5_57][$chp5_56 +=1, $salyraRel +=5]] [["She is not my mother. She has not been for a long time," you spit, upset by her reappearance.|chp5_57][$chp5_56 +=2, $salyraRel -=5]] [[You look away, uncertain and conflicted. She is your mother, but she has not been in your life for so many years.|chp5_57][$chp5_56 +=3]]

<<if $chp5_56 is 1>> You smile in response, feeling a surge of warmth at being reunited with Mama again. Mama catches your expression and her own lips pull into a wide smile. There is still much that you need to speak to Mama about, about the lives you have lived and about the family you discovered in Vinia. But for now, you are content to be with Mama again. You are no longer without companions or a family. <<elseif $chp5_56 is 2>> "She is not my mother. She has not been for a long time," you spit, upset by her reappearance. Mama's eyebrows furrow, her expression falling at your words. Too much time has passed for her to be considered your mother. If anything, it was Ahlf who had been forced to raise you. Mama was not there when you had to cope with the isolation, nor was she there when you had to flee. She is not your mother, not after everything that has happened and certainly not after she abandoned you when you were still a child. <<elseif $chp5_56 is 3>> You look away, uncertain and conflicted. She is your mother, but she has not been in your life for so many years. How do you begin to comprehend Mama's sudden reappearance in your life? She is the one person who you thought you could rely on and then, she left you with Ahlf and never returned. Now that she is here, you cannot help but shift uneasily. There is pain and sorrow at knowing that you have been apart for so long and relief at finally being reunited. But, it is difficult to know if the relationship with your mother could ever be the same as it used to be after everything that has happened. <</if>> Anu frowns. "You are jesting, High Priestess. Your only child is //Rana//." Your eyes snap to Anu. She does not notice your widened eyes or hear the way your heartbeat races. Perhaps you misheard her. Your eyes find Mama and your chest squeezes painfully when she cannot meet your eyes. <<set $chp5_57 to 0>> [["You have another child?" you ask.|chp5_58][$chp5_57 +=1]] [["So you made yourself a new life and forgot about me?" you hiss.|chp5_58][$chp5_57 +=2]] [["I... you started a family here?" you question, eyes burning.|chp5_58][$chp5_57 +=3]] [["Anu is lying," you breathe. "Tell me that she is lying, Mama."|chp5_58][$chp5_57 +=4]] [[You cannot speak or think. This is too much for you.|chp5_58][$chp5_57 +=5]]

<<if $chp5_57 is 1>> "You have another child?" you ask. The question leaves you in a rush, your eyebrows furrowing as you stare at Mama. Perhaps she took in an orphan, a child who was forgotten in the war? Mama finally turns to meet your eyes, a heavy look in them that you cannot quite place. "Yes," she murmurs. "I do. A daughter, Rana." Her words seep into you, slowly at first as your mind tries to comprehend her response. You struggle to wade through the emotions that rise within you, to try and make sense of it all and yet, the longer you stare at Mama, the more questions come to the surface. <<elseif $chp5_57 is 2>> "So you made yourself a new life and forgot about me?" you hiss. Anger spills from your lips, a savage thing that forces Mama to look up at you. Her eyes are watery, the expression on her face ridden with something like sorrow, but you refuse to believe that she is sorry for anything. "It is not like that, $name," she murmurs. "Rana came to me at a time when I was-" "I do not care when it happened," you spit. "All this time, you have had another child. It is clear that you have moved on." <<elseif $chp5_57 is 3>> "I... you started a family here?" you question, eyes burning. You swallow, a hard lump forming in the back of your throat. It is beginning to become difficult to breathe, your eyes prickling as tears begin to form in your gaze. Mama turns to look at you, her face falling when she catches your expression. "It is not so simple, $name," she murmurs. "Rana was a blessing. It was not something that I had planned for in advance." "So it is true then," you breathe. "You truly did have another child." Mama looks down, her voice quiet. "Yes." <<elseif $chp5_57 is 4>> "Anu is lying," you breathe. "Tell me that she is lying, Mama." You refuse to believe that Mama had willingly had another child or started a family without you. When she left you with Ahlf, she said it was to protect you so how could she have had another child if it was so dangerous to do so? Mama looks at you, frowning. "She is speaking the truth, my Sweetling." Her words squeeze the air out of your lungs and leave you reeling. She has another child and perhaps, another life here too. It is one that you were never part of and you wonder if she ever truly thought about you when she started a new family. <<elseif $chp5_57 is 5>> You cannot speak or think. This is too much for you. The sounds around you collide into a cacophony that makes your head throb. You turn away from Mama, from Anu and the rest of the group around you. Your breathing comes out shallow, your chest hurting. First you discover your mother is alive and then, you learn that she has had another child. The thoughts shove and pull at your thoughts and you clutch at your head, struggling to understand it all. You do not realise that you are trembling until Mama is at your side, her touch unwanted. "My Sweetling," she breathes. "Please, you must understand. Rana was not planned. I did not think that-" You draw away from her. She stares at you, her eyes wide, but you cannot stand it. Everything that has happened tonight has only made you realise that no matter how much you run, you will never seem to escape your past. <</if>><<set $chp5_58 to 0>> [["I always thought Ahlf was the bad parent but it was you," you hiss. "It has always been you."|chp5_59][$chp5_58 +=1, $salyraRel -=5]] [["I need time to think," you breathe, overwhelmed.|chp5_59][$chp5_58 +=2, $salyraRel +=5]] [["I have always wanted to have a sibling," you murmur.|chp5_59][$chp5_58 +=3, $salyraRel +=5]]

<<if $chp5_58 is 1>> "I always thought Ahlf was the bad parent but it was you," you hiss. "It has always been you." Mama's eyes widen at your words and she is suddenly reaching out for you. Her fingers grasp the air where you stood, as you flinch away from her touch. For years you have had to live with Ahlf, thinking that perhaps if you were with Mama, your life would have been different. But now, you realise that Mama had abandoned you only to start a new life. <<elseif $chp5_58 is 2>> "I need time to think," you breathe, overwhelmed. It is too much for you to cope with. Your mind is racing with a thousand thoughts, each one only raising more questions. For years, you were in Salt Bay and now, you discover that Mama had another family without you - a family that you were not a part of. You cannot know how to feel, not until you are given the opportunity to process it all. <<elseif $chp5_58 is 3>> "I have always wanted to have a sibling," you murmur. Growing up in Salt Bay meant hat you were alone for most of your childhood. You always wondered what it might be like to have a sibling, someone who you could share your life with and now, you realise that you might get the chance. Mama glances at you, her expression softening and you catch the glimmer of hope in her gaze. Perhaps, things will not be so bad after all. <</if>> There is a sudden shout from one of the warriors. In the commotion of realising that Mama was alive and that she has had another child in your time apart, you had forgotten all about the Blood Guard and the prison. "We need to go," Anu grunts. "The seal on the tunnel will not keep the Blood Guard at bay forever." She pauses, glancing at you then at Mama. A strange look passes through her eyes, but you cannot tell what Anu is thinking. "You can talk when were are safely behind the temple walls," she hisses. "It is time to leave, now." [[Next.|chp5_60]]

You are sore and your limbs feel heavy as you wade across the river once more. There is a fervour in the way people rush towards Ishari, the prisoners panicked, as if fearing they will be dragged back to the cells. It feels as if you have been running for an impossibly long time, sweat dripping down your back and your breaths coming out in sharp pants. It is not until you see the beginnings of the mud brick homes and the narrow streets that your shoulders sag in relief. Glancing around you, you notice the healers helping the freed prisoners, some limping and others being carried. Beyond that, the priestesses speak softly to the children. The warriors surround your group as you walk and as the temple comes into view, Anu comes to walk alongside you. "You did not tell us that your mother was the High Priestess," Anu remarks. "I did not know that she was in Ishari until tonight," you respond. Anu must sense your unease, because she casts you a remorseful look.<<if $anuRel gte 55>> "She is your mother, $name. Much time has passed between you, but I am certain that you can work out whatever problems you might face."<<else>> "I know that we have not always been on the best of terms, but I am happy that you have found your mother again. It is never an easy thing to lose a parent."<</if>> You do not get a chance to respond, having finally arrived at the temple. Anu offers you a fleeting glance before she hurries towards the temple courtyard. [[Next.|chp5_61]]

<<set $location to "Temple of Ehulla, Ishari.">><div class="timeline">Temple of Ehulla, Ishari.</div> The moment your group returns, there is a rush of voices, sobbing and a chorus of cheers. You glance around, noting the reunion between the freed prisoners and those who have come to the temple awaiting their return. Children weep as they are found by parents, while others are taken to the temple by the priestesses. You turn, your eyes searching for Mama despite yourself. A knot forms in your stomach when you catch sight of her being embraced by a young girl. This must be Rana then. A man, nothing at all like Ahlf draws Mama into his grasp and it finally dawns on you. It is one thing knowing that Mama has <<if $heir is "daughter">>another daughter<<else>>another child<</if>>, but it is a completely different thing to witness it. [[You turn away, feeling betrayed by Mama.|chp5_62]] [[You turn away, giving Mama time to reunite with her new family.|chp5_62]] [[Your hands curl into fists at your sides as you stride away from the sight.|chp5_62]] [[She is living her life and now, it is time to live yours.|chp5_62]]

Your thoughts about Mama are interrupted when you spot your companions, but it is the sight of... <<set $chp5_62 to 0>> <<if $irusRel gte 60>>[[...Prince Irus that draws you closer.|chp5_63][$chp5_62 +=1]]<</if>> <<if $eloraRel gte 60>> [[...Queen Elora that draws you closer.|chp5_63][$chp5_62 +=2]]<</if>> <<if $orenRel gte 60>> [[...Sir Oren that draws you closer.|chp5_63][$chp5_62 +=3]]<</if>> <<if $irusRel lt 60 and $eloraRel lt 60 and $orenRel lt 60>> [[...Crown that draws you closer.|chp5_63][$chp5_62 +=4]]<</if>>

<<if $chp5_62 is 1>> Prince Irus strides towards you, his blue eyes warm as they meet your gaze. He grins and without warning, draws you into a crushing hug. You let out a breath, feeling his solid presence and when he pulls away, he smiles, his expression soft. "$name," he murmurs. "We heard that you succeeded. You managed to free the prisoners." You nod in response, casting a glance at Sir Oren and Queen Elora. Behind them, you notice Crown, the dark steed sniffing at the back of Sir Oren's head. "Crown is here?" you ask. Queen Elora nods. "It seems that we are no longer being treated as enemies." <<elseif $chp5_62 is 2>> Queen Elora reaches you as you stride towards her. Her eyes are dark, glimmering brightly against the flames of the fire. She smiles, a soft smile that makes your heart swell. Her fingers grip at your wrist, her smile warm as she gazes at you. "You did it, $name," she breathes. "You managed to help free the prisoners." You nod. "I suppose so." Your eyes shift to Sir Oren and Prince Irus beyond Queen Elora. To your surprise, you spy Crown standing behind Prince Irus. You glance at Queen Elora and she smiles at your expression. "The rest of the guards were allowed entry into the city once news of your success reached us," she explains. "We are closer to securing the alliance." <<elseif $chp5_62 is 3>> Sir Oren's strides are long and he reaches you easily. His eyes scan your face, the hazel gaze filled with concern as he looks you over. A swell of warmth fills you, suddenly reminded by his gentle kindness and the softness of his care. "I am alright," you say, before he can speak. "Yes," Sir Oren replies, nodding. "I... yes." You glance at Prince Irus and Queen Elora behind Sir Oren, your eyes widening when you spot Crown snorting at the ground. Returning your attention to Sir Oren, you look at him questioningly. "After your success tonight, the rest of our people were allowed entry into the city," Sir Oren explains. He smiles warmly. "This is because of you, $name." <<elseif $chp5_62 is 4>> Your eyes fall onto Crown, the darkness of his coat nearly as black as the night. You reach towards the horse, your fingers running over his mane as you press your face into his side. Crown snorts in response, his wet nose sniffing at the top of your head. A smile tugs at your lips as you draw back, staring up into his dark eyes. "Crown is here?" you ask. Prince Irus glances at you, amusement in his eyes. "Yes. The rest of the crew and Crown were allowed into the city once we learnt of your success." You return your attention to the dark steed. He is solid under your hands, enough to ground you to this moment. You succeeded and that it is what matters. <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_64]]

Your attention is drawn away by the approach of Anu. Like the other warriors, her armour is stained red and there is a slight bruise along her face where you suspect she must have taken a blow from the Blood Guard. "You helped us greatly tonight, $name," she states. "We will celebrate this victory and tomorrow, we will discuss the future of a possible alliance with our people. I suppose, now that your mother is the High Priestess, we cannot refuse your request." Her words come out easily, but the silence amongst your companions grows until it is deafening. Prince Irus is the first to look at you, a questioning expression in the blue of his eyes. "Your mother?" he asks. "I thought she left when you were a child." Anu speaks before you can respond. "$name's mother is our High Priestess. She was captured a few months before your uncle took the throne and tonight we managed to free her." <<set $chp5_64 to 0>> [["I did not know that she was here until now," you explain.|chp5_65][$chp5_64 +=1]] [["I would rather not talk about it tonight," you mumble.|chp5_65][$chp5_64 +=2]] [["Whatever our relationship is, I think it would be best to discuss this tomorrow," you reply.|chp5_65][$chp5_64 +=3]]

<<if $chp5_64 is 1>> "I did not know that she was here until now," you explain. Your companions stare at you, an odd mixture of confusion and surprise. Perhaps they are thinking that with you here, you might be able to sway the others to your cause. After all, the people of Ishari can no longer look upon you as strangers after you helped free the prisoners nor can they deny the relationship with your mother. But it is a complex thing. You are here to help Prince Irus secure an alliance but you never imagined that you would find Mama here. You let out a breath, tired and your limbs sore. The weight of tonight has finally caught up to you and you would like nothing more than to rest. <<elseif $chp5_64 is 2>> "I would rather not talk about it tonight," you mumble. A series of emotions flicker through the faces of your companions. They stare at you, confused and then, a look of empathy in their eyes. You let out a breath, the weight of tonight's revelations enough to make your shoulders sag. It is difficult to know how to discuss your mother and her long absence in your life or even how to address the fact that she has a new family now. Queen Elora speaks first, her expression soft. "It is alright, $name. You have gone through much tonight. We can discuss this at another time." Prince Irus and Sir Oren nod in agreement and you let out a relieved breath. Tiredness quickly slips over you. It is only now that you realise just how stiff and sore your body feels from the ordeal of tonight. You are too tired to think about the implications of your mother's reappearance, exhausted by it all. <<elseif $chp5_64 is 3>> "Whatever our relationship is, I think it would be best to discuss this tomorrow," you reply. <<if $salyraRel lt 50>> You words are laced with bitterness, the memories of your mother now tainted with the realisation that she has found a new family in Ishari. <<else>> Your words come out strained, a heavy tiredness lacing your voice. It has been a tiring and long night, one that you cannot deny has been emotionally draining. Your mother's reappearance is one that has brought you many conflicting feelings and you still need time to process them all.<</if>> "Of course, $name," Sir Oren responds. He offers you a kind smile. "We can discuss this after you get some rest." You nod gratefully as the events of tonight finally find you in a grip of exhaustion. Your shoulders ache and your legs feel too weak to hold you up for much longer. Suddenly, the call of rest seems like bliss. <</if>> Anu glances at you, raising an eyebrow. "There will be some festivities to celebrate the freedom of the prisoners. It will not be much, but you should consider joining us." She glances at the rest of your companions. "You all should." You nod, but decide not to answer. All you would like to do is remove your sweaty clothes and rinse off the reminder of what happened tonight. [[Next.|chp5_66]]

It is not until you have stripped off the armour and washed yourself clean of the <<if $chp5_50 is 1>>blood<<else>>grime<</if>> and sweat that you begin to feel more like yourself again. Outside your room, you can hear the beginnings of festivities. Many are still injured and there are those who remain dead in the prison, but it seems as if the energy of the people in Urur has lifted since the return of the prisoners. You follow the sounds of conversation and the low beat of drums to the temple's courtyard. A tall wall of flames sits in the centre of the courtyard. Beyond the fire, you spot the priestesses chanting softly, though no one approaches them. The atmosphere is lighter tonight in the temple as if the hope of the people have finally returned. As you begin to look for your companions, you realise that your mother is approaching you. A young girl who could be no older than ten, follows your mother closely, her large eyes darting towards you. This must be Rana, your mother's other child. [[Next.|chp5_67]]

"$name," Mama breathes. "I could not find you after we returned. There is someone I want you to meet." She turns, nudging Rana towards you. The girl - or you suppose now, your half-sister, stares up at you nervously. She shares Mama's complexion and dark hair, but everything else speaks of features that must have come from her father. You remember the man you saw earlier, the one who embraced Mama and your feel your stomach twist. "This is Rana," Mama says, before glancing at the young girl. "Rana, this is $name." <<set $chp5_67 to 0>> [[Despite your feelings towards your mother, you will not hold it against Rana. You smile kindly at her.|chp5_68][$chp5_67 +=1, $ranaRel +=5, $showRanaRel to true, $salyraRel -=5]] [[You stare at Rana, suddenly conflicted with anger and betrayal. You never wanted a sister, you only wanted a mother.|chp5_68][$chp5_67 +=2, $showRanaRel to true]] [[A smile graces your lips as you look at Rana, grateful to have your mother back and a new sister.|chp5_68][$chp5_67 +=3, $ranaRel +=5, $salyraRel +=5, $showRanaRel to true]] [[You scowl at Rana and your mother. Does she think that you want to be a part of her new family?|chp5_68][$chp5_67 +=4, $salyraRel -=5, $ranaRel -=5, $showRanaRel to true]]

<<if $chp5_67 is 1>> Despite your feelings towards your mother, you will not hold it against Rana. You smile kindly at her. The young girl blushes when she notices your smile, gripping onto Mama's arm. Mama laughs and the sound is a paniful reminder of the life and childhood that you did not have. You swallow, suddenly uneasy. Mama notices your expression and her smile fades. "I have not seen your father anywhere," she states. "Did he remain in Cyre?" <<elseif $chp5_67 is 2>> You stare at Rana, suddenly conflicted with anger and betrayal. You never wanted a sister, you only wanted a mother. Rana stares at you, suddenly gripping onto Mama's arm and twisting behind her, as if afraid to look up at you. A look of disappointment flashes through Mama's eyes, but it is directed at //you//, not Rana. It is a look you remembered Mama using when anyone would upset you as a child and now, you find yourself bearing the full force of her frown. You would laugh were it not so painful to think about the life you were robbed while Mama evidently moved on. "Your father," Mama breathes. "Is he here with you?" <<elseif $chp5_67 is 3>> A smile graces your lips as you look at Rana, grateful to have your mother back and a new sister. A warmth blossoms in your chest, the knowledge that you are not alone suddenly filling you with relief. You did not think that you would find your mother again but now, you have and you have a sister too. Rana notices your smile and flushes slightly, before returning your expression. Mama looks at Rana with warmth, affection heavy in her gaze. It is a look you remember well, and one that you are grateful to see once more. Mama turns to you, tilting her head. "$name, where is your father? Did he come to Ishari with you?" <<elseif $chp5_67 is 4>> You scowl at Rana and your mother. Does she think that you want to be a part of her new family? Rana visibly shrinks under your glare and Mama instinctively steps in front of her. You stare at Mama, eyes narrowing as pain and anger swirl inside your stomach. She is treating you as if you are the Blood Guard and Rana is the only one she needs to protect. "$name," Mama warns. "Do not take out your anger on Rana. She is innocent in all of this." You scoff. "What did you expect from me? I am not interested in being part of your family." Mama looks away, frowning. "We are family, $name." She meets your eyes. "Your father, he is your family too. I tried my best to do what was right, but it was difficult, $name." "But it was not so difficult to find another man and have his child?" you demand. Mama stiffens at your words, frowning. "Your father and I-" "Do you even care where Ahlf is?" you ask. "Ahlf?" she repeats. "I thought he came with you." <</if>><<set $chp5_68 to 0>> [["He's dead," you answer, eyes prickling at the memory.|chp5_69][$chp5_68 +=1]] [["The Blood Guard killed him when he helped me and Prince Irus escape," you say.|chp5_69][$chp5_68 +=2]] [["He's dead," you spit. "But why would you even care?"|chp5_69][$chp5_68 +=3]]

<<if $chp5_68 is 1>> "He's dead," you answer, eyes prickling at the memory. Your throat tightens as your eyes burn, the memory of Ahlf's death searing through your thoughts. Mama stares at you, her eyes widening at your words. "What?" she asks. "How?" You shake your head, swallowing a painful lump. "It was the Blood Guard. They came to Salt Bay when they were looking for Prince Irus." Mama turns away, her fingers swiping at her eyes. When she returns her gaze on you, her face is hard, her expression reminding you of the night she left you with Ahlf to face the Blood Guard on her own. "I see," she breathes. "Did he at least get a proper burial?" "There was no time," you reply. "We had to flee. I... I do not know what happened to his body." <<elseif $chp5_68 is 2>> "The Blood Guard killed him when he helped me and Prince Irus escape," you say. Your words are hollow but you cannot change the past now. When Ahlf died, you did not stop to think about what would happen. You fled because it was the only thing you could have done. It has been over a month since his death and in that time, you have finally begun to understand that he is never going to return. "He helped you escape?" Mama asks. She frowns. "Why did he not escape with you?" "There was no time," you reply. "Everyone was being killed. We had to flee." "Ahlf sacrificed himself for you," she sighs, her eyes downcast. "I never thought he would have to face them again." Her voice breaks, wavering as she turns away from your gaze. Rana peers up at Mama, frightened as if she has never seen Mama cry before. <<elseif $chp5_68 is 3>> "He's dead," you spit. "But why would you even care?" Mama flinches at your tone, her lips pulling into a frown. Your anger is hot, a searing thing that burns you and spills past your lips. You want to yell at her for all the years that she was not in your life, for all those years that she had created a new family and forgotten all about you and Ahlf. "$name," she gasps. "Why would you ask me that? I cared for your father." You laugh, a bitter sound. "You cared for him?" You glance at Rana. "Where is her father?" Mama's eyes narrow, her lips pressing into a thin line. "You do not know what happened between your father and I in the end, but I never stopped caring about him, no matter what you might think." "It is clear that you do not care about what I think," you spit. "At least Ahlf never pretended to care, but you? You are far worse." <</if>> Rana begins tugging at Mama's hand. Mama turns away, glancing at Rana softly. The young girl whispers something in Mama's ear, before darting off into the courtyard. You watch her for a moment, enjoying the freedom to do as she pleases without concern. It is a jarring contrast to your own childhood. "$name," Mama murmurs. "You are my $heir and I know that I have not always been there for you, but I would like to remedy that. We cannot gain back what we have lost, but we have time now to find each other again." You open your mouth to respond but Mama shakes her head, offering you a small smile. "Think on it," she replies. "Give me your answer after you have thought it through." She hesitates, before leaning to brush your cheek and you... <<set $chp5_69 to 0>> [[...accept her touch, desperate to have her back in your life.|chp5_70][$chp5_69 +=1, $salyraRel +=5]] [[...stiffen, uncertain how to respond.|chp5_70][$chp5_69 +=2]] [[...flinch away, unwilling to endure her touch.|chp5_70][$chp5_69 +=3, $salyraRel -=5]] [[...slap her hand away, wanting nothing to do with her.|chp5_70][$chp5_69 +=4, $salyraRel -=5]]

<<if $chp5_69 is 1>> Her fingers are warm against your cheek and you lean into her touch, your eyes closing against Mama's gentleness. It has been years since you last felt her soft touch against your cheek. Her touch was always so comforting when you were a child and now is no different. She steadies you, grounding you to this moment with her. <<elseif $chp5_69 is 2>> You become stiff, your shoulders tensing as her fingers brush against your cheek. Mama must sense your unease at her touch because she withdraws her hand away, a slight frown on her face. She swallows, looking away before returning her eyes to yours. You wonder what she must be thinking about you and whether she is disappointed in what she sees in you. <<elseif $chp5_69 is 3>> You flinch against her outstretched palm, turning your face away from her fingers. Mama lets out a breath that comes out almost a sob as she stares at you. Her hand falls to her side and she studies your expression, a series of emotions flashing through her eyes. It is clear that neither of you know how to bridge the chasm that has widened between you and you are uncertain if it something that you want to do. <<elseif $chp5_69 is 4>> You hand collides with her wrist, shoving her touch away. Mama's eyes widen in response and for a moment, you think she might curse you out or worse, attack you. But then, she lets out a deep breath and turns to stare at where you struck her wrist. She does not say anything but from the way her shoulders tense, you realise that she is holding back her anger. <</if>> "I need to go," Mama murmurs. "Rana needs me, $name. So does Danzor." Danzor must be Rana's father, the man you saw embracing Mama earlier. She pauses, gazing at you. "He is a good man, $name," she says. "He would like to meet you after tonight. Please, consider it." She casts you a final look, before turning away and following in the direction that Rana ran off to. When she is gone, you let out a breath. Your mind twists uneasily and you can no longer know what to feel or think. Too much has happened and you have not had nearly enough time to deal with the events of tonight. With a sigh, you search the gathered faces, knowing that if you wish, you can distract yourself from what has happened by spending time with one of your companions. <<set $chp5_70 to "unknown">> [[You approach Prince Irus who stands at the far end of the courtyard.|chp5_71a][$chp5_70 to "Prince Irus"]] [[You head in the direction of Queen Elora, who sits under a tall tree.|chp5_71b][$chp5_70 to "Queen Elora"]] [[You approach Sir Oren who is surrounded by a group of children.|chp5_71c][$chp5_70 to "Sir Oren"]] [[You hurry after Anu who approaches the roaring fire.|chp5_71d][$chp5_70 to "Anu"]]

<<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "chp5_end" loop play>>Prince Irus stands apart from the rest of those gathered in the temple's courtyard, as you approach him. There is a light breeze in the air, enough to brush against the golden strands of his hair. In the heat of Urur, Prince Irus has rolled back the sleeves of his tunic, his arms exposed against the humid air. He notices your approach and offers you a smile when you come to stand beside him. None of those around you pay you much attention and you come to understand that despite you helping free the prisoners, they still have not come to trust Prince Irus as yet. "$name," he breathes. His eyes shift over your face. "How are you feeling after everything?" <<set $chp5_71a to 0>> [["I feel better after changing clothes," you reply, offering him a smile.|chp5_71a1][$chp5_71a +=1, $irusRel +=5]] [["It was difficult, being in the prison," you murmur. "But I am grateful to be back. It means that we are closer to securing the alliance."|chp5_71a1][$chp5_71a +=2, $irusRel +=5]] [["How do you think I feel?" you scoff. "I am tired after risking my life for this alliance."|chp5_71a1][$chp5_71a +=3, $irusRel -=5]] <<if $irus_lock is true>> [[♡"Better," you breathe, unable to admit that it is because you are back with him.|chp5_71a1][$chp5_71a +=4, $irusRel +=5, $irusRom +=5, $flirt_shy +=5]] [[♡"I am much better now that I am with you," you tease.|chp5_71a1][$chp5_71a +=5, $irusRel +=5, $irusRom +=5, $flirt_bold +=5]]<</if>>

<<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "chp5_end" loop play>>There is gentle breeze as you approach Queen Elora. She sits under a large tree, its branches curling like a dome, weighed down by its age. At your approach, Queen Elora looks up and smiles. She wears a loose dress now and her dark hair brushes against her shoulders in soft curls. "$name," she greets. "Have you come to join me?" You nod and take a seat beside Queen Elora. The ground is hard as you sit, but you find that you do not mind it much. From where you sit, you find the rest of the temple's residents scattered across the courtyard, their mood jovial. Queen Elora glances at you, her dark eyes filling with concern. "It must have been surprising when you found your mother," she murmurs. "I am sorry that you had to experience that." <<set $chp5_71b to 0>> [["It was surprising," you answer. You offer her a small smile. "But thank you for sympathising."|chp5_71b1][$chp5_71b +=1, $eloraRel +=5]] [["I never thought that I would see her again," you murmur. "It is all so confusing."|chp5_71b1][$chp5_71b +=2, $eloraRel +=5]] [["Do not pretend to care," you huff. "You would never understand what it's like."|chp5_71b1][$chp5_71b +=3, $eloraRel -=5]] [[♡"Thank you," you breathe, flushing from her concern.|chp5_71b1][$chp5_71b +=4, $eloraRel +=5, $eloraRom +=5, $shy_elora +=5]] [[♡"You do not need to look so sad for me," you tease. "After all, how could I possibly be upset when I am seated next to you?"|chp5_71b1][$chp5_71b +=5, $eloraRel +=5, $eloraRom +=5, $bold_elora +=5]]

<<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "chp5_end" loop play>>You hear the sound of laughter as you approach Sir Oren. He is surrounded by a group of children who you remember seeing earlier in the temple courtyard. His eyes are warm when he looks up and finds you. The children run past you, nearly knocking into you as you make your way to Sir Oren. "$name," Sir Oren greets, his gaze softening. "You must be proud of what you have accomplished tonight. You have given many of the prisoners hope when you freed them." There is evident reverence in Sir Oren's voice as he looks at you. His expression is kind and beneath it, you notice a glimmer of admiration. <<set $chp5_71c to 0>> [["I was only doing what needed to be done," you answer, smiling slightly.|chp5_71c1][$chp5_71c +=1, $orenRel +=5]] [["I am glad to have helped them," you murmur.|chp5_71c1][$chp5_71c +=2, $orenRel +=5]] [["Of course I am proud of what I have done," you snap. "It is more than you ever have."|chp5_71c1][$chp5_71c +=3, $orenRel -=5]] [[♡"I..." you mumble, your words dying on your tongue under his gaze.|chp5_71c1][$chp5_71c +=4, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5, $shy_oren +=5]] [[♡"Thank you, Captain," you tease, grinning at his flushing cheeks.|chp5_71c1][$chp5_71c +=5, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5, $bold_oren +=5]]

<<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "chp5_end" loop play>>Anu walks fast, her strides long and determined as she makes her way towards the fire. She does not notice you and you pause, watching her lips move silently before she casts a small bundle, no bigger than her palm, into the flames. The fire crackles and spits, with smoke billowing towards the sky as the embers glow brightly against the ground. Anu turns, before she finally notices you. She no longer wears armour, but a loose tunic and a long skirt. "$name," she says. "How long have you been standing there?" You open your mouth to reply, but she interrupts you. "It is rude to watch others make offerings to the Ancient Ones," she states. "But I suppose your aid tonight has granted you some leniency." <<set $chp5_71d to 0>> [["I did not mean to intrude," you apologise, flashing her a small smile.|chp5_71d1][$chp5_71d +=1, $anuRel +=5]] [["What was in that bundle you cast into the fire?" you question, curious.|chp5_71d1][$chp5_71d +=2, $anuRel +=5]] [["Some leniency?" you demand. "I did more than most to help free the prisoners. I expect more than just some leniency."|chp5_71d1][$chp5_71d +=3, $anuRel -=5]] [[♡"Oh," you mumble, flushing at the way she looks at you.|chp5_71d1][$chp5_71d +=4, $anuRel +=5, $anuRom +=5, $shy_anu +=5]] [[♡"Only leniency? I was hoping for something more," you breathe, smirking at her.|chp5_71d1][$chp5_71d +=5, $anuRel +=5, $anuRom +=5, $bold_anu +=5]]

<<if $chp5_71a is 1>> "I feel better after changing clothes," you reply, offering him a smile. Your response draws a smile from Prince Irus and you find yourself relaxing in his presence. Being away from him for the first time since you began your journey had been a strange feeling, but now that you are standing beside him, you no longer feel nearly as alone as you had. "I am glad," he replies. He lets out a breath, staring across the courtyard. "I was worried that something might happen to you. I am grateful that you are back, $name." You swallow, nodding. <<if $irusRel gte 65>>Being with Prince Irus has reminded you about how much you have come to depend on him, a thing that seemed laughable when you first met.<<else>>Being back with Prince Irus is a grounding thing, his is a presence that has been with you since you fled Salt Bay and perhaps it is familiarity or perhaps it is friendship, but you are glad to be back.<</if>> <<elseif $chp5_71a is 2>> "It was difficult, being in the prison," you murmur. "But I am grateful to be back. It means that we are closer to securing the alliance." You remember the horrors you witnessed, the prisoners who were hurt and those who were barely old enough to know what was happening to them. It has been a difficult task and one that you are grateful that resulted in the freedom of those captured. Your success means that you have managed to earn the trust of the people of Ishari and perhaps, with their aid, you will secure an alliance with their ruler. "$name," Prince Irus says, turning to you. "I am grateful for everything you have done." You blink, looking at him. "What do you mean?" He smiles, a wry expression in his gaze. "You have done more for me than anyone I have ever known. I... I cannot help but feel as if I have not done anything to warrant such loyalty from you." You smile, offering him a gentle look. "I helped you because I chose this path, Irus. You do not have to do anything to gain my aid." He lets out a breath, his lips pulling upwards. "Thank you." <<elseif $chp5_71a is 3>> "How do you think I feel?" you scoff. "I am tired after risking my life for this alliance." Prince Irus stares at you, his eyes flashing with irritation. You are tired and you have done more for the alliance that Prince Irus has. He lets out a breath, a chocked sound that only frustrates you further. You can feel the mounting tension along your shoulders, the weight enough to tear through your soul. "I never asked you to join them," he breathes. "You did not have to," you snap. "There was no other choice." Prince Irus scowls at you. "There is always a choice, $name." You stare at him, uncertain whether to laugh or to punch him in the face. He was not the one who witnessed the horrors of the prison. You were the one who garnered the trust of the people of Ishari and now, you are the one who has a mother in the temple. "And what would the alternative have been?" you ask. "You would have done what to garner the trust of Ishari?" Prince Irus' lips press into a thin line and he turns away from your pointed stare, unable to respond. <<elseif $chp5_71a is 4>> "Better," you breathe, unable to admit that it is because you are back with him. Your voice is barely a whisper when you reply but the sound draws Prince Irus' attention onto you. He stares at your face, his blue eyes locking with your gaze and in that moment, a shiver of longing runs through you. Prince Irus must see something in your expression because in the next moment, he is drawing you into his arms, his breath warm against your neck. "I did not think I would see you again," he gasps. His fingers tighten around your shoulders, his grip unwavering as he holds you. You bury your face into his warmth, enjoying the solidness of his chest and the familiar smell of his skin. It is difficult to pull away, but eventually, Prince Irus draws back though his hands still linger on your shoulders. "I told you that I would return," you breathe. He smiles, nodding. "You did." You reach up, your fingers brushing the side of his face. There is a light stubble growing along his chin and face, the strands short and rough under your fingers. Prince Irus smiles, pressing his palm over your touch before drawing your fingers to his lips. He kisses the tips of your fingers, each kiss enough to make your breathing hitch. "I am grateful that you are back, $name," he breaths against your fingers. "I do not know what I would do without you by my side." <<elseif $chp5_71a is 5>> "I am much better now that I am with you," you tease. The lilt in your voice draws Prince Irus' eyes towards you, his eyes locking with yours. You shudder under the intensity of his gaze, enjoying the way his eyes rake over your form before settling on your lips. Prince Irus steps closer so that the space between you becomes warm from his heat. He grasps the side of your face, tilting his head as he stares at you. "I was nearly mad with worry from your absence." His voice is low, a husky sound that sends a shiver down your spine. You cannot help but push closer against him, wanting to feel his solid weight against you, enjoying the way your stomach tugs at your proximity. You rest your hands on his chest, pressing him against you, wanting to feel the firmness of his muscles even through the soft fabric of his tunic. It was nothing," you assure him. "It was only a few hours apart." Prince Irus presses his lips against your forehead, his breath warm as he speaks against your skin. "Yet, it felt like a lifetime." <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_71a2]]

There is a burst of laughter and your eyes dart towards the sound. You find a small group of children running through the courtyard. They come speeding past you and you spot Rana with them, seemingly unaware of her path towards you. One of the children darts past Prince Irus and then, you hear an audible gasp. Turning, you find Rana at Prince Irus' feet. Her knees are dusty and her palms rest on the ground. She has fallen, you realise but before you can do anything, Prince Irus is bending over to help her to her feet. "Are you alright?" he asks, gazing at Rana. She stares at him, her eyes wide and manages a small nod. Peering at her closer, you realise that her cheeks are reddening under the attention of Prince Irus. As soon as he lets go of her shoulders, she runs off, stealing a glance back at him. "I hope she is alright," he murmurs. <<set $chp5_71a2 to 0>> [["I think she is more than alright," you answer. "It seems that you might have a new admirer."|chp5_71a3][$chp5_71a2 +=1]] [["She is fine," you respond, still upset about discovering Rana's existence.|chp5_71a3][$chp5_71a2 +=2]] [["I hope so too," you reply, thinking about your relationship with her.|chp5_71a3][$chp5_71a2 +=3]] [["She should have been watching where she was going," you snap.|chp5_71a3][$chp5_71a2 +=4]]

<<if $chp5_71a2 is 1>> "I think she is more than alright," you answer. "It seems that you might have a new admirer." You grin when Prince Irus turns towards you with furrowed eyebrows. He stares at you, incredulous or perhaps, surprised by your remark. Rana is young, but even she is not immune to Prince Irus' good looks, it would seem and judging by the way Prince Irus turns in the direction of where Rana disappeared, you can tell he is going over what happened. "She was only shy," he replies. "It was nothing." You raise an eyebrow. "So you say." Prince Irus stares at you, a playful gleam in his eye. "It seems as if you are jealous, $name." You huff. "Jealous? Of Rana?" Her name slips out and catches Prince Irus by surprise. You stop short, noticing his blue eyes searching your face. "You know her name?" he asks. "I... my mother had another child," you admit. <<elseif $chp5_71a2 is 2>> "She is fine," you respond, still upset about discovering Rana's existence. You thought that it would have been easy to forget about your mother and Rana, if only for a moment. But it is a difficult thing to do especailly when you seem unable to escape their presence. Prince Irus glances at you, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. "$name, are you alright?" he asks. You shrug and remain silent. Admitting to him about the turmoil you feel is a difficult thing to do. You can barely think past the encounter you just had with your mother before finding Prince Irus. It is enough to make you squirm with nerves, your mind racing to keep up with the thoughts that gallop in your head. "She is... that girl is Rana," you explain. "My mother had another child when she returned to Ishari." <<elseif $chp5_71a2 is 3>> "I hope so too," you reply, thinking about your relationship with her. Rana is a child, still young and innocent. And yet, as you watch her run around the courtyard, her smile wide and her eyes darting towards Mama, you cannot help the small stab of envy in your chest. You did not get the childhood you wanted and worst of all, you did not have a life with Mama. Though you might be half-siblings, it is still difficult to know what Rana might feel towards you. She has barely spoken, her shyness or perhaps her fear towards you has left you with so many unanswered question about who she is. "$name," Prince Irus calls. He stares at you, frowning. "What is it?" "What would you say if I told you that my mother had another child when she returned to Ishari?" you ask. Prince Irus' eyes widen and he glances in Rana's direction. "You cannot mean to say-" "She is Rana, my mother's second child," you respond. <<elseif $chp5_71a2 is 4>> "She should have been watching where she was going," you snap. There is rage and frustration in your tone, the anger of everything that you discovered tonight enough to make your jaws clench tightly. Prince Irus frowns, glancing at you with a raised eyebrow. You avoid his gaze, unable to meet his questioning look when you are still uncertain how to broach the subject of your mother's new life. "She is only a child, $name," Prince Irus responds. "I do not think she intended to knock into my legs." You frown. "It does not matter. She-" "Why are you so upset about this?" Prince Irus asks, interrupting you. He frowns. "What is it about her that has made you this angry?" You swallow a hard lump as you meet the blue of his eyes. "She is Rana, my mother's other child." <</if>> Prince Irus stares at you, his expression twisted into one of focus. His eyes dart between you and Rana, as if trying to make sense of what you have just said. A moment passes, before he finally seems to gather his thoughts. "Blood and tears," he breathes. "Why did you not tell us earlier?" You shrug. "I did not have the words to explain everything that I discovered tonight. My mother, she didn't even know that my father was dead." "$name," he murmurs. "I am sorry." [[Next.|chp5_71a4]]

A heavy breath leaves you and you turn, your eyes settling over the courtyard. For a moment, you catch sight of your mother, but she does not see you. After returning to the temple, she has washed and changed, the priestesses who had been chanting earlier, now crowding around her. Anu called Mama the High Priestess and you cannot help but wonder just how long she has been in Ishari. Perhaps as if sensing your gaze, Mama turns and catches your eyes. A strange look passes over her face and you realise that she has noticed Prince Irus at your side. She does not approach you, but you can tell that she has as many questions about you as you do about her. "$name," Prince Irus calls. You turn towards him, finding his eyes already on you. <<if $irus_lock is false>><<set $irus_chp5_alone to false>> "I will be retiring for the night," he murmurs. "Will you be alright?" You nod in response. "I think that I will retire for the night too." [[Next.|chp5_71_irusEnd]] <<else>><<set $irus_chp5_alone to false>> "Perhaps we can find somewhere quieter to talk?" he asks. Your heartbeat quickens at the prospect of being alone with Prince Irus. Though, he is not forceful in the way that he gazes at you and you realise that he is giving you an opportunity to deny him. After all, it has been a tiring night and you could use some rest. [[You nod in agreement, following Prince Irus away from the courtyard.|chp5_71a5][$irus_chp5_alone to true, $irusRom +=10]] [[You shake your head, wanting to rest instead.|chp5_71_irusEnd][$irusRom +=10]] <</if>>

It is late and your limbs ache as you and Prince Irus return to the narrow hallway that houses your rooms. The temple is quiet, a soft hush falling over its interior while the outside still throbs with laughter and noise. Prince Irus pauses outside your door as you finally reach your room. <<if $irus_lock is true>> He leans over, drawing you into his chest, before pressing a soft kiss against your cheek. "Sleep well, Beloved." You shudder against his hold, basking in his heat. When he draws away, he offers you a soft smile, one that sends a surge of warmth through you. With a final glance, he turns away and heads towards his own room for the night. <<else>> "Rest well, $name," he breathes. "You have done well tonight." You nod in response, watching a flash of a smile grace his lips before he draws away and heads towards his room. <</if>> With a heavy sigh, you slip into your room, discarding your boots as you slip into the narrow cot. Sleep claims you quickly and you finally find quiet. [[Next.|chp5_end]]

Prince Irus reaches for your hand, threading your fingers together as he leads you towards the temple. It is easy enough to become lost in the sensation of his touch, the heat of his hand against your sending a thrill down your spine. Weaving past the throngs of priestesses and warriors, Prince Irus leads you up the stairwell towards the narrow hallway where your rooms rest. It is quiet as you slip into his room, the hush of the temple's interior making it seem as if it is only the two of you. The door closes behind him and Prince Irus releases your hands before moving to the far side of his room. "Ellie brought some tea with her," Prince Irus explains, smiling. "I thought you would like some?" <<set $chp5_71a5 to 0>> [[You nod, your mouth dry as you squirm in your spot.|chp5_71a6][$chp5_71a5 +=1]] [["Yes," you breathe, wanting an excuse to stay as long as you can.|chp5_71a6][$chp5_71a5 +=2]] [["That would be lovely," you answer, smiling at him.|chp5_71a6][$chp5_71a5 +=3]] [["Just tea?" you ask, teasing.|chp5_71a6][$chp5_71a5 +=4]]

<<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "chp6" loop play>><div class="heading">Chapter Six</div><div class="borderstyle">p</div> <div class="timeline">Age of Aedes, Year 544, Spring</div> <<if $irus_sex is true>> <center>[[Begin.|chp6_start]]</center><<elseif $irus_stay is true>><center>[[Begin.|chp6_start]]</center><<elseif $chp5_71a11 is 1>><center>[[Begin.|chp6_start]]</center><<else>><center>[[Begin.|chp6_ALTstart]]</center><</if>> <center><<linkreplace "Trigger warnings." t8n>>Mentions of warfare, fictional religious discrimination, mentions of violence, parental abandonment and neglect, anxiety and emotional stress.<</linkreplace>></center>

<<if $chp5_71a5 is 1>> You nod, your mouth dry as you squirm in your spot. Prince Irus' smile softens when he notices you nervousness and he reaches out, his warm hand steadying you. Leading you towards the edge of his bed, he gestures for you to sit. Your legs crumple under your weight as Prince Irus turns to pour the tea. While his back is turned away, you take a moment to steady your erratic breathing and to quell the thoughts that tumble in your mind. But it a difficult task made even harder when Prince Irus passes you a glass pot with steaming tea. It is aromatic, a rich taste that lets you busy your hands and eyes so that you do not have to look up at Prince Irus as he watches you. You cannot tell if the smile on his face is amused or perhaps, affectionate but the moment your eyes meet, his lips pull wider into a grin and you find that you are unable to hold his gaze. <<elseif $chp5_71a5 is 2>> "Yes," you breathe, wanting an excuse to stay as long as you can. He smiles softly in response, nodding towards his bed. You hesitate, but after a moment, you take a tentative seat on the edge of the narrow cot. His room, like yours, is sparsely furnished and the space of the floor is enough so that you do not bump into Prince Irus, but not enough to keep your distance. As he turns his attention to the small pot of tea, you use the time to study his profile. There is not much space between him and the window, yet there's enough room for you to see him clearly, to watch how his hair falls over his forehead when he leans slightly forward and the way his eyelashes flutter against the pale skin of his cheek. He catches your eyes and for a moment, you forget how to breathe. A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips and he returns to you, passing you a glass mug of tea. You sip at the ember liquid, the taste floral and sweet, but it does nothing to draw your attention to the way Prince Irus gazes at you or the way you warm under his eyes. <<elseif $chp5_71a5 is 3>> "That would be lovely," you answer, smiling at him. "Take a seat," he replies, gesturing towards his bed. His room, like yours, is sparsely furnished and with no other seat available, you make your way to the edge of his cot. As you sit, Prince Irus turns his attention to the small pot of tea that sits on a wooden table. He turns his back to you and you use the moment to study him. The golden curls of his hair have begun to grow past his ears and you fight the urge to reach out and brush them away from his face. Instead, you note the almost golden glow of his skin, sunburnt from being out in the sun for so long and the way his broad shoulders seem to fill out the light material of his tunic. When Prince Irus returns, he wears a smile, passing you the glass mug of tea. You warm under his gaze, sipping the sweet tea and enjoying the burst of flavour against your tongue. It is a moment where neither of you speak and yet, you find yourself wanting it to stretch on forever. <<elseif $chp5_71a5 is 4>> "Just tea?" you ask, teasing. Prince Irus chuckles, his eyes lighting with mirth and yearning. It is enough to tug at your chest, to make your proximity seem too far apart, but Prince Irus turns away from you before you can close the distance. "Sit," he instructs. "We can have tea first." His tone is light, a grin pulling at the corners of his lips but you refrain from doing anything more. Instead, you take a seat on his small bed, narrow and hard like the one in your room. Prince Irus turns his attention to the small pot of tea, the ease in the way he works drawing your attention to his face. He is more handsome than he ought to be, and yet, it is more than the strong lines of his jaw or the straightness of his nose. It is the way he smiles, a soft expression that glimmers in the blue of his eyes. For a moment,y our breath catches in the back of your throat and you find that you cannot turn stop staring at him, even as he passes you your glass mug of tea. <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_71a7]]

Prince Irus moves to take a seat beside you, placing enough space between so that you can still stretch your legs out without knocking into his. He glances at you, a quick sweep of his eyes over your form and a swell of yearning twists in your gut. "I thought that perhaps we can talk about things that do not deal with our families and our past," he murmurs. "We have barely had any time to just talk about ourselves, $name." You gaze at him. "What do you mean?" Prince Irus shrugs. "For one, I do not know if you have ever swam in the ocean before." "I am a fisherman's $heir," you reply, smiling. "It would be strange if I never swam in the ocean before." "See? We are already learning so much about each other," Prince Irus answers. You nod, conceding to him. There truly has not been much time to simply talk. Whenever you have spoken, it has always been against the perils of your journey or the pain of your past. <<set $chp5_71a7 to 0>> [["What is your favourite colour?" you ask, curious.|chp5_71a8][$chp5_71a7 +=1]] [["Do you prefer the night or day?" you question.|chp5_71a8][$chp5_71a7 +=2]] [["If there is one meal that you could not do without, what would it be?" you query.|chp5_71a8][$chp5_71a7 +=3]]

<<if $chp5_71a7 is 1>> "What is your favourite colour?" you ask, curious. Prince Irus frowns in thought, before answering. "I have not given it much thought." You raise an eyebrow in surprise, staring at him. "Truly?" He shrugs. "What can I say, $name? I had other things to occupy my time before my exile." He offers you a languid smirk and you fight back the urge to laugh. It is the most at ease that Prince Irus has looked and you are gladdened to know that it is with you. "If you had to choose then, what would it be?" you ask. He stares at you, his gaze unwavering and his lips quiver as if trying to hold back a grin. "Blue." "You only said that because that's the colour of your eyes," you huff. Prince Irus shrugs, his only response a burst of laughter rumbling in his chest. <<elseif $chp5_71a7 is 2>> "Do you prefer the night or day?" you question. He lets out a breath, leaning against the wall behind you. His eyebrows furrowing, Prince Irus seems to think over your question, as if you have asked him about the state of affairs of the kingdom. You gaze at him, enjoying the way the glow of the oil lamp flickers against his face. "The day," he answers, after a moment. "Too many things can happen at night when you are unaware." You think about the reason for your journey and the night the Blood Guard destroyed Salt Bay. The memories only serve to sour the moment between you and Prince Irus and you push them away, wanting to enjoy your time with him without thinking about everything that has happened. Prince Irus glances at you, his eyes softening. "I also like how the sunlight looks in your eyes." His fingers brush against your cheek and you let out a sharp breath, shuddering against his touch. <<elseif $chp5_71a7 is 3>> "If there is one meal that you could not do without, what would it be?" you query. Prince Irus' lips pull into a grin as he regards you. You meet his gaze, the blue of his irises a dark colour, almost like the colour of the sea during a thunderstorm. "Out of all the questions you could have asked me, you chose to ask me about my favourite meal?" he asks. You shrug. "I do not know what you enjoy eating. Are you a spoilt prince who only eats the best of meals or do you prefer a stale loaf of bread when you are on the run?" Your teasing elicits a boom of laughter from Prince Irus, the sound warm and light. His eyes are warm as they meet yours and you find yourself leaning closer, enjoying the heat that seeps into your bones from his proximity. "I do indeed enjoy dry bread every once in a while," he chuckles. "You do?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. He smiles. "It reminds me of our early days together." <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_71a9]]

Your conversation with Prince Irus becomes easier as the night wears on, the glow of the oil lamp dimming as the hours pass. Soon, the only remains of the tea you shared are the few dark spots where the leaves soaked into the water. Prince Irus stretches, his arms reaching above his neck and you stare at the strong lines of his form. He catches your eyes, smiling. "I suppose it is late and we both need our rest." You glance at the sliver of darkness through the slat of the window. During your time together, you did not realise that the sounds from outside had lowered into silence. You hear no voices or footsteps with most of the temple's inhabitants already retired for the night. <<set $chp5_71a9 to 0>> [["You are right," you say. "Thank you for tonight, Irus. I will see myself out."|chp5_71a9_end]] [["Yes," you mumble, but find yourself unable to leave.|chp5_71a10][$chp5_71a9 +=1]] [["I would rather not be alone tonight," you murmur.|chp5_71a10][$chp5_71a9 +=2]] [[You are silent, your heartbeat thudding loudly as you stare at Prince Irus, wanting this night to never end.|chp5_71a10][$chp5_71a9 +=3]]

Prince Irus follows you all to the doorway of his room, his eyes warm as he regards you. You turn to gaze at him, enjoying the graze of his light touch along your cheek. He leans closer, his lips soft on your temple before you return to your room only a few paces away. You can still feel his warmth, smiling all the way as you crawl into your own bed. Your heart thuds loudly in your chest and as your draw into the blankets, you find yourself drifting to sleep, your thoughts on Prince Irus. [[Next.|chp5_end]]

<<if $chp5_71a9 is 1>> "Yes," you mumble, but find yourself unable to leave. You cannot seem to look away from Prince Irus. His eyes find yours, a small smile settling over the fullness of his mouth. Heat sweeps over you, as though you have been blanketed by the sun. You gaze at him, yearning and desperate, suddenly afflicted with the thought of never wanting to leave his side. "$name?" he calls. He draws closer, the space between you closing. "Do you wish to stay?" <<elseif $chp5_71a9 is 2>> "I would rather not be alone tonight," you murmur. Your voice comes out softer than you intended and yet, it is enough to draw Prince Irus' gaze towards you. His blue eyes search your face, a deepness in his expression that makes your heart lurch and your chest tighten. You shudder as his fingers brush the side of your cheek, enjoying the heat that blossoms across your face. "Oh?" he murmurs. "Do you wish to stay?" <<elseif $chp5_71a9 is 3>> You are silent, your heartbeat thudding loudly as you stare at Prince Irus, wanting this night to never end. Can he hear your heartbeat, you wonder? When you do not move, Prince Irus sits straighter, his blue eyes taking in your expression and his gaze softens. A breath escapes you as he shifts closer, his heat nearly palpable against your skin. "$name," he breathes, his fingers curling against your chin. His voice comes out deep, a breathy sound that causes your skin to erupt in goose pimples. Slowly, his fingers dip towards your neck, sending your heart soaring. You shudder, as heat spreads through your face and chest, the warmth of Prince Irus nearly intoxicating. "Do you wish to stay?" he asks. <</if>> You swallow, taking in his question and the implication of what it means for your relationship. Certainly, you have shared the same space before when you were fleeing, but something in the way that Prince Irus looks at you tells you that tonight would be different. There is an unspoken thought between you. If you stay here tonight, you will be committing yourself to Prince Irus in a way that you can never take back. [[You stay.|chp5_71a11]] [[You made a mistake, this is not what you wanted. You leave.|chp5_71a9_end]]

"I want to just lie here with you," you breathe. Prince Irus nods, his lips pulling into a gentle smile. Slowly, he draws you into his chest, his fingers tickling the nape of your neck. His touch is searing, a heat that surges through you and yet, comforting at the same time. When he leans against the mattress of his cot, he tugs at your wrist, drawing you against his form. <<if $height is "tall">>Your legs tangle with Prince Irus' on the bed, the bed too small to hold the two of you fully but a single tug from Prince Irus draws you closer, so that you lie pressed against each other.<<elseif $height is "average">>Prince Irus legs are slightly longer than yours, and your find your feet tangling against his legs. The bed is not nearly large enough for the both of you and yet, a single tug from Prince Irus is enough to remedy the problem as you are drawn closer to his side.<<elseif $height is "short">>You are much shorter than Prince Irus and easily fit in the small space of his narrow cot. Yet, he draws you closer, pressing you into his hold as you lie side-by-side in the bed.<</if>> "I could remain here for eternity," Prince Irus breathes. His voice is low, rumbling against your ear. He strokes the side of your face, kissing your brow. "My Beloved." A shiver runs through your spine and you... <<set $chp5_71_IrusRom1 to 0>> [[...bury your face into his neck.|chp5_71_irusRom][$chp5_71_IrusRom1 +=1]] [[...wrap your arms tightly around his chest.|chp5_71_irusRom][$chp5_71_IrusRom1 +=2]] [[...kiss along his jawline before capturing his lips with yours.|chp5_71_irusRom][$chp5_71_IrusRom1 +=3]]

<<if $chp5_71a11 is 1>> "I want you," you breathe, staring at his mouth. There is little time for doubt, not when you gaze upon his face, watching as Prince Irus' eyes darken at your words. He surges forward, drawing you close so that your mouth is swallowed entirely by his lips and devouring tongue. You gasp into his mouth, hands grabbing fistfuls of his tunic as you press against his chest. It is a demanding kiss that leaves both of you breathless but it is only the beginning. When Prince Irus finally pulls away, his mouth glistens. "Then you shall have me tonight, Beloved." <<elseif $chp5_71a11 is 2>> "I... I..." you stammer, too shy to voice what you want. Your voice is barely a murmur and you flush, with need and shame as the thoughts of finally being with Prince Irus overwhelm you. You cannot breath or speak, for fear that your voice will betray you. Prince Irus draws you closer, his touch gentle as he cups the side of your face softly. "$name," he breathes. "My Beloved. I want you but only as much as you are willing to give." You swallow, your mouth dry. "I... I want you too." "Then, you shall have me," he breathes. <</if>> There is an undercurrent of urgency in the way that Prince Irus captures your mouth in his, a hunger that goes beyond light touches and stolen kisses. In this moment you're aware of every detail of his body. His chest feels strong enough to hold all your weight when pressed against it and you tremble as his fingers run over your shoulders, mapping your shape. The sensation he evokes in you is dizzying with desire. <<set $fade_irus to false>> [[You let it consume you.|chp5_71_irus_fade][$fade_irus to true]] //<<linkreplace "''(?)''" t8n>>This choice leads to fade-to-black sexual content.<</linkreplace>>// [[You let it consume you.|chp_71_irus_sex1]] //<<linkreplace "''(?)''" t8n>>This choice leads to explicit sexual content.<</linkreplace>>//

<<if $chp5_71_IrusRom1 is 1>> The scent of him is intoxicating, a familiar thing and yet, it sends a thrill of excitement down your spine. You sigh, the material of his tunic soft against your cheek and the heat of his chest only lulls you into a sense of calm. Prince Irus strokes the side of your face, his fingers curling against your chin as he peers at you. There is something warm in his eyes; you can't quite decipher what he's thinking - but the way he gazes at you, tenderly, makes your heart stutter. He traces his fingertips over the back of your hand, the pads of his fingernails brushing against your skin. He pauses, before bringing your fingertips to his mouth, kissing each of your fingers gently. Heat spreads from his lips to your fingers, running up your arm until your breaths come out sharply. <<elseif $chp5_71_IrusRom1 is 2>> His chest is wide beneath your hold. He feels so warm, so safe. The scent of his skin fills your senses, making you dizzy. You press closer and sigh, sinking further into his embrace as a sense of security and peace settles deep into your bones. Prince Irus drags his fingers along your spine, his fingertips grazing the bottom of your tunic, then slipping beneath the material. A sharp breath leaves you as his hands creep against the bare skin of your back, his palms smooth as they slip over the ridges in your spine and draw you closer into his hold. His breath fans across your hair and you hum contently, leaning into him further. Prince Irus's body fits perfectly against yours and he sighs deeply, pulling you impossibly closer. <<elseif $chp5_71_IrusRom1 is 3>> His jaw is slightly rough, the stubble from being unshaven bristling against your lips. Prince Irus hums, leaning down so you can reach his neck better. His lips are softer than velvet - the sensation sends a jolt through your body and you feel your toes curl. You are lost as he pulls away, only for him to lean back in. Your heart stutters as his lips move over yours softly, tenderly, his tongue sweeping across your mouth with a hint of teasing. It is not enough, however, not when he is kissing you like this, not until you taste every last drop of passion on his lips. You press yourself up against him as best you can, wanting more, needing more, and Prince Irus lets out a breathy laugh. He shifts until you both are lying flat on the bed, your arms wrapped around his neck. His kisses move from your mouth to your chin before pulling away, his breathing unsteady. <</if>> "I have not felt like this before, $name," he murmurs. His eyes are dark as he gazes at you, his breath grazing you softly as he shifts closer, so that you can feel every single ridge of his body against yours. His skin is warm from the sun and he smells faintly of smoke and something deeper, a scent that draws you closer until there is only a sliver of space between you. As you drink in his features, taking in his gaze, you realise that... <<set $chp5_71irusRom to 0>> [[...you are falling in love with him.|chp5_71_irusRom1][$chp5_71irusRom +=1, $irusRom +=10]] [[...you have never felt this way before either.|chp5_71_irusRom1][$chp5_71irusRom +=2, $irusRom +=5]]

<<if $chp5_71irusRom is 1>> The thought hits you suddenly, as though squeezing the air from your lungs and leaving you breathless. You do not know how long this feeling has been building, but it settles in your chest with a deep finality. Prince Irus is handsome beyond any man and his smile is teasing. But, there is more to his gaze, a sense of longing and a gentleness in his care that has left you desperate for him. Neither of you speak for a time, simply enjoying the way you feel curled against each other. It is a tenderness you have never experienced before, one that leaves no room for words. Your arms are entwined around him, fingers stroking up and down his arms as if to reassure yourselves both of your physicality and of the fact that this moment exists. It is a comfort neither of you wants to take for granted, and you revel in the feel of the other's warmth and heat against yours. You are happy here, with him in his bed, safe. <<elseif $chp5_71irusRom is 2>> You never have been so close to anyone before. He takes up your entire consciousness and it seems almost impossible for you to breathe without him. You stare into each other's eyes with a strange intensity, lost to all else but your desire to be near him again. Your heart beats frantically in your chest as his arms reach out and pull you in even tighter. The two of you fit together perfectly and you cannot tell where one end of you ends and the other begins. It feels as if nothing in the world exists outside of his embrace and you can hardly remember what life before Prince Irus ever felt like. But even more than the physical closeness of him - his warmth and his scent and the softness of his touch – you feel something else. It is a sense of safety. There is comfort in knowing that someone is here with you, protecting you. And perhaps it is this need for security, the yearning to be closer that draws you and Prince Irus to each other. <</if>><<set $chp5_71irusRom1 to 0>> [[You close your eyes, falling asleep, curled against his chest.|chp5_71_irusRom2][$chp5_71irusRom1 +=1]] [[You draw Prince Irus into your chest, wrapped around him as you fall asleep.|chp5_71_irusRom2][$chp5_71irusRom1 +=2]] [[You lie side-by-side with Prince Irus, your legs tangled as you fall asleep beside him.|chp5_71_irusRom2][$chp5_71irusRom1 +=3]]

<<if $chp5_71irusRom1 is 1>> You close your eyes, falling asleep, curled against his chest. His arms are strong, a grip that encloses you against his broadness. You shift as you both slip into the bed, the narrow mattress barely wide enough to fit you both comfortably. His long legs reach towards yours, one hand loosely resting on top of yours as his fingers thread through yours. You breathe in the scent of him and smile when he murmurs something incoherently against your neck. Sleep pulls at you slowly, the gentle tug of its weight drawing you deeper into Prince Irus' embrace. Your breathing deepens as you bask in his warmth, the way his touch lingers on your waist and tighten when you shift, as though afraid to let you go. He squeezes you, a gentle reassurance and slowly, you lose all thoughts as you fall into a peaceful slumber. <<elseif $chp5_71irusRom1 is 2>> You draw Prince Irus into your chest, wrapped around him as you fall asleep. He snuggles into your neck, the softness of his hair tickling your cheeks. The two of you are curled up together, a pillow on one side and a thin blanket over both of you on the other. Your legs tangle with his and your arms wrap around his waist. He lets out a deep breath and you shudder against the vibrations that run through your arms. His skin feels like silk against yours, warm and smooth. You feel his chest rise against your cheek, and he lets out another low breath as he nuzzles further against your face, pressing himself closer to you, as if reluctant to draw away. You sigh softly in contentment, running your hands down his back. The warmth of his skin makes you shiver slightly, As long as he’s with you, there is nothing else in the world that could ruin this moment for you. Slowly, sleep pulls at your eyes, the heaviness drawing you against Prince Irus and you allow yourself to be consumed by dreams. <<elseif $chp5_71irusRom1 is 3>> You lie side-by-side with Prince Irus, your legs tangled as you fall asleep beside him. He is warm and solid, a comforting presence next to your own body heat. You feel secure here, protected by the hold of his arm around you. There is an easiness in the way that you lie together, the bed cramped and yet, you do not mind being pressed against his side. A sigh escapes you, one that releases the tension of the day and allows you to sink into the mattress of the bed. Prince Irus' legs slip between yours, his closeness enough to lull you into a comfortable silence. Your eyes close without much effort, just the sound of his breathing and steady heartbeat to keep you company. You shift, your head turning to face him, so you see his expression for yourself. His eyelashes are long and thick against his cheek. You snuggle closer, enoying the touch of his hand against your back as sleep finally steals you into thoughtlessness. <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_end]]

There is little to be said in the darkness of Prince Irus' room, the oil lamp long since burnt off. Your head swirls with dizziness, a deep yearning in the pit of your stomach as Prince Irus brings you into his hold. His touch is searing, setting your skin alight as you are stripped of your tunic and trousers before feeling the cool breeze against your bare skin. You shiver, but the feeling becomes entirely overwhelming when Prince Irus replaces your clothes, his skin hot against yours. A gasp escapes your mouth, your lips stolen with his own as you finally join together. You know nothing else exists but Prince Irus, the soft caress of his hair against your cheek, the erratic sound of his heart beating against yours as he kisses your neck. And finally, when the press of his hips become too much, the draw of his fingers sending you over the edge, you find yourself coming undone alongside him. [[Next.|chp5_71_irus_fade1]]

The kiss grows deeper, sweeter, and more heated. He presses the front of your shirt open and nips at your collarbone before kissing down your neck, sucking at the skin where your pulse pounds. You gasp and arch into his touch, your hands tangling themselves in his hair. He smiles against your skin when you moan in response. "I want to see all of you," he murmurs. You shiver at the rasp in his voice, the hunger in the way that he touches your skin and when he tugs at your tunic, loosening the fabric from your shoulders, you... <<set $chp_71_irus_sex1 to 0>> [[...flush in embarrassment, trying to cover your exposed skin.|chp5_71_irus_sex2][$chp_71_irus_sex1 +=1]] [[...begin to help Prince Irus as you undress.|chp5_71_irus_sex2][$chp_71_irus_sex1 +=2]] [[...undress Prince Irus in return.|chp5_71_irus_sex2][$chp_71_irus_sex1 +=3]]

It feels like hours since you and Prince Irus made love, but you know that it cannot have been more than a few minutes. You are pressed against him, now covered by the blanket of his bed, his fingers tracing lazy circles against your back. "Did you enjoy it?" he asks, after a moment. <<set $chp5_71_irus_fade1 to 0>> [[You hum in response, too tired and content to speak.|chp5_71_irus_fade2][$chp5_71_irus_fade1 +=1]] [["It was... my first time," you admit, suddenly shy.|chp5_71_irus_fade2][$chp5_71_irus_fade1 +=2]] [["Very much," you respond, kissing his collarbone.|chp5_71_irus_fade2][$chp5_71_irus_fade1 +=3]]

<<if $chp5_71_irus_fade1 is 1>> You hum in response, too tired and content to speak. His breath tickles your ear as he chuckles softly at your lack of response, pressing a kiss to your temple. You can feel his smile against your skin, and it makes you laugh sleepily in return. "That's quite an answer." He sounds amused again, his hands moving to cup your face tenderly. Your eyes meet his in the dimness of the room and you find a surge of warmth and affection in his gaze. It leaves you breathless and you find that you cannot tear your eyes away from him. Prince Irus smiles, his expression soft as his presses his mouth against yours in a gentle kiss. When he withdraws, he murmurs, "I have never felt like this for anyone before." <<elseif $chp5_71_irus_fade1 is 2>> "It was... my first time," you admit, suddenly shy. The words leave you in a single breath, nervousness suddenly twisting in your stomach as you stare at Prince Irus. His eyes widen slightly at your confession and you fear that it was the wrong thing to say. But then, his hands slide up from your back to cup your cheeks, brushing against the heat gathering there with his thumbs as he leans down for a kiss. "I am honoured to have been your first, Beloved," he breathes. "You were magnificent." You flush under his gaze and let out a sharp breath when his lips find the sensitive skin beneath your ear. A shudder runs down your spine and you draw closer, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. When Prince Irus speaks again, it is soft, barely a murmur. "I have never felt this strongly about anyone before," he breathes. <<elseif $chp5_71_irus_fade1 is 3>> "Very much," you respond, kissing his collarbone. He shivers against your lips and gazes at you with wonder. "You are magnificent, Beloved." Your pulse quickens at his words, the longing in his eyes enough to draw you to his chest. Slowly, your mouths meet in a languid kiss, enjoying this moment as your tongues snake against each other. You pull away first, gasping for air and as you peer at Prince Irus' face, you feel a surge of warmth in your chest. A soft smile tugs at the corner of his lips, his knuckles grazing your face. You gaze into the blue of his irises, enjoying the flushed heat of his skin against yours. Prince Irus presses a soft kiss against your forehead, settling back against the pillows. "I have never felt this way about anyone before," he murmurs. <</if>> As you drink in his features, taking in his gaze, you realise that... <<set $chp5_71irusRom to 0>> [[...you are falling in love with him.|chp5_71_irusRom1][$chp5_71irusRom +=1, $irusRom +=10]] [[...you have never felt this way before either.|chp5_71_irusRom1][$chp5_71irusRom +=2, $irusRom +=5]]

<<if $chp_71_irus_sex1 is 1>> You instantly curl into yourself when Prince Irus tugs your tunic free. A shiver runs along the exposed skin of your arms, suddenly bare. Prince Irus stares at your flushed face, his eyes softening as he leans closer, drawing your arms away from your form. "Do not hide from me," he murmurs, kissing your neck. "I want to see all of you, Beloved." His breath fans across your bare shoulder blades and goose pimples erupt on your bare skin when his warm lips brush against them, sending a spark of pleasure through your veins. Your breath hitches, and do not protest as he pulls down your trousers away, leaving you in nothing but your underclothes. Drawing away, Prince Irus pulls away at his own tunic, the material crumpling on the floor beside him. You cannot move or breathe as you take in the expanse of his chest and the dark trail of hair that dips beneath the waistline of his trousers. You swallow thickly as he removes his trouser, his arousal evident and drawing a flush to your cheeks. <<elseif $chp_71_irus_sex1 is 2>> Your fingers are deft alongside Prince Irus' as you begin to unlace the strings that hold your clothes in place. Gently, slowly, Prince Irus peels away the shirt of your tunic, casting it to the floor. You shiver against the cold, goose pimples slipping over your arms as Prince Irus turns his attention to the fabric of your trousers. His breath fans against your bare skin, his lips settling between your neck and shoulder and then, darting to kiss along your collarbone. As you squirm against his touch, his fingers make quick work of tugging and pulling at your trousers and then, you are kicking it away so that it joins your tunic against the floor. Prince Irus draws back, drinking in your form. You are clad in nothing but your underclothes and a swell of desire rushes through you. "You are magnificent," he breathes. And then, he is stripping away his own tunic and trousers. There is an urgency in the way he pulls at the material as if it offends him. You watch as the broad expanse of his chest is revealed, soft tufts of hair scattered across the top of his chest and then lower, a dark line leading beneath the waistline of his trousers. His arousal is evident and the look he casts you is enough to cause a stab of desire in your stomach. <<elseif $chp_71_irus_sex1 is 3>> A low whimper in the back of Prince Irus' throat rumbles in his chest as you begin to peel at the tunic that covers his chest. Slowly, you ease the material away from him, revealing the golden-kissed skin of his broad chest. You pepper kisses along his collarbone, enjoying the sharp breaths that escape his lips at the contact. There is a light dusting of hair against his chest, but all thoughts of him are replaced by a sudden desire as Prince Irus tugs your trousers down. You let out a breath, feeling a cool breeze against your exposed skin and when you return your attention to Prince Irus, you find that he is already taking in your form. "Beautiful," he breathes. And then, he is stripping his own trousers off, the thin line of hair that dips below his naval leading towards the evidence of his arousal. When your eyes meet, you only see desire in his blue eyes, a hunger that leaves you yearning and breathless for his touch. <</if>> Slowly, Prince Irus begins to kiss along your neck, his tongue swiping at your skin that which you trembling and gasping for breath. You let your fingers trail through the soft waves of the prince’s hair, tugging on the strands as you let your back arch slightly in pleasure. His mouth lowers and he tugs away the strip of cloth that hides your... [[...bare chest.|chp5_71_irus_sex3][$chest to true]] [[...soft breasts.|chp5_71_irus_sex3][$breast to true]]

<<if $breast is true>> You arch, your breath quickening as his fingers press against the swell of your breasts. His fingers tug at the pert buds of arousal that glimmers in the darkness and you shiver against the brush of his lips as they move against your skin. A soft mewling sound escapes you as Prince Irus' free hand slowly slips between your thighs, his fingers gently rubbing along your... <<elseif $chest is true>> You gasp as Prince Irus' fingers dance across your chest, his touch trailing along your collarbone and then, replaced by his lips as he lowers his mouth further. Your back arches against the heat and wetness of his tongue when he begins to pepper your chest with kisses. A soft mewling sound escapes you as Prince Irus' free hand slowly slips between your thighs, his fingers gently rubbing along your... <</if>> [[...throbbing arousal.|chp5_71_irus_sex4][$length to true]] [[...slick folds.|chp5_71_irus_sex4][$folds to true]]

<<if $folds is true>> His fingers find your sensitive flesh, his fingers deft in the way that they brush against your slickness. You jump, a sudden heat rushing to your face as he brushes against the soft skin of your inner thigh. He traces over your hip, teasing you with his fingertips, before slipping into your heat. You gasp against his touch, shuddering when he curls his fingers into your soft skin, eliciting a low sound from your parted mouth. Prince Irus leans forward, his lips capturing yours and he drinks in your voice, tasting the pleasure of your sounds as you begin to tremble against his fingers. <<elseif $length is true>> His fingers find the hardness of your length, his touch warm and his fingers tight as they grip around your sensitive skin. A dizziness swarms your mind, swallowing every thought until all you can do is arch against the tug and pull of his fingers along your hardening arousal. A soft groan escapes your mouth, pleasure swirling in the pit of your stomach and Prince Irus leans forward, capturing your mouth in his. He drinks your voice, the grunts that leaves your lips at every stroke of his long fingers until you are trembling all over. <</if>> "Tell me what you want," he breathes. "I will give you anything that you desire." <<set $chp5_71_irus_sex4 to 0>><<set $virgin to false>> [["I..." you mumble, suddenly flushing. "I have never done this before."|chp5_71_irus_sex_virgin][$virgin to true]] [["I want to feel you inside me," you breathe.|chp5_71_irusA][$chp5_71_irus_sex4 +=1]] [["I want to taste you," you moan.|chp5_71_irusA][$chp5_71_irus_sex4 +=2]] [["I want you to use your mouth on me," you gasp.|chp5_71_irusA][$chp5_71_irus_sex4 +=3]] <<if $length is true>> [["I want to feel you around me," you groan.|chp5_71_irusA][$chp5_71_irus_sex4 +=4]]<</if>>

"I..." you mumble, suddenly flushing. "I have never done this before." Prince Irus' blue eyes widen slightly at your words and for a moment, you find that you cannot meet his gaze. He reaches out, his fingers are gentle as they draw your chin so that your eyes meet his once more. There is a gentleness in the way that he looks at you and his lips pull into a soft smile. "There is no need to be embarrassed," he murmurs, his voice husky. "I will cherish this moment with you." He kisses the side of your forehead, allowing his fingers to dance along the soft skin of your<<if $breast is true>> breasts<<elseif $chest is true>> chest.<</if>> Slowly, he eases you against the bed, his touch delicate as he draws out sharp gasps from your lips and presses hungry kisses along your neck. "I will cherish this moment," he breathes. He presses another kiss against your throat. "I will cherish you." [[Next.|chp5_71_irusA][$chp5_71_irus_sex4 +=1]]

<<if $chp5_71_irus_sex4 is 1>> Prince Irus presses against you, his skin hot against yours and you shiver. His kisses are devouring, a consuming thing that leaves you panting and whimpering against his lips. Your fingers press against his chest and you feel him nipping at the shell of your ear, eliciting a sharp gasp from your lips. "Blood and tears," he groans. "You are so warm." Your breathing hitches as his lips trail down your neck, tasting your skin before his tongue slips over your nipple. A shiver darts down your spine and you arch, desperate to feel more. Grinning, Prince Irus lets his fingers travel lower, stroking the innards of your thighs before slipping <<if $folds is true>>into your folds.<<elseif $length is true>>over your hardness.<</if>> His strokes are languid, a certain thing that draws out unbidden moans from your lips and you can only hope that this feeling never ends. With his free hand, Prince Irus reaches between his thighs, tugging at his arousal until it is pulsing against your stomach and you know that neither of you can hold back. Gently, Prince Irus works his fingers against your entrance, parting them with one digit and then, another. You gasp, your muscles clenching around him and when he withdraws his touch, you have to force down the urge to pull him back. <<elseif $chp5_71_irus_sex4 is 2>> His eyes darken in desire and without warning, he presses his mouth against yours. A shudder runs through you, heat pooling between your thighs as he explores your mouth with his tongue. Your fingers curl into his hair, tightening as he begins to kiss your jaw and then, your collarbone before he pulls away. Shifting against the narrow bed, you find yourself straddling Prince Irus, his fingers gripping your hips as he gazes up at you with arousal heavy in his eyes. His chest rises and falls with his ragged breaths and you take a moment to drink in his handsomeness, enjoying the heat of his skin beneath your touch. "Take your fill," he groans. The yearning in his voice is enough to make you shudder and slowly, you work your way down his chest, tasting and teasing as your lips pepper soft kisses along his skin. Prince Irus groans, his fingers grasping at your neck, his fingers tightening around your form as your lips lower to his naval and then, along his hipbone. He shudders beneath you and you suck on his skin gently, eliciting another groan from him. He moves against you, gripping you closer while his breath grows erratic and shallow. His hand clutches at your head as you continue your ministrations, licking your way further down until your breath brushes his throbbing length. <<elseif $chp5_71_irus_sex4 is 3>> Prince Irus' breathing comes out sharp and then he is grinning at you before he leans down to swallow your lips. Gently, his tongue presses against your mouth, slipping between your parted lips as he begins to kiss you in earnest. Slowly, teasingly, he begins to move lower, his tongue swiping against your nipple before moving lower. You moan under his lips, feeling his fingers dancing along your thighs before they find your<<if $folds is true>> folds.<<elseif $length is true>> hardness.<</if>> Your back arches as desire begins to form in your stomach, your fingers gripping Prince Irus' hair as he descends towards your inner thighs. His lips are slow and despite your ragged breathing and yearning, Prince Irus does not kiss you where you want it the most. He kisses your thighs, then your hip before settling just to the side of where you crave his mouth. When he feels your nails begin to dig into his scalp, he stops kissing you and pulls away slightly so that you can see the satisfied smirk upon his face. "I will drink from you until you are crying out my name," he murmurs. <<elseif $chp5_71_irus_sex4 is 4>> You reach out, grabbing him. His warm hands cup your face. They run over the skin of your cheekbones and the curve of your jaw. It is all you can do not to whimper in pleasure. He strokes the skin at the nape of your neck. The stubble on his cheeks scratches across the back of your hand as you press it into his shoulder, drawing him into a hungry kiss. The kiss is a slow thing, your lips parting under his tongue and your body trembling when his fingers grasp at your length. Slowly, steadily, you begin to draw him closer, feeling his arousal on your thigh and tasting the hunger on his tongue. He moves between your legs, pressing his hips against you. Your head falls to the side as he kisses down your throat to the hollow beneath your chin. You gasp for breath as his mouth grazes the shell of your ear before kissing along its sensitive edge and up. and when he speaks, his voice is ragged. "You can have me," he groans. "I am yours." Prince Irus shifts so that his entrance brushes against your length, his own arousal throbbing against his stomach as he strokes himself. You can do nothing but stare at him, your desire like liquid fire as you pull his mouth to yours. He kisses you like a man starved of air and when your fingers curl around his length, joining his palm as he strokes the sensitive flesh there, you are rewarded with a groan. <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_71_irusB]]

<<if $chp5_71_irus_sex4 is 1>> His fingers rub along his length and you watch him, flushed at the sight. Catching your eyes on him, Prince Irus grins, leaning down until there is no space between your bodies. Gently, he begins to ease himself into you, your lips parting as a breath escapes your throat. <<if $virgin is true>> The feeling of his length pushing against your<<if $folds is true>> slickness<<elseif $length is true>> entrance<</if>> is like nothing you have ever felt before. He is large and thick, the heat of his flesh enough to make your head spin.<<else>>You gasp at the size of him as he begins to press into you, parting<<if $folds is true>> the slickness of your folds<<elseif $length is true>> your entrance with his length<</if>><</if>>. Prince Irus groans, pushing himself further until your hips press together and you can no longer breathe from the fullness of him. His lips begin to press along your face, kissing your forehead and your closed eyes as he holds himself over you. For a moment, neither of you moves, your muscles growing accustomed to the feel of him inside you. But then suddenly he is thrusting deep inside you, filling you with his heat, his presence, and your body reacts as he continues in an unrelenting rhythm, arching and trembling as your skin grows hot. He lifts your thigh, drawing it around his hip as he continues to push into you, his breaths coming out in ragged pants as he thrusts. "Blood and tears, $name," he groans, your name like a plea. "You are so tight." Sweat coats your skin but you do not care, not when your head swims with arousal or when your stomach clenches when his thrusts find a particularly sensitive spot inside you. Your voice comes out, a strained whimper that is quickly swallowed by Prince Irus' mouth and then, the mounting pleasure that had been pressing into you, swallows you whole until you are crying out his name. Prince Irus continues to thrust, even after your head grows heavy, his movements shaky and hard until he follows after you, his voice low in your ear as he finds his pleasure in your flesh. <<elseif $chp5_71_irus_sex4 is 2>> You lick at it softly, relishing the taste of salty sweat that coats the tip of him before you press your mouth up over the head, your tongue darting out to lap greedily at the glistening bead leaking from his member. Irus bucks under you, his hips jerking in time with your every movement. Gently, you shift so that your free hand slips between your own thighs, stroking your<<if $folds is true>> slick heat<<elseif $length is true>> hardening arousal<</if>> as you continue to lick along Prince Irus' length. With a few more strokes, you come across a spot that you're certain he likes and you swipe at it gently, drawing him into your mouth, swirling your tongue as you continue to rub yourself against him. Your body heats, pulsing as Prince Irus' hand clenches and unclenches against your shoulders. "$name," he groans, desperation in his voice. "I cannot take much more." You can feel his hardness twitch against your tongue and you lean closer, sucking harder on his shaft. His breathing quickens, his fingers tightening around you. Your own hand, nestled between your thighs only serves to send heat through your body and you take Prince Irus into your mouth, feeling him tense before he releases into your mouth with a low groan. He is salty in your mouth and when you can drink no more, you pull away, your lips glistening with his release. With Prince Irus panting, your fingers curl<<if $folds is true>> into your folds, rubbing and pushing until you are shuddering with your own release.<<elseif $length is true>> around your arousal, pulling and jerking until you cry out as your own release stains your hand.<</if>> <<elseif $chp5_71_irus_sex4 is 3>> Heat rushes to your face as Prince Irus descends between your thighs, his lips soft against the flesh of your<<if $folds is true>> folds<<elseif $length is true>> length.<</if>> He sucks and kisses along your skin, drawing whimpers from your lips as your fingers curl in the strands of his hair. <<if $folds is true>> You can barely breathe, not when his fingers join his tongue as he slips them between your slick heat. Your hips buck, your back arching against his mouth as he continues to kiss along your folds. <<elseif $length is true>> You can barely breathe, not when his fingers join his tongue as he kisses along your length, swallowing you between his parted lips. Your hips buck, your back arching against his mouth as he continues to lick along the flesh of your arousal.<</if>> "Please," you whimper, aching for more. He chuckles, the vibrations of the sound running through the sensitive flesh between your legs and you can only writhe in response. There is little to be said, not when he begins to drink from you, sucking and tasting until you are twisting against him in desire. It happens all at once, your head falling back as your body presses up to meet the stroke of his tongue. Your vision grows white, spots dancing behind your eyes as you come undone against Prince Irus. He draws away, kissing your thighs before sitting back to stroke his length, his eyes unwavering as he watches you struggle to find your breath. You watch him, dazed and trembling as his fingers stroke him until he is jerking, spilling against the palm of his hand. <<elseif $chp5_71_irus_sex4 is 4>> It takes all of your restraint not to thrust up into him then. Slowly, you begin to kiss along his throat, enjoying the way he tastes against your lips as you draw him closer, your thumb pressing into his entrance. Prince Irus groans against your touch, shuddering and squeezing around your thumb as you thrust slowly. Slowly, you withdraw your thumb, feeling Prince Irus hardening against your hip as he groans against you ear. He kisses your face, stealing your mouth in a devouring thing of tongues and teeth. Your hands grip his head in an attempt to keep him close, even as you slide one between your thighs, stroking yourself slowly. He pulls away, breathing heavily, licking at your lips in what you know is a show of affection, his eyes gleaming in their dazed gaze. "I need you," he groans, rubbing himself against your hardness. You can see his erection from here, thick and pulsating, and you stroke it slowly, teasing the crown with your fingers. His hips jerk in anticipation, and you push yourself into him, moaning softly as you feel his muscles clench around your hardness. Pulling back slightly to meet his hungry expression, you press forward again, letting him guide your hips, drawing you into him. The motion makes both of you whimper, your arousal rubbing lightly against his sensitive flesh. Gently, you begin to thrust in earnest, your hips pressing into each other as your breaths become pants. Prince Irus wraps himself around you tightly, almost crushing you in his arms. He holds himself above you, his chest heaving as he pants. His lips move along your jawline in slow movements as he watches you, taking pleasure in the fact that you want him as much as he wants you, even as you writhe beneath him. The pleasure mounts until you are burying yourself deeply into Prince Irus, his name escaping your lips as the fervent heat that consumes you spills past your thighs and into his clenching muscles. You groan, whimpering as you struggle to catch your breath, watching as Prince Irus tugs at his length until he too in moaning in pleasure, spilling into his hand. <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_71_irusC]]

Later, much later when you are both cleaned and no longer covered in the remnants of your lovemaking, you find yourself draped against Prince Irus' arm. He holds you close, kissing your forehead and lazily tracing circles against your back. You are content, enjoying his warmth and the way he feels nestled against you. He tilts your face, so that your eyes meet his in the darkness. The oil lamp had burnt out a while ago, leaving you in the shadows of the night, as though there is only the two of you in the world. "I enjoyed tonight greatly," Prince Irus murmurs, kissing your brow. "You... What I feel for you is something I have never felt before." As you drink in his features, taking in his gaze, you realise that... <<set $chp5_71irusRom to 0>> [[...you are falling in love with him.|chp5_71_irusRom1][$chp5_71irusRom +=1, $irusRom +=10]] [[...you have never felt this way before either.|chp5_71_irusRom1][$chp5_71irusRom +=2, $irusRom +=5]]

<<if $chp5_71b is 1>> "It was surprising," you answer. You offer her a small smile. "But thank you for sympathising." She offers you a soft smile in return. "Of course. I know what it is like to have a troubling relationship with a mother." Her tone is wry and you note the way her lips pull into a frown. Although you have not spent enough time in the presence of Sovereign Amera, you have seen the way she treats Queen Elora. Perhaps it is the thought of her own mother that seems to trouble Queen Elora and you feel a pang of sorrow for her. "It does not seem to get any easier," you respond. "No matter how much time has passed." Queen Elora glances at you, the tension in her expression easing as she regards you. "You are right, it does not." She bumps your shoulder, grinning. "But at least we are not alone in our woes." <<elseif $chp5_71b is 2>> "I never thought that I would see her again," you murmur. "It is all so confusing." Your voice is hollow, your chest tightening as you struggle to comprehend everything that has happened tonight. Queen Elora grips your wrist, her warm fingers drawing your attention to where she sits. Her eyebrows are furrowed, her lips downturned as if uncertain how to respond. "$name," she murmurs. "What you experienced would be a shocking thing for anyone. It is only natural for you to feel confused." You let out a deep breath, your shoulders sagging slightly. "You are right." Queen Elora smiles, her gaze soft as she withdraws her hand from your wrist. There is a lightness in being with her, an ease that comes naturally when you speak of your family. "I would not lie to you," she answers. "Besides, there is nothing better than spending time with a friend and gossiping about your mothers." <<elseif $chp5_71b is 3>> "Do not pretend to care," you huff. "You would never understand what it's like." Your voice is laced with bitterness, the anger and frustration of everything that has happened, coming out in a wave of rage. Queen Elora frowns, her face twisting into surprise and then, frustration as she looks at you. For a moment, neither of you speak and you turn away, your breathing coming in sharp gasps. "You are right," she replies, her voice hard. "I would never understand what it is like, but do not insult me by thinking that I did not care." You turn to her, an incredulous look on your face. "You mean to say that you actually care about me?" <<if $eloraRel gte 60>>Her eyes widen in surprise. "Of course, $name. I consider you a friend, regardless of what you might think."<<else>>Her lips purse and she turns away, unable to respond to your question. You scoff, frowning at her deceit.<</if>> <<elseif $chp5_71b is 4>> "Thank you," you breathe, flushing from her concern. The breathlessness of your voice comes out softly, brushing the air between you. Queen Elora smiles, her eyes dragging over your face before she leans closer, brushing the pads of her fingers along your cheek. Heat blossoms against your skin from her touch and you fear that she will hear your racing heartbeat beneath your chest. "I will always worry about you, $name," she murmurs. "Do not ever doubt that." A shiver runs down your spine and you avert your eyes, unable to maintain her gaze. You wonder if she knows how much she affects you. It is in the way that your skin burns and the way that your stomach twists, not from fear, but from //yearning//. "You are always so kind to me," you respond. She draws closer, her side pressing into you as her fingers trail over your arm. A smile pulls at her lips and you can smell the sweetness of her perfumed hair. "It is not so much kindness as it is selfishness," she whispers, her lips brushing the shell of your ear. "I enjoy watching your flustered expressions greatly, $name." You jerk back, hot and breathing fast as Queen Elora chuckles in response. <<elseif $chp5_71b is 5>> "You do not need to look so sad for me," you tease. "After all, how could I possibly be upset when I am seated next to you?" Queen Elora's eyebrows raise against her forehead as if stunned by your words. A moment passes before she tips her head back and laughs, the sound like the melody of a bird in flight. It is an airy sound and you find yourself enjoying the way she looks under the glimmer of the nearby firelight. When her laughter softens into a giggle, eventually becoming a wide smile on her lips, you find that she is closer to you than before. Her fingers skim across yours, the touch of her warmth enough to send heat through your arm. "You amuse me, $name," she responds. "Many have fawned over me and many have been spurned." "Oh?" you respond, smirking. "And what does that mean for me?" She gazes at you, her dark eyes raking over your face before she leans against the wide bark of the tree. "It means that you will have to do better than offer me flowery prose if you expect anything more." <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_71b2]]

As you settle against the tree, the bark and worls pressing against your back, you gaze at Queen Elora. You have known her almost as long as you have known Prince Irus and yet, it feels as if you have known each other for years. She gazes at you, her eyes taking in your thoughtful expression before she speaks. "Have you spoken to your mother?" she asks. You make a face. "I did, before coming to you." Queen Elora sits up, her eyes on you. "And?" <<set $chp5_71b2 to 0>> [["And it was not something I enjoyed," you mutter, remembering your mother's betrayal.|chp5_71b3][$chp5_71b2 +=1]] [["She has another family here," you breathe. "I cannot help but wonder if she was ever planning on coming back for me."|chp5_71b3][$chp5_71b2 +=2]] [["It was good to see her again," you answer. "I am hopeful that we can salvage our relationship."|chp5_71b3][$chp5_71b2 +=3]]

<<if $chp5_71b2 is 1>> "And it was not something I enjoyed," you mutter, remembering your mother's betrayal. Your lips twist as you remember the discovery of your mother's new life and her new child. It is clear that she had enough time to form a family for herself in Ishari. Bitter resentment fills you, knowing that she chose a new family - leaving you behind in Salt Bay. Queen Elora glances away, her expression softening. "I see." "She has another child," you explain. "And a husband, I suppose. She did not even know that my father was dead until I told her." <<elseif $chp5_71b2 is 2>> "She has another family here," you breathe. "I cannot help but wonder if she was ever planning on coming back for me." Your chest squeezes painfully and you swallow a hard lump, trembling as the thoughts fill your mind. When Mama left you, you did not know what to think. Finding her again has only made you question everything you know about her. In your time apart, you dealt with the isolation of being in Salt Bay and yet she had managed to start a new family. "I did not know," Queen Elora breathes, reaching out and gripping your hand. "Have you met them?" "Only her daughter," you respond. "It has been a lot." <<elseif $chp5_71b2 is 3>> "It was good to see her again," you answer. "I am hopeful that we can salvage our relationship." There is a hopefulness in your tone that makes you smile slightly. You are finally reunited with your mother again and while there you have discovered her new family and your new half-sister, you cannot bring yourself to turn your back on her. "That is good," Queen Elora replies, offering you a smile. "I am happy for you." You nod in response, thinking about your relationship with Mama. She has given you time to think about your relationship, but you already know what you want. You want her back in your life, even if it means that you will be gaining an extended family from it. <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_71b4]]

There is a lull in the conversation as you gaze at the courtyard once more. Queen Elora lets out a breath, drawing your attention towards her. She gazes at you softly, the gentleness in her eyes enough to stop the thoughts of your mother. "I am glad that you returned safely," she murmurs, gazing at you. "It was difficult not knowing what would happen." <<set $chp5_71b4 to 0>> [["I am glad that I returned safely too," you breathe, touched by her sincerity.|chp5_71b5][$chp5_71b4 +=1, $eloraRel +=5]] [[You shrug, indifferent to her words.|chp5_71b5][$chp5_71b4 +=2]] [[♡"Thank you," you respond, threading your fingers together.|chp5_71b5][$chp5_71b4 +=3, $eloraRel +=5, $eloraRom +=5]] <<if $irus_lock is false and $eloraRom gte 20>> [[♡You stare at her mouth, flushing at the closeness of her lips.|chp5_71b5][$chp5_71b4 +=4, $eloraRel +=5, $eloraRom +=5, $shy_elora +=5]] [[♡You kiss her hungrily, desperate for her touch.|chp5_71b5][$chp5_71b4 +=5, $eloraRel +=5, $eloraRom +=5, $bold_elora +=5]]<</if>>

<<if $chp5_71b4 is 1>> "I am glad that I returned safely too," you breathe, touched by her sincerity. Queen Elora gazes at you, her eyes warming at your response. She smiles at you kindly, the way you would imagine friends smiling at each other and it takes you a moment to realise that in the time that you have known her, you can no longer call her a stranger. "You are a part of this as much as Iri," Queen Elora responds. "I know that you did not have to do this, but I am grateful that you did. Without you, we might never have managed to win the trust of the Ishari people." There is so much sincerity in her voice that your breath catches in the back of your throat and you can only manage a smile in response. She chuckles, amused by your silence and leans against the tree. You stare into her eyes, searching for a hint of mischief or hidden meaning behind them. When you find nothing but warmth, you relax somewhat. Your smile grows as she stares back at you with amusement and fondness, and you wonder when the last time someone looked at you like that was. <<elseif $chp5_71b4 is 2>> You shrug, indifferent to her words. Queen Elora glances at you, her expression falling slightly when you do not speak. A breath leaves you and you lean against the tree, casting your gaze at the fire that reaches to the skies, billowing smoke filling the air. The silence stretches between you and it seems to make Queen Elora uncomfortable because she turns towards you, her eyes searching your features. "We truly would not have been able to accomplish this much without your help," she says. "It is something that needed to be done," you respond, catching her gaze. "There is no need to thank me for that." Your dismissive tone causes Queen Elora to sigh, her shoulders sagging as she looks away from you. <<elseif $chp5_71b4 is 3>> "Thank you," you respond, threading your fingers together. A breath escapes Queen Elora when she gazes at your interlocked fingers. For a moment, neither of you speak, the quiet between you giving you time to examine her features. Her dark hair glimmers against the fire, her lips soft and smiling as she runs the pad of her finger over your knuckles. It is only when she looks at you again that you realise how close she sits beside you. Your chest tightens at the smell of her sweet perfume and the way that her fingers trace lazy patterns against your hand. Heat, hotter than flames, spread through your fingers until it becomes hard to breathe. "You are remarkable, $name" Queen Elora murmurs, her breath fanning your face. Her words only serve to ignite the flames within you, until you are flushed and gripping her hand tightly in yours. When she draws closer, resting her head against your shoulder, you find yourself relaxing against her touch, enjoying the way her hair tickles the side of your face. "It is you that is remarkable," you breathe. Queen Elora laughs, the sound soft. "Then let us agree to both be remarkable together." <<elseif $chp5_71b4 is 4>> You stare at her mouth, flushing at the closeness of her lips. Your skin tingles, heat flushing against your cheeks as you stare at her. For a moment, Queen Elora simply takes in your appearance, her eyes raking over your features as if committing them to memory. Under her gaze, you suddenly feel exposed as if all your emotions can be seen in your eyes. You avert your gaze, your breath escaping you in a quick gasp. Queen Elora draws closer, her fingers on your face before she tilts your chin so that you can look at nothing but her. "Do not turn away," she breathes. "Let me see you." Your heartbeat thrums loudly, the sound a heavy drumbeat in your ears. You cannot think or speak for fear of what might come out of your lips. Queen Elora gazes at you, her eyes settling on your lips before she presses closer, her heat brushing against you. You shiver in delight, the hairs on the back of your skin raising. Slowly, as if taking her time, she brings her mouth to yours. She is gentle in her kiss, tasting your lips and then, kissing along your neck at the exposed skin of your throat. Your breath hitches when you feel the slightest graze of her teeth and she chuckles softly, before capturing your mouth in hers. The warmth between you both sears into your skin, and you wonder how much further it can go before something happens - some sort of action or revelation. Desire pools through you like liquid fire, pressing between your chest and stomach. Eventually, she draws back, her lips wet and her eyes heavy. "I could kiss you for all eternity if you let me." <<elseif $chp5_71b4 is 5>> You kiss her hungrily, desperate for her touch. A soft sound escapes her mouth and then, her fingers are gripping the back of your neck as she draws you closer. You shiver against her, tasting her lips and drinking in her tongue as you press against her form. She yields easily against your touch, sighing when you trail your lips over the soft skin beneath her ear to her flushed throat. Her hands rest on your shoulders, fingers tracing the ridges and curves before they slip into the hem of your shirt. Your chest heaves with desire, your body burning with it. Your head falls forward, nuzzling her skin. She inhales sharply when your teeth bite gently along the sensitive spot on her collarbone, sucking softly. Her fingers grip tighter onto your shoulders and her head tilts slightly away from you, giving you full access to her neck. Your lips part and you suck harder, the sound of her gasps reaching your ears through the haze of your desire. When you pull away, your lips glistening, you take in her appearance. She is flushed, her breathing as ragged as your as she grips you. Her dark eyes are heavy with want and you tremble as her fingers run across your face. "$name," she breathes, tugging you closer. You shudder against the graze of her lips on your cheek, your fingers tightening around her waist. She smiles softly, her eyes alight with yearning and something far deeper. "I am grateful to have met you," she breathes. <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_71b6]]

Someone laughs on the other side of the courtyard, but the sound is enough to draw your attention towards it and away from Queen Elora. She sighs, glancing at the sky before gazing at you. "It has been a long day," she murmurs. "For you more than any of us. It would be best if we retired for the night." You nod in response, her words bringing back the heaviness in your limbs and the dull throb behind your eyes. Standing, you stretch before catching Queen Elora's gaze. She smiles at you, before heading towards the temple. As you watch her walk away, you take a final look of the courtyard knowing that by tomorrow, the celebrations will give way to talks of an alliance. It is with that thought that you follow Queen Elora into the temple, desperate for sleep. [[Next.|chp5_end]]

<<if $chp5_71c is 1>> "I was only doing what needed to be done," you answer, smiling slightly. Sir Oren returns your smile, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he regards you. You cannot help but gaze at him for a moment longer, noting the kindness in his eyes and the gentle expression on his face. "You are too humble," Sir Oren answers. "You should be proud, $name. Many of the prisoners who were freed did so with your aid." "I suppose," you mumble, glancing away. For a while, Sir Oren does not speak and you stand beside him, enjoying the quiet peace that comes from being around him. There is nothing demanding in the way he talks to you, a solidness that hods true even in times of great turmoil and you have come to appreciate it. "You have done a good thing tonight," Sir Oren murmurs. "No matter what happens, you should remember your part in helping the prisoners." "Thank you," you breathe. <<elseif $chp5_71c is 2>> "I am glad to have helped them," you murmur. It is true, you realise as you gaze at those who were freed from the prison. How long must they have endured the horrors of the Blood Guard, you wonder? You are grateful that you had played a role in freeing them, knowing that they would certainly not lasted another week in their cells. "You are kind $gender," Sir Oren responds, casting you a smile. Your breathing hitches at the sincerity of his words and a swell of warmth fills you. It is strange being praised so openly for something that would have been done, even without your aid. Yet, even as you think this, you find yourself smiling in response. Sir Oren's smile widens at your expression and he nudges your shoulder gently. There is a quiet solidness in the way that he gazes at you, a look of awe at what you have accomplished and it is enough to make your chest squeeze. "I did what anyone would have done," you respond, glancing at the courtyard once more. "The prisoners might see it differently," Sir Oren replies. "You helped many tonight, $name and I do not believe it will be something easily forgotten." <<elseif $chp5_71c is 3>> "Of course I am proud of what I have done," you snap. "It is more than you ever have." Your words come out sharp, a bitter sound that makes Sir Oren's eyes widen in response. He gazes at you, a frown tugging at his mouth before he turns away. Though he has never truly lost his temper with you, you can tell by the way his hands curl into fists at his side that he struggling to maintain his composure. "You are angry," Sir Oren murmurs. "Yet, you should not be. You have accomplished a great thing tonight." "I do not need you to tell me that," you huff. "I know what I have done and I do not seek your praise for it." Sir Oren's mouth twists until he is looking away from you, letting the silence between you stretch until there is a charged tension in the air. You refuse to break the quiet, letting your eyes shift away from him as you stare out at the courtyard again. <<elseif $chp5_71c is 4>> "I..." you mumble, your words dying on your tongue under his gaze. Blood rushes past your ears and you find your mouth going dry from the way that he looks at you. You do not know what to say or how to speak, for fear that your voice will betray your emotions. He is so close to you that if you simply reached out, you would be able to grasp him and draw him into your hold. Heat spreads over your face and you quickly avert your gaze from Sir Oren's hazel eyes, afraid that he will be able to tell what you are thinking simply from looking at you. "There is nothing to be shy about," Sir Oren breathes. He reaches out, flushing when your eyes meet his. "I think you a truly wonderful." Your breathing becomes erratic and your stomach tumbles as you stare at him. Sir Oren smiles softly, the affection in his expression enough to cause your heartbeat to thud louder until you are certain that he too can hear it under your chest. "It was nothing," you stammer, warming as his fingers find yours. "You have done something good for the people who were imprisoned," he breathes, smiling. "You deserve all the praise that I can give." <<elseif $chp5_71c is 5>> "Thank you, Captain," you tease, grinning at his flushing cheeks. His face only warms further under your stare and you cannot help the bark of laughter that slips past your lips. He glances away from you, as heat spreads to the tips of his ears and you reach out, brushing your fingers against the heat in his cheeks. Sir Oren shudders against your touch and your lips ease into a softer smile. Slowly, he lifts his fingers, reaching for your hand as he grips it in his hold. His thumb brushes over your knuckles and his touch is gentle, sand oothing. Your eyes meet his as he draws you closer with an almost gentle tug. "It is true, $name," he breathes. "You have done something that most would not have." You let out a breath, your eyes raking over his features. His hazel eyes are sincere and his expression reminds you of his kindness. A surge of warmth fills you under his gaze, heat and affection warring for your attention as you draw closer to Sir Oren. "Perhaps I only did it to enjoy your praise," you tease. Sir Oren smiles, his eyes lighting. "It is not praise if it is true, $name." <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_71c2]]

As you enjoy the quietness, you turn your attention to the children that had been crowded around Sir Oren before your arrival. They are young, perhaps younger than Rana and the thought makes your eyebrows furrow. Sir Oren notices your expression and casts you a questioning look. "Those children from before," you say. "They seemed to like you." Sir Oren smiles at you, a fond look in his eyes. "Many of them are orphans. When you were gone, I came to know them well." You nod, thinking about Rana again. <<set $chp5_71c2 to 0>> [["What is it like to have siblings?" you ask, glancing at Sir Oren.|chp5_71c3][$chp5_71c2 +=1]] [["Do you enjoy being an older brother?" you question.|chp5_71c3][$chp5_71c2 +=2]] [["I do not think I will do well with young children," you state.|chp5_71c3][$chp5_71c2 +=3]]

<<if $chp5_71c2 is 1>> "What is it like to have siblings?" you ask, glancing at Sir Oren. You have learnt that Sir Oren has younger siblings and now that you have discovered Rana, you are curious what it must be like to have someone else to share the same parent as you. Sir Oren glances at you, his smile softening. "It is enjoyable," he replies. "My sister and brother can be maddening at times, but they are also my closest friends." He speaks warmly, affection evident in his expression. You wonder what a relationship with Rana might have been like if you had known from the time of her birth. But you were never given that opportunity and you now, Mama expects you to rekindle your relationship and perhaps start one with her new family. <<elseif $chp5_71c2 is 2>> "Do you enjoy being an older brother?" you question. A wide smile graces Sir Oren's lips and he nods in response. "I do. When I was younger, I would always ask my Baba and Adda for siblings." He pauses, a soft look in his expression. You imagine that it must have been an entirely different experience, having siblings when you were already part of a happy family. It is unlike Rana, the girl that your mother introduced as her daughter that she had when you were still in Salt Bay. "And was it everything that you hoped for?" you ask. Sir Oren nods, grinning. "It felt good not to be alone anymore. My younger sister was my best friend and then, my brother came along too. We were always together when I was still on the farm." <<elseif $chp5_71c2 is 3>> "I do not think I will do well with young children," you state. During your years in Salt Bay, you were never around many young children. Ahlf forbade you from wandering too far and he seemed uninterested in starting a family of his own. It had been only you and him and for a long time, you wondered what it might have been like to have a sibling. Sir Oren smiles softly. "Children are not that much different from us. They feel pain, happiness and enjoy peace." "It that what your siblings were like?" you ask. He chuckles. "They were a handful but in the end, they were my closest friends. I think you will do well with younger children, $name. You simply need to give yourself the chance to try." <</if>> You return your attention to the children. They laugh, playing closer to the priestesses now. Sir Oren wears a warm smile as he regards them, his eyes glimmering with a gentle fondness. He must sense your inspection of him because he turns towards you. "I... I heard that you have a younger sister," he states. "It must have been a surprise to you." <<set $chp5_71c3 to 0>> [["It was," you murmur. "But I am glad to have a sister now."|chp5_71c4][$chp5_71c3 +=1]] [["I still do not know what to feel," you explain.|chp5_71c4][$chp5_71c3 +=2]] [["She is not my sister," you mutter, remembering your mother's betrayal.|chp5_71c4][$chp5_71c3 +=3]]

<<if $chp5_71c3 is 1>> "It was," you murmur. "But I am glad to have a sister now." There is a softness in your voice that surprises you and you find your lips pulling into a small smile. Sir Oren meets your eyes, his own lips pulling upwards. "That is a good way to think about it," he replies. "I know that it might be difficult for you, with everything that has happened, but your sister has done nothing wrong." You nod in response, grateful for Sir Oren's understanding. He is right. Rana has done nothing to deserve your ire and you will try your best to form a relationship with her regardless of what might happen between you and Mama. You have been starved of a family for too long to ignore the one you might have now. <<elseif $chp5_71c3 is 2>> "I still do not know what to feel," you explain. The emotions still tumble around you, pain and anger and then, longing for the mother you always wanted but never had. You know that Rana did nothing to earn your anger, yet every time that you look at her, you are reminded of the complex relationship you have with Mama. Sir Oren offers you a sorrowful look. "It is alright, $name. Sometimes these things take time. No one would fault you for wanting time to work through your thoughts." You smile, grateful for his understanding. Sir Oren is right. There is no need to rush into things and Mama has given you time to think about what you might want going forward. You only hope that you will know what to do when the time comes. <<elseif $chp5_71c3 is 3>> "She is not my sister," you mutter, remembering your mother's betrayal. Anger sears your words with a bitterness that does not go unnoticed by Sir Oren. His eyebrows furrow at you and you turn away, your fingers curling into your palms. Rana is only a reminder of what your mother did - of the life she chose over you. It is not an easy thing to understand or forgive. "$name," Sir Oren breathes. "That is... she is a child." You turn to look at him, glaring. "And what was I when she abandoned me all those years ago? She left me and she never returned. Look at the life she has made for herself. Did she even plan on returning or had she forgotten me entirely?" Sir Oren goes quiet, glancing away from you. When he speaks, his voice is low, an apologetic sound in his tone. "I am sorry, $name. You have endured much hardship and for that, I am truly sorry," he murmurs. "I only hope that you will be able to work through this, despite its difficulty." <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_71c5]]

As you settle into a silence, you find that your body aches and your head feels heavy as if it has been stuffed with cotton. Sir Oren glances at you, frowning in concern. "You are tired," he states. "It has been a long night for you, you should rest, $name." Your legs feel weak beneath you and you manage a nod. Sir Oren reaches out to steady you, his grip on your shoulder. Glancing at him, you find that he is far closer than he had been a minute ago. "Will you be alright on your own?" he asks. <<set $chp5_71c5 to 0>> [["I will be," you answer. "Thank you for being so considerate."|chp5_71c6][$chp5_71c5 +=1, $orenRel +=5]] [["I do not need your concern," you mutter, shaking his hand off.|chp5_71c6][$chp5_71c5 +=2, $orenRel -=5]] [[♡You grip his hand, smiling softly. "I will be, thank you for asking."|chp5_71c6][$chp5_71c5 +=3, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5]] <<if $irus_lock is false>> [[♡You shiver when he draws you into his chest, his grip warm and his heartbeat steady.|chp5_71c6][$chp5_71c5 +=4, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5, $shy_oren +=5]] [[♡You kiss him, unable to stop yourself as you grip him close.|chp5_71c6][$chp5_71c5 +=5, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5, $bold_oren +=5]]<</if>>

<<if $chp5_71c5 is 1>> "I will be," you answer. "Thank you for being so considerate." Sir Oren smiles softly in response, his grip loosening before he withdraws his hand. There is an anchoring feeling about Sir Oren, he seems to ground your thoughts and offers you kindness when most have not. You are still unused to being treated so gently and yet, you find that you cannot look away from Sir Oren. "Of course, $name," he replies. "You have done so much already and I fear that you might forget to take care of yourself in the chaos." You laugh, a gentle sound that bubbles past your lips. "You need not worry too much for me, Sir Oren." He nods. "That may be so but it will not stop me from caring about you, $name." For a moment, you stare at him, grateful for his consideration and for the way he looks at you - as a friend and not simply as someone who has been offered protection by his Queen. With a sigh, you glance at the temple, yawning slightly. "I suppose I shall retire to bed then," you say. "Thank you for tonight, Sir Oren." <<elseif $chp5_71c5 is 2>> "I do not need your concern," you mutter, shaking his hand off. You never asked for his pity and you certainly do not enjoy being coddled like a child. Sir Oren's hand falls to his side and he gazes at you with a frown. He seems almost upset but you cannot help but scoff at the thought. There is nothing for him to be upset about. He is the one who has treated you as being incapable. Sir Oren shakes his head. "It was not meant to offend you, $name. I was only worried." "I have been on my own for long enough to know how to take care of myself," you huff. "Keep your pity to yourself." Sir Oren's lips purse into a thin line and he steps away from you. There is an unreadable look in his hazel eyes, but you imagine it must be irritation because his hands press into the sides of his trousers. "Very well," he replies. "I will not disturb you any further." He does not look at you as he turns away, leaving you alone where you stand. You narrow your eyes at his retreating back, glad to be free of his concern. <<elseif $chp5_71c5 is 3>> You grip his hand, smiling softly. "I will be, thank you for asking." Sir Oren's hazel eyes dart to where your hand rests against his, a deep red flushing his cheeks as he looks away. You let out a breath when he grips your hand, threading your fingers together. His palm is rough and warm and the graze of his fingers on the underside of your wrist is enough to make you shiver. "I will always worry about you, $name," he breathes. Your skin warms at his words, his breath brushing against your face. Drawing closer, Sir Oren pulls you into his chest. Hugging him is enough to ground you, his broad chest and strong arms like an anchor that holds you down when you find yourself struggling to find your footing. He strokes the side of your face with his thumb, his gaze soft as he regards you. "Rest well, $name and know that I will be waiting for you in the morning." Withdrawing from you, you struggle not to reach out and pull him back to you. Sir Oren smiles warmly, a well of affection in his eyes as he lets go of your hands. His quiet warmth is enough to steal your breath and you find it difficult to turn away from him and retire for the night. <<elseif $chp5_71c5 is 4>> You shiver when he draws you into his chest, his grip warm and his heartbeat steady. A breath escapes you and you bring your hands up to rest against the solidness of his wide shoulders. Sir Oren is a silent strength, someone who has been trained for war and yet, who holds you as though you are made of fragile glass. "I worry about you," he admits. "I only wish that I could have been there when you needed a friend the most." His words only makes your chest squeeze and you bury your face into his hold, breathing in his scent. Sir Oren brings his hand to the back of your neck, the graze of his fingers sending shivers through you. His mouth presses against the shell of your ear and you feel the way his lips move as he speaks. "You deserve kindness and love," he murmurs. "Sir Oren," you mumble, suddenly uncertain how to respond. His words send your heartbeat soaring and when he pulls away to gaze at you, there is a softness in his expression that only serves to make your face warm. He smiles, his lips grazing the top of your forhead before he pulls away entirely. "You should rest, $name," he states, smiling. "I will see you in the morning." <<elseif $chp5_71c5 is 5>> You kiss him, unable to stop yourself as you grip him close. There is a desperation in the way your mouth finds Sir Oren's and in an instant, he is kissing you back. You know that you must make quite a sight towards those around you but you cannot bring yourself to care. Sir Oren's arms slide around your waist, pulling you even closer until there is no space between your bodies. He is warm and smells like woodsmoke. The press of his fingers into your back is enough to elicit a sharp sound from your mouth and Sir Oren pulls away to stare at you. "$name," he breathes, your name like a divine prayer on his lips. And then, you are kissing him again. His lips part against your mouth and you shudder when you feel the heat of his tongue against yours. You kiss him until your chest aches and your desperation becomes desire and yearning. Sir Oren is the first to pull away, his lips wet from your kiss. You blink, slightly dizzy and breathless. Sir Oren's chest rises and falls as he stares at you, his hazel eyes dark with hunger. For a moment, neither of you speaks and then, someone laughs and the moment is broken. Eyes widening, Sir Oren withdraws from you. "Deities, I did not mean to lose sight of- I mean that-" "It is alright," you murmur. Sir Oren flushes, cupping your chin. "You should rest, $name. I have taken too much of your time already." <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_71c7]]

It is with a sigh that you eventually make your way towards the temple. Your room is still small and the cot is lumpy and as you sink under the covers, you find your body creaking in exhaustion. There is little time for the racing thoughts to grip your attention, not when sleep beckons you. You can only hope that tomorrow will not be nearly as tiring as today. [[Next.|chp5_end]]

<<if $chp5_71d is 1>> "I did not mean to intrude," you apologise, flashing her a small smile. Anu shrugs, her lips tugging upwards as she regards you. In the firelight, she appears much younger than she had when you first met her, the creases of distrust now replaced by an openness that was not there before. "It is alright," she replies, grinning. "You caused no harm." Gesturing to the fire, you glance at the remnants of the bundle she cast into the flames. "What were you making an offering for?" Anu pauses, her expression turning thoughtful. You stare at her, noting the way her eyes soften and the way the flames bathe her brown skin as if she was made of bronze. She cuts a strong figure, one that reminds you of her ferociousness when you were in the prison. "A thanks to Ehulla," she responds. "She protected us tonight and it is something that cannot be taken for granted." <<elseif $chp5_71d is 2>> "What was in that bundle you cast into the fire?" you question, curious. The bundle she cast into the flames is already dark, withering into ash and smoke. Whatever remains is too dark to make out what it used to be. Anu glances at you, her grey eyes nearly gold from the reflection of the fire and you are reminded of the way she looked when wielding her fiery blade. "Some herbs," she explains. "To give thanks to Ehulla for protecting us when we freed the prisoners." You glance at the remnants of the bundle, nodding in response. When you do not speak, Anu turns to look at you more closely. For a moment, it feels as if she is searching through your mind. She nods to herself, as if satisfied by what she found in you. "Most of our people worship the Ancient Ones," she says, gesturing to the courtyard. "There are some who prefer the Vinian deities and others do not follow the ways of our ancestors at all. Unlike in Cyre, we are free to choose here." <<elseif $chp5_71d is 3>> "Some leniency?" you demand. "I did more than most to help free the prisoners. I expect more than just some leniency." Your words draw Anu's attention to you, her eyes glimmering dangerously as she gazes at you. You do not cower beneath her stare, unwilling to back down from the anger that flashes through the grey of her eyes. Tonight, you risked your life and you expect to be treated with more respect than she has given you. "You simply think that by accompanying us that you will be given freedom?" she asks. "You are not one of us. There is no alliance as yet." "But there will be," you retort. "I honoured the deal and now, you will honour yours." Anu's lips twist into a scowl and she lets out a huff, frustration filling her features until she can no longer look at you. You watch as her fingers reach out to her side, but the blade she wielded earlier tonight is absent and Anu only grips her hip, a growl rumbling in the back of her throat. <<elseif $chp5_71d is 4>> "Oh," you mumble, flushing at the way she looks at you. It is mesmerising to watch as the flames of the fire reflect against her dark skin and pale eyes. If deities could walk amongst mortals, you would imagine that a goddess would look like Anu. She is tall and strong, her eyes flashing with mischief when she catches your admiration of her. You flush, suddenly swallowing a breath before you look at anything but Anu. "Is that all you can say?" Anu asks, her voice teasing. She draws closer, until you can feel the heat from her skin. "Or has the heat of the fire rendered you voiceless?" Her fingers curl against the flushed skin of your face and you let out a startled sound, nearly stumbling into the fire behind you. Anu grips your arms, steadying you as she chuckles. The sound is light and only serves to make your heartbeat quicken. She must know the effect she has on you, because she lets her fingers linger on you. "I... that is not..." you stammer. Anu laughs louder, tilting her head as she regards you. "You are quite the sight when you are shy." <<elseif $chp5_71d is 5>> "Only leniency? I was hoping for something more," you breathe, smirking at her. The teasing of your voice does not go unnoticed and Anu is suddenly striding towards you, her eyes glimmering with desire. You shiver when she draws you close, the heat of her skin rivalling that of the fire behind you. Like this, you can smell the cloves on her breath and feel the rough callouses of her palm. "More?" she asks, grinning. "I can give you whatever you want, my sweet." A shudder runs down your spine and your fingers tangle into the material of her tunic. She laughs in delight, her grey eyes raking over your features as she lowers her mouth to the exposed skin of your throat. A jolt of desire twists at your stomach when you feel the barest touch of her lips against your neck, her kiss light. She withdraws before you can respond, her eyes alight with mirth as she takes in your expression. You cannot deny that she is alluring or that your heartbeat soars whenever she is near. All too soon, her hands fall away from your skin and you shiver, suddenly desperate for her warmth once more. <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_71d2]]

The crackle of the flames draws your attention to its heat and you are reminded of Anu's blade. No one else seemed surprised by its glow or at the ease at which it cut through metal. Anu notices your stare and raises a dark eyebrow, casting you a questioning look. "What is it?" she asks. You think about the blade and the strength in which she wielded it. Her eyes had seemed to glow then too and you are still uncertain what to make of it. <<set $chp5_71d2 to 0>> [["Your blade from before, how does it work?" you ask.|chp5_71d3][$chp5_71d2 +=1]] [["What type of smithing do you have in Ishari?" you question.|chp5_71d3][$chp5_71d2 +=2]] [["Your eyes glowed before," you state, frowning in confusion.|chp5_71d3][$chp5_71d2 +=3]]

<<if $chp5_71d2 is 1>> "Your blade from before, how does it work?" you ask. Anu laughs, the sound amused as she examines you. You are uncertain what is so funny. Perhaps you saw wrong? And yet, the questions still linger in your mind and no matter how much you try to make sense of it, you know that you will not come up with the answer alone. "It is a sword," Anu explains. "It cuts like any other sword would." "It cut through metal," you reply. "It was as if-" "It was on fire?" Anu asks. "Atses' Heart was a gift when I became a priestess. If those of us hold an affinity with the Ancient Ones, we are gifted blades forged by the blood of the deities." "I do not understand," you mumble. Anu shrugs. "It is not meant to be understood. It simply is the way it is." <<elseif $chp5_71d2 is 2>> "What type of smithing do you have in Ishari?" you question. Anu frowns at you in confusion. For a long time, she does not answer you, the only sounds coming the chattering of those in the courtyard. You open your mouth to speak, but Anu shakes her head, interrupting what you were about to say. "You are talking about Atses' Heart," she says. A grin pulls at the corner of her lips. "Why, do you not have swords in Cyre?" Your eyebrows furrow. "Not swords like yours." Anu laughs, as if amused by your frustration. "We are blessed in Ishari because we do not abandon the deities. Some of us carry their divine gifts. Atses' Heart was given to me when I became a priestess." "But how does it work?" you demand. Anu shrugs. "It only works for those who are touched by the Ancient Ones. Some cannot wield its powers and others have died from trying." <<elseif $chp5_71d2 is 3>> "Your eyes glowed before," you state, frowning in confusion. Anu blinks, rubbing at her eyes almost instinctively. When she meets your gaze, you find that they are still the same shade of grey that they had been when you first met her. But in the prison, you remember her eyes glowing as brightly as the sun, a golden fire that made her seem otherworldly. "It was the blessing of the Ancient Ones," Anu explains. "Sometimes, the power of Ehulla flows through me when I call upon it." You frown. "But how?" Anu shrugs. "How does a person breathe? You are not taught to breathe. It simply happens. When I became a priestess, I discovered that I possessed the divine blessings that others did not." "Your sword-" "Atses' Heart was a gift," she interrupts. "Not many can wield divine weapons, but I found that I could." <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_71d4]]

There are many unanswered questions you have for Anu and the implications of what she has told you. Does this mean that the Ancient Ones exist or is this just a sign of technology that is not fully understood? You do not get to voice your thoughts, because Anu turns and speaks first. "Your mother is High Priestess Salyra," she states. Her lips press into a frown. "None of us knew about your relation to her until now." <<set $chp5_71d4 to 0>> [["I was a child when she left me with my father," you explain.|chp5_71d5][$chp5_71d4 +=1]] [["No, I suppose she would not be eager to talk about me," you spit, your anger still fresh.|chp5_71d5][$chp5_71d4 +=2]] [["That is understandable," you murmur. "Neither of us have spoken in twenty years."|chp5_71d5][$chp5_71d4 +=3]]

<<if $chp5_71d4 is 1>> "I was a child when she left me with my father," you explain. Anu's expression softens slightly and she looks at you not with pity, but understanding. You are struck by the sudden kindness in her grey eyes, a look that speaks of experience in losing those you love the most. "She protected you," Anu murmurs. "Perhaps we have more in common than I thought." You frown. "What do you mean?" Anu sighs, her eyes shifting towards the fire. "My birth parents were what the Blood Guard call rebels. They fought because they wanted a life free from war for me. But they were killed and I was taken in by the priestesses." She blinks and when she returns her attention to you, the pain that had been in her gaze is gone. "The war has stained our past and taken much from us, and those who were unfortunate enough to find themselves in Ishari," Anu explains. "Sometimes, it takes parents too." <<elseif $chp5_71d4 is 2>> "No, I suppose she would not be eager to talk about me," you spit, your anger still fresh. The bitterness in your voice draws Anu's attention towards you. She raises her eyebrows, her expression one of confusion. You wonder if Mama even bothered explaining her past or if she was embarrassed to admit that she had birthed a child with the former General of the Blood Guard? "You are angry at her, why?" Anu asks. You run a hand over your face, fury making your blood feel like liquid fire in your veins. "She abandoned me. All these years, she has been here in Ishari and I have not heard a single thing from her." "Your mother is fighting a war against the Blood Guard," Anu explains. "I do not think she wished to be apart from you for so long. High Priestess Salyra is not-" "Do not tell me what my own mother is like," you spit. "You are not the one who discovered that she was here, being a mother to another child while she left me in Salt Bay." Anu sighs. "It seems that you will need to confront her about your feelings." You only grunt in response, realising that Anu is right. When you next see your mother, you will have to decide what you want from her. <<elseif $chp5_71d4 is 3>> "That is understandable," you murmur. "Neither of us have spoken in twenty years." "Twenty years?" Anu asks, her eyes widening. You nod, your chest tightening. For as long as you can remember, Mama had been the one person you thought would always love you the way Ahlf seemed unable to. And yet, now that you have discovered that she had been in Ishari all this time, it is difficult to make peace with the idea that she left you in Salt Bay for your own good. "We fled when I was still a child," you answer. "My father was in Salt Bay and I grew up in Cyre." Anu runs a hand through the short strands of her hair. "I did not know. I am sorry, $name." "Perhaps it is for the better," you respond. "I do not think I would be who I am were it not for my childhood." <</if>> [[Next.|chp5_71d6]]

As you stand in silence, you find yourself thinking about your mother and the life she must have led in Ishari. Rana cannot be older than ten which would mean that you mother would have been in Ishari for at least that long, or perhaps she had been travelling before that. You are uncertain but what you do know is that your mother had made no attempt at returning to you. Your thoughts are interrupted by Anu. She glances at a group of priestesses before looking at you. "I need to go, $name," she explains. "There are many who did not survive the wounds inflicted by the Blood Guards. I must help the others prepare for the funeral pyre." You nod in response, remembering the injured prisoners from earlier. While most have been freed, you know that many will need time to recover from the wounds inflicted on them, both mentally and physically. Anu turns from you, heading towards the priestesses. Sleep tugs at your mind and you suddenly want nothing more than to rest. With a yawn, you head towards your small room, hoping that tomorrow is not nearly as chaotic as today. [[Next.|chp5_end]]

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It is the sun that rouses you in the early hours of dawn. For a moment, there is only warmth and the gentle bliss that comes from a long night's rest. And then you feel it - the press of limbs and the softness of a breath against the nape of your neck. You blink, sleep and lethargy abandoning you now that you are awake. Shifting, you turn and find Prince Irus beside you.<<if $irus_sex is true and $virgin is true>> A flush blossoms against your cheeks as you gaze at Prince Irus' face. He is still asleep, his breaths slow and even as you study him. Last night, you had shared more than words and kisses. You gave him something you have never given another and the thought is enough to make your stomach flutter with excitement and nervousness.<<elseif $irus_sex is true and $virgin is false>> Your chest swells with the knowledge that last night, your relationship with Prince Irus had become far more than you ever expected it to become. A smile pulls at the corners of your lips as you study him, knowing that you are no longer alone in this journey.<<elseif $irus_sex is false>> You have always been alone, your bed empty of anyone but yourself. But last night, you had spent it with Prince Irus, enjoying the way his breath fanned against your skin and the press of his warmth against you as you laid alongside each other in the narrow bed. You smile softly, gazing at his sleeping face, enjoying this moment of peace.<</if>> Watching Prince Irus sleep, you find that his expression is calm, absent of the worries that plague him while awake. You take in his long eyelashes against his cheeks, the way his lips part with every exhale as he sleeps. Without thinking, you... <<set $chp6_start to 0>> [[...smooth back the golden strands of his hair from his forehead.|chp6_1][$chp6_start +=1]] [[...nestle closer into his chest, intending to remain like this for a while longer.|chp6_1][$chp6_start +=2]] [[...kiss his forehead gently, trying not to rouse him.|chp6_1][$chp6_start +=3]]

You awaken at dawn, the heat of the early morning already thick in the air. For a moment, it is as if you are still in your small bed in the home you shared with Ahlf. And then, the memories come flooding back, like the crash of a wave over your head. You sit up, the thin blanket falling to the floor and you remember everything from last night. //Your mother is alive.// The thought is enough to make your chest squeeze painfully and you stare at your hands, suddenly afflicted with the turmoil that comes from having your entire life changed in a single moment. Last night, you spent your night with $chp5_70 and for a while, you were able to forget about what brought you back to your mother. As you sit on the side of your bed, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts, you can only feel... <<set $chp6ALT to 0>> [[...dread at the prospect of confronting your mother again.|chp6ALT_1][$chp6ALT +=1]] [[...nervous anticipation at being able to spend more time with your mother.|chp6ALT_1][$chp6ALT +=2]] [[...raw fury at having to see your mother after learning about her betrayal.|chp6ALT_1][$chp6ALT +=3]] [[...bitterness at knowing that you will eventually have to deal with the pain caused from your mother's actions.|chp6ALT_1][$chp6ALT +=4]] [[...numb confusion, unable to make sense of your mother's actions.|chp6ALT_1][$chp6ALT +=5]]

<<if $chp6_start is 1>> The blond strands of his hair are soft against the pads of your fingers. Slowly, you push them away from his forehead. As Prince Irus sleeps, you pause to gaze at his sleeping form. The blanket is thin and covers the both of you, not nearly enough to keep away the chill of the early morning, but enough to make it feel as if it is only the two of you in existence. <<elseif $chp6_start is 2>> You lean closer, breathing in Prince Irus' familiar scent as you bury your face into his chest. He is warm, his heartbeat steady under the palm of your hand as you settle against him. For a moment, you bask in his warmth, the sound of his steady breathing against your ear as you press closer to his chest. There is a familiarity in Prince Irus that you have not felt with anyone before and it is enough to make you smile. <<elseif $chp6_start is 3>> It is difficult to keep away from Prince Irus and as you draw nearer, you gaze at sleeping face, enjoying the way his warmth feels against you. Reaching out, you brush the strands of his golden hair away from his forehead, before you lean closer. Gently, careful not to rouse Prince Irus, you press your lips against his forehead. The kiss is soft, a thing that does not last longer than a second and when you pull away, you find your heart surging with affection. <</if>> He must sense your stare even as he sleeps, because a moment later, his eyes flutter open. You pause, taking in the blue of his eyes and the way his lips curve up when his gaze meets yours. "$name," he murmurs. His fingers reach out, curling under your chin. "Do not tell me that you have been watching me sleep all this time. I know that I am attractive, but even I must admit that this infatuation of yours is becoming worrisome." There is a teasing lilt in his voice and from the way he smirks at you, you know that he is only jesting. <<set $chp6_1 to 0>> [["I was merely thinking how ugly you look when you sleep," you laugh, flicking his forehead.|chp6_2][$chp6_1 +=1, $irusRel +=5, $irusRom +=5]] [["I..." you mumble, suddenly unable to find your voice as he gazes softly at you.|chp6_2][$chp6_1 +=2, $irusRel +=5, $irusRom +=5, $flirt_shy +=5]] [["You are quite swoonworthy," you agree, smirking at him in return.|chp6_2][$chp6_1 +=3]] [["I have never felt this way before," you admit. "Forgive me if I seem to stare at you."|chp6_2][$chp6_1 +=4, $irusRel +=5, $irusRom +=5]]

<<if $chp6_1 is 1>> "I was merely thinking how ugly you look when you sleep," you laugh, flicking his forehead. Prince Irus makes a face, grabbing your wrist as you begin to pull your hand away. You raise an eyebrow, noting the mirth in his bright eyes and the way he fights a smile from pulling at his lips. For a moment, you do not speak. Prince Irus' fingers trace a slow pattern against the unserside of your wrist, heat spreading through your arm. "You are a poor liar, $name," he chuckles. "Do not think I am blind to your smitten stares." Despite yourself, you let out a bark of laughter. It is easy to be around Prince Irus, you realise. Whatever has happened, you know that being with him will always be this way. He grins when your eyes meet again and this time, he pulls you closer, his chest warm against you. His heartbeat is loud, a thunderous sound when you press your ear against his chest. Slowly, you allow yourself to enjoy the way that Prince Irus holds you. There is a strength in his grip, a tightness in the way that his fingers curl into your sides and draws you into his warm embrace that makes it difficult to want to ever pull away. "It is alright," he murmurs, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. "I am quite smitten with you too." You look up at him, your breath getting caught in the back of your throat. "You are?" He runs his thumb over your lower lip, smiling. "Yes." <<elseif $chp6_1 is 2>> "I..." you mumble, suddenly unable to find your voice as he gazes softly at you. You curse at the way your heartbeat suddenly gallops to life, thundering beneath your chest. It is hard to breathe, to simply think when Prince Irus is looking at you like //that//. He gazes at you, his blue eyes softening as his smirk eases into a smile. Gently, he draws you closer to his chest and you let out a sharp breath. "Have I rendered you speechless, Beloved?" he asks, grinning. "I... no... that is..." you stammer, suddenly stopping. Prince Irus chuckles, his voice lilting and deep. You can feel the way his voice rumbles through his chest, the reveberations tickling your arms and skin. A slow scrape of his finger against the underside of your jaw is enough to make you shiver and you instintively close your eyes against Prince Irus' touch. "You are breathtaking," he murmurs. Your eyes widen at his words and you find yourself staring at him, your breathing erratic and your stomach fluttering with heat. Prince Irus meets your gaze, his expression full of warmth and affection, enough to make your skin warm under his eyes. He leans closer, his mouth brushing your ear. "If you must know a secret," he whispers. "Know that I stare at you too." <<elseif $chp6_1 is 3>> "You are quite swoonworthy," you agree, smirking at him in return. Prince Irus lets out a deep chuckle, the sound rumbling in his chest. You stare at him, enjoying the way his voice curls around you, its familiarity enough to draw you closer to him. A smile settles against Prince Irus' lips as he regards you, mirth heavy in the blue of his eyes. "It is good to concede on matters of my attraction," he laughs. You rest your chin against your elbow, taking in his expression. His eyes in turn, take in your own features and for a moment, neither of you are able to look away. Your stomach flutters with excitement, a yearning that goes beyond simple want. Prince Irus is enough, you realise. No matter what may come, you will happily tackle it as long as he is by your side. "There is not much use in arguing," you respond, your fingers slipping through his hair. "How could I hope to win when you look at me like that?" He laughs, turning to kiss the underside of your wrist. The press of his lips, a warmth that blossoms through your skin is enough to steal your breath and you can do nothing but bask in his heat. "I only look at you like that because it is difficult to deny my attraction for you," he replies. You swallow, gazing at him. He offers you a smile, his expression suddenly warm. <<elseif $chp6_1 is 4>> "I have never felt this way before," you admit. "Forgive me if I seem to stare at you." The words come unbidden and you realise a moment too late that Prince Irus has heard them. You blink, staring at him as heat begins to fill you, your stomach twisting with nerves and yearning. Prince Irus does not speak and you worry that you must have said something foolish but then, he is suddenly reaching out for you, pulling you closer into his embrace. "There is nothing to forgive, $name," he murmurs, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. He draws away slightly so that he can turn to gaze at you. You can do nothing but simply bask under his gaze, enjoying the way his fingers trace indecipherable patterns against your shoulders. A shiver runs down your spine and you suddenly want to remain like this, in Prince Irus' embrace, for all eternity. "I truly meant what I said," you breathe, gazing at him. "I know," he replies, smiling softly. "I... I feel the same. In all my years of being surrounded by those who only looked at me as my father's son, there were none who looked at me the way you do." Your eyebrows furrow. "How do I look at you?" He smiles, his lips brushing the side of your cheek. "Like I matter." <</if>> [[Next.|chp6_3]]

A sigh escapes Prince Irus as he begins to untangle himself from you. The bed creaks dangerously as he begins to sit up, the blanket slipping past his shoulders.<<if $irus_sex is true>> His chest gleams under the streaks of sunlight that slips through the narrow slat of the window, bathing his pale skin in a warm glow.<<elseif $irus_sex is false>> His tunic is creased from sleeping, the material clinging to his skin as he stretches his arms over his head.<</if>> He turns to look at you, his mouth opening to speak, but a knock on the door interrupts whatever he was about to say. You glance at the door, the knocking insistent. "Maybe if we pretend to be asleep, it will stop," Prince Irus whispers. "Iri. Open the door. I know that you're in there." The voice is muffled, but you have come to know it well - Queen Elora. Prince Irus makes a face, grumbling as he makes himself presentable before walking towards the door. He positions himself between the door and the bed where you are still seated, before he opens it. You can barely tell what is being said and from the tiny crack of the opened door, and only catch a word or two from Queen Elora that sounds worryingly like 'prisoners' and 'escape'. You stiffen, wondering if something has happened with the freed prisoners from last night. The door closes and Prince Irus turns to you with wide eyes. "You should get up. The Nomad prisoners have escaped." [[Next.|chp6_4]]

It does not take long for you to stand from the bed, smoothing the wrinkles of your clothes from the night before. Prince Irus glances at you, any semblance of calm, now replaced with panic. You slip on your shoes, the realisation of what has happened, crashing over you. The knowledge that your mother is alive and that she has a new family is enough to make you pause at the doorway. You are suddenly stricken with the thoughts of what could happen, now that the sun has arisen. Prince Irus glances at you, his blue eyes softening. "$name," he breathes. "It will be alright." He reaches out, squeezing your hand. "You will not be alone in any of this. I promise you this." You let out a shaky breath, nodding in return. He is right. You are no longer alone in this. Whatever may come, you will have Prince Irus by your side and that is enough to get you through anything. Stepping out into the hallway, you are met with Queen Elora. She glances at Prince Irus then at you, before her gaze settle where Prince Irus grips your hand in his. A small smile tugs at the corners of her lips and you suddenly feel very exposed when she glances at you in amusement. "I see that you managed to find some entertainment then, hm?" Queen Elora asks. <<set $chp6_4 to 0>> [[You become flustered, unable to look Queen Elora or Prince Irus in the face.|chp6_5][$chp6_4 +=1]] <<if $irus_sex is false>> [["We only spoke late into the night," you respond, smiling at the memory.|chp6_5][$chp6_4 +=2]]<</if>> <<if $irus_sex is true>> [["I... that is..." you stammer, as heat spreads through you at the memories of what you and Prince Irus did last night.|chp6_5][$chp6_4 +=3]] [["We did enjoy ourselves greatly," you laugh.|chp6_5][$chp6_4 +=4]]<</if>>

<<if $chp6_4 is 1>> You become flustered, unable to look Queen Elora or Prince Irus in the face. Heat blossoms across your face and you find yourself staring at the floor, unable to lift your eyes to meet their stares. There is a soft laugh and you look up to find Queen Elora grinning at you, her eyes shifting between you and Prince Irus. "I did have my suspicions about the two of you," she explains. Prince Irus casts a glance at you, his eyes warm and his smile genuine. "I suppose your suspicions were right." <<if $eloraRom gte 30>> Queen Elora's smile is not nearly as large as she glances at you and you wonder for a moment if she is thinking about the moments you have shared with each other. Whatever she must see in your expression seems to satisfy her, because she nods at you, her eyes warm.<</if>> "I am happy for the both of you," she replies. "After everything that has happened, you deserve this." "Thank you," you murmur. Queen Elora flashes you another smile, gesturing towards the rest of the hallway. "We should go. There is a lot to discuss this morning." <<elseif $chp6_4 is 2>> "We only spoke late into the night," you respond, smiling at the memory. Your conversation with Prince Irus had been enough to put your mind at ease. Never before have you felt such a strong bond with someone and you are grateful to have had a moment of respite with the one person who has been with you from the start of your entire journey. Queen Elora glances at you, her eyes filled with mirth. "I see. It is strange to think that you have managed to steal Iri's heart so easily. Before he met you, he was-" "I think that is enough," Prince Irus interrupts, his cheeks stained red. "No need to dredge up the past, Ellie." <<if $eloraRom gte 30>> Queen Elora glances at you once more, her gaze softening and for a moment, there is a flicker of sadness in her dark eyes. You wonder if she is thinking about the shared moments between you and realising that you have finally chosen someone else. But the moment passes and soon, she is smiling at you.<</if>> "Very well," she answers. "I will let $name find out about your past on $MChis own. For now, we have bigger issues to deal with." <<elseif $chp6_4 is 3>> "I... that is..." you stammer, as heat spreads through you at the memories of what you and Prince Irus did last night. Your chest squeezes painfully as your skin blossoms with heat at the sudden memory of the night before. It is hard to meet Prince Irus' eyes without remembering the way his mouth felt against yours or the way your skin tingled with pleasure. Queen Elora's laugh draws your attention away and you let out a breath you were unaware that you had been holding. "I think that is enough teasing," Prince Irus responds, his fingers squeezing yours. Queen Elora smiles, casting you a soft glance. "I did not mean to tease you, $name. I am only happy to see you and Iri together. In times like these, it is difficult to remember that we are allowed some semblance of joy." "I... thank you," you respond. <<if $eloraRom gte 30>> A moment passes as Queen Elora gazes at you, her expression a mixture between sorrow and happiness. You wonder if she is recalling the moments you shared together and whether she will be upset about your choice, but you are rewarded by a kinder gaze, one of acceptance.<</if>> "Come," she says. "There is much to deal with this morning. I am afraid that we will not get much rest today." <<elseif $chp6_4 is 4>> "We did enjoy ourselves greatly," you laugh. Prince Irus turns to you, his eyes wide as he regards you. You meet his gaze, daring him to contradict you and when he does not, your lips pull into a smile. Queen Elora chuckles beside the both of you, her laughter drawing your attention towards her. She smiles, her dark eyes filled with amusement. "That is good to hear," she replies. "You know, when we were younger, there were these horrid whispers of Iri's dismal performance in-" "That was a rumour and you know it," Prince Irus interrupts, his eyebrows furrowing. He glances at you. "Do not listen to Ellie, she does not know what she is talking about." <<if $eloraRom gte 30>> Queen Elora glances at you, the amusement in her expression falling slightly when she regards you. You offer her a soft smile, wondering if she is thinking about the moments you shared together. A moment passes and you fear that she might be upset, but then, she returns your smile, her eyes warm.<</if>> "Iri is right," she replies. "There is little time to tease him when we have more pressing issues at hand." <</if>> [[Next.|chp6_6]]

It is not long before you are standing in the main chamber of the temple, the same chamber where Prince Irus tried to win the support of the Ishari people. The room is empty, save for the rest of your companions. Anu and Sargon stand to one side, and Anu<<if $anuRel gte 55>> nods at you in greeting<<else>> frowns at your appearance.<</if>> "What happened?" Prince Irus asks, his eyebrows furrowing. "I thought that the prisoners were secured when they left the ship." It is Lord Redall who speaks, his lips twisting. "They were being kept in a small room but they managed to break the door and escape." <<if $lena_free is true>> You think about Lena and wonder for a moment if she has something to do with the escape of the prisoners. It is hard to know what she was thinking, but you cannot imagine that it would have been easy to free the Nomad prisoners without being caught. <<elseif $lena_free is false>> You think about Lena, the leader of the Nomad prisoners and wonder if she managed to work out an escape when the rest of you were distracted. It would make sense that she has found some way to escape, after everything that happened on Lord Redall's barge, you do not think that she would be willing to agree to an alliance. <</if>> "Where are they now?" you ask. Sir Oren catches your gaze, frowning slightly. "We do not know, $name." "We are doing our best to locate them," Sargon interjects. He gestures towards Anu. "We have our best scouts looking for them. If they are truly working with the Blood Guard then we must stop them from reaching Cyre." "We have to find them," Prince Irus replies. "If my uncle realises that I am here then he will surely send the Blood Guard." Anu scoffs. "We have been dealing with the Blood Guard for years. You will do no such thing as chase after a few sailors who might reach your uncle. Our scouts are watching every exit point of Urur. They will be found." "So what do we do now?" Queen Elora asks, glancing around the room. "Are we simply to wait for them to be found?" Anu shakes her head. "You want an alliance so you will get your chance to speak to Princess Lamahu. We will travel to the city of Sangasu by midday." [[Next.|chp6_7]]

<<if $chp6ALT is 1>> You feel dread fill into the pit of your stomach, a wriggling swarm of bees that buzz around until you are certain that you will be ill. A breath escapes you, the strangled sound fighting to claw its way up your throat and past your lips as if your head has been shoved beneath the surface of the ocean and you are struggling to breathe. Hunching over, you place your hands on your knees, your breaths coming out sharp and erratic. You stare at your hands and then, the floor beneath your bare feet. Slowly, the dread becomes a slight tremor and you find your breathing once more, a stable inhale and exhale. <<elseif $chp6ALT is 2>> There is a twist in your stomach, a fluttering of nerves and something resembling anticipation at the thought that you will finally be able to see your mother, to hear her voice and see her smile. Things have been difficult for you and you hope that the distance between the two of you proves to be too difficult to overcome. Yet, the anticipation and eagerness is marred by your worries. What if things are not the same as it used to be? You let out a derisive snort. It will not be the same. So much has changed in the time that you knew Mama. She is a different woman and you are no longer the same $heir that she knew. <<elseif $chp6ALT is 3>> The anger comes fast, the heat of your rage enough to make your fingers curl into the fabric of your pants. Knowing that you will have to face your mother, to face her new family is enough to make you want to scream. You do not wish to see her or to speak to her after what you have learnt about her new life. You wonder vaguely if she ever thought about returning to you, but then, you discard the thought. A scoff escapes your lips, the bitter sound enough to make your lips twist into a scowl. It is difficult to quell your anger, the feeling so intense that it makes your skin burn and your chest to constrict. You suck in a breath, and then, another. Slowly, the rage simmers into a slow burn, not nearly gone, but it is enough. <<elseif $chp6ALT is 4>> There is a deep bitterness that surges past your throat, coating your thoughts with a heaviness that settles against your neck and shoulders. You sag against the bed, the weight of your mother's actions and words too heavy to carry. A breath escapes your lips, the shaky sound matching the trembling in your fingers. Your mother has another life here, one that you never had the opportunity of be a part of. For years, you imagined what it would have been like with your mother instead of Ahlf and now, you realise that perhaps it is she and not the Blood Guard who robbed you of a childhood. <<elseif $chp6ALT is 5>> A numbness fills your mind, the dull sensation making your thoughts muffled. For a moment, you bask in the silence, grateful for the respite that comes from the unfeeling hollowness that fills your chest. You do not know how to make sense of what has happened, not when you are overwhelmed by everything else. Your mother has a life here in Ishari, a life that you have not been privy to and you wonder if she is aware of the life you had in Cyre with Ahlf. She must not, you think, because how could anyone make peace with sending away their $heir to live in a place like Salt Bay? The thoughts only leave you rattled, filled with confusion as though your mind has been filled with cotton. <</if>> <<if $salyraRel lte 49>> Your relationship with your mother has become something difficult to move past without having to deal with your feelings towards her. So much has happened in the years that you have been apart. The woman you thought you knew as a child is not the woman you know now. <<elseif $salyraRel gte 50>> It is hard to know what to truly make of your mother's actions. For a long time, you had wished to know what happened to her and now that she is here again, you cannot deny that there is a small part of you that yearns for her love once more. You cannot deny the pain she caused you, but perhaps you can finally move past the sorrow you have felt all these years. <</if>> There is a knock on the door, the sound enough to draw your attention to it. You stand, your limbs aching as you pull the door open, revealing a frantic Queen Elora. "$name," she breathes. "There has been an issue." You frown. "What is it?" "The Nomad prisoners have escaped," she answers. [[Next.|chp6_6]]

As the others begin to filter out of the room, your mind drifts to Lena.<<if $lena_free is true>> You had convinced Prince Irus that freeing her was the best thing to have done, but with the escape of the Nomad prisoners, you are beginning to doubt whether you made the right choice. It is Lord Redall who approaches you, his strides long and his face hard. "$name," he calls. "I am uncertain if you are aware, but the prisoner you freed is still being kept under guard. She has been given a room in the temple." He pauses, staring at you. "Freeing her was the wrong thing to do and I do not doubt that she is responsible for the escape of the prisoners." "I-" Lord Redall shakes his head. "If I find out that she is responsible, I will not stop to do what is right." "And what is that?" you ask, noting the cold expression on his face. He shrugs. "What should have been done a long time ago."<<elseif $lena_free is false>> You did not free Lena and you wonder if she is responsible for the escape of the Nomad prisoners. When you spoke to her, you could not deny her resilience nor could you deny her cunning. If the prisoners escaped then you are certain it is because of her actions. Lord Redall notices you from across the chamber and turns towards you, his strides long and his expression twisted into irritation. "The woman from the brig is gone too," he mutters. "What did you manage to get from her when you spoke with her?" You shrug. "It was not much, only that she was working under the orders of others in the Nomad Tribe." Lord Redall lets out growl, the sound full of frustration. "She is responsible for this, I know it. When I find her, I will make certain that she pays for this." You frown, suddenly aware of the hardness in Lord Redall's voice. If you had not known him before the voyage, you might have considered him bloodthirsty.<</if>> "Excuse me," Lord Redall states, glancing away from you. "I must speak with the scouts. Perhaps we will have better luck if I set out to track the escaped prisoners, myself." Now alone, you cast a glance at the chamber around you. Your companions are huddled to one side, talking in hushed tones. To the other side, you spot Anu exiting the temple with Sargon at her side. [[You decide to speak with your companions.|chp6_8a]] [[You hurry after Anu, your mind filled with questions about the prioners' escape.|chp6_8b]]

You make your way to where your companions stand, their faces a mixture of panic and confusion. As you approach, it is $chp5_70 who notices you first. "$name," Queen Elora speaks. "We were discussing the implications of the prisoners escape." Prince Irus sighs. "It is yet another issue that we must tackle, it seems." You turn towards Sir Oren who has not spoken as yet. His eyes meet yours and he offers you a slight smile that you think is meant to be reassuring, though from the worry in his eyes, you know that he is just as rattled as the others feel. "Redall will find them," Sir Oren says. "For now, our focus must be on securing an alliance with Princess Lamahu." <<set $chp6_8a to 0>><<set $chp6_8a1 to false>><<set $chp6_8a2 to false>><<set $chp6_8a3 to false>><<set $chp6_8a4 to false>> [["What do we know about Princess Lamahu?" you question.|chp6_8a1][$chp6_8a1 to true, $chp6_8a +=1]] [["What will be the terms of the alliance?" you ask.|chp6_8a2][$chp6_8a2 to true, $chp6_8a +=1]] [["What if she refuses an alliance?" you query.|chp6_8a3][$chp6_8a +=1, $chp6_8a3 to true]] [["What about the escaped prisoners?" you inquire. "Will that not influence Princess Lamahu's decision?"|chp6_8a4][$chp6_8a +=1, $chp6_8a4 to true]]

You hurry your steps to meet Anu as she strides out of the temple. As you step into the temple courtyard, you notice the presence of more people than you had seen when you first arrived. You realise that most of the new faces are the prisoners that were freed, their smiles a reassuring sight after the atrocities you know that they must have faced. "$name," Sargon calls, glancing at you. "Was there something you needed?" You think about the escaped Nomad prisoners and then, about Lena. There are a dozen questions on your mind and you are deseperate to know more about those who escaped. "I wanted to know more about the prisoners that escaped," you answer, glancing at Sargon then at Anu. Anu sighs, gesturing to Sargon. "Go on without me. I will meet with the scouts in a moment." Sargon nods, offering you a smile before he takes his leave. As soon as he disappears into the courtyard, Anu turns to look at you, her grey eyes pale in the early hours of the morning. You realise that she is willing to answer your questions and you decide to ask them, before she changes her mind. <<set $chp6_8b to 0>><<set $chp6_8b1 to false>><<set $chp6_8b2 to false>><<set $chp6_8b3 to false>><<set $chp6_8b4 to false>> [["When did the Nomad prisoners escape?" you ask.|chp6_8b1][$chp6_8b +=1, $chp6_8b1 to true]] [["How did the prisoners escape? Were they not under guard?" you question.|chp6_8b2][$chp6_8b +=2, $chp6_8b2 to true]] [["What will happen when the prisoners are found?" you query.|chp6_8b3][$chp6_8b +=1, $chp6_8b3 to true]] [["Will the escape of the Nomad prisoners affect the prospects of an alliance with Princess Lamahu?" you inquire.|chp6_8b4][$chp6_8b +=1, $chp6_8b4 to true]]

"What do we know about Princess Lamahu?" you question. It is Queen Elora who answers you. Her eyebrows furrow slightly, the darkness of her eyes meeting yours. "She is ruling over Ishari in the stead of her father. According to Sargon, she is willing to secure an alliance if we propose favourable terms." You wonder what type of person Princess Lamahu might be and the type of demands she might make of your companions. It is Prince Irus who needs to earn her favour, though by helping free the Ishari prisoners, you hope to have proven yourselves worthy allies. Prince Irus looks away, his lips pressing into a thin line. "Sargon told me the same thing, though I fear that she expects more than we are able to give her." Sir Oren glances at Prince Irus, shaking his head. "Our alliance will prevent an endless war led by your uncle, Your Highness. I believe that she will see the benefits of an alliance." Your companions lapse into silence once more, the thoughts of the alliance, weighing heavy on your mind. [[Next.|chp6_8a_landing]]

"What will be the terms of the alliance?" you ask. Prince Irus is the one who responds and from the seriousness in his tone, you realise that he must have given thoughts of the alliance a great deal of thought. He glances at you before looking towards the others, before speaking. "I will give Ishari its freedom," he explains. "For a long time, Ishari has been acting as an independant nation and it is time to acknowledge that Cyre and Ishari are no longer the same kingdom." You nod, remembering what you know about Ishari and Cyre. Before the Blood Guard and the war, the two regions had been united. Perhaps, it will be possible to remain allies without having to unify the regions as one. Queen Elora nods. "I assume that there will also be suggestions for trade and supplies between the regions and the religious freedom that the Blood Guard are against." "It seems like a good start," you reply, nodding at Prince Irus. [[Next.|chp6_8a_landing]]

"What if she refuses an alliance?" you query. There is a moment of silence as you words settle over the space amongst you. You glance at Sir Oren, before shifting your gaze to Queen Elora and Prince Irus. They were similar expressions of concern, the notion of failure, a difficult to come to terms with. "Then we will do what we must to find others who will support Iri," Queen Elora explains. She glances at Prince Irus, her eyes determined. "You will have my support in this, whatever may come." Prince Irus nods, letting out a shaky breath. "I hope that it does not come to that." He glances at you. "But Ellie is right, $name. There are others that will support us in my bid to reclaim the throne." [[Next.|chp6_8a_landing]]

"What about the escaped prisoners?" you inquire. "Will that not influence Princess Lamahu's decision?" Sir Oren casts you a look, his hazel eyes now filled with the beginnings of worry. You remember that the Nomad prisoners had been under the watch of Sir Oren's guards, but upon your arrival in Ishari, it had been easy to lose sight of who was supposed to be keeping guard of them. "The prisoners were under the watch of the Ishari warriors," Sir Oren explains. "I knew that I should have left some of my guards with them, but I did not think it would be necessary. I hope that Princess Lamahu does not see this as a poor reflection of our proposal." Prince Irus offers Sir Oren a smile. "It is not your fault, Captain. We will explain our case and hope that Princess Lamahu sees reason." He glances at you. "If she is not reasonable then perhaps it will be better to find out now than when it matters most." [[Next.|chp6_8a_landing]]

<<if $chp6_8a lt 4>>There are still questions that remain unanswered and you turn to your companions, hoping to glean more information about the alliance and what you can expect. <<if $chp6_8a1 is false>> [["What do we know about Princess Lamahu?" you question.|chp6_8a1][$chp6_8a1 to true, $chp6_8a +=1]]<</if>> <<if $chp6_8a2 is false>> [["What will be the terms of the alliance?" you ask.|chp6_8a2][$chp6_8a2 to true, $chp6_8a +=1]]<</if>> <<if $chp6_8a3 is false>> [["What if she refuses an alliance?" you query.|chp6_8a3][$chp6_8a +=1, $chp6_8a3 to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp6_8a4 is false>> [["What about the escaped prisoners?" you inquire. "Will that not influence Princess Lamahu's decision?"|chp6_8a4][$chp6_8a +=1, $chp6_8a4 to true]]<</if>> <<else>>You have asked your companions everything that you needed to know. With little time before you are expected to leave for the city of Sangasu, you part ways with your companions in order to prepare for your departure. [[Next.|chp6_9]]<</if>>

Your return to your room is marred by the thoughts of the Nomad prisoners' escape. It will only be a matter of time that they are caught or if they find their way back to the Blood Guard. A knot twists in your stomach, the knowledge that you might need to deal with the threat of the Blood Guard sooner than planned, enough to make your breath get caught in the back of your throat. <<if $lena_free is true>> As you near your room, you remember that Lena is still within the temple walls. You could always speak to her to find out if she knows more about the prisoners' escape. But as you glance at the sunlit courtyard through a nearby window, you know that you will have to prepare for your imminent journey. <<set $chp6_lenatalk to false>> [[You decide to return to your room.|chp6_11]] [[You will visit Lena first, hoping to get some answers.|chp6_10][$chp6_lenatalk to true]] <<else>> As you near your room, your thoughts turn to Lena. Was she responsible for the escape last night? You would not put it past her. She was less than agreeable when it came to the prospect of joining Prince Irus instead of supporting Virion and the Blood Guard. But all thoughts of Lena disappears when you catch sight of the one woman you never imagined seeing again - //your mother//. [[Next.|chp6_11]]<</if>>

"When did the Nomad prisoners escape?" you ask. Anu lets out a breath, brushing the dark strands that cling to her forehead. Even in the early hour of the morning, the heat in Ishari is far stronger than it was in Vinia and Cyre. She glances at the rest of the courtyard, before her grey eyes settle on you. "It was a little after we returned with the freed Ishari prisoners," she explains. "In the busyness of everything, they must have found a moment when the rest of us were distracted to escape." You frown, your eyebrows furrowing. When you returned, the courtyard had been busy, but how was it possible that the prisoners managed to escape without any notice? It is almost the same as when the Blood Guard found their way into the palace in Aspal. No one had been alerted then, either. [[Next.|chp6_8b_landing]]

"How did the prisoners escape? Were they not under guard?" you question. Something in your tone must sound accusatory because Anu's eyes are suddenly on you again, the grey depths swirling with an unknown intensity. You nearly cower under her stare, but manage to meet her eyes, refusing to back down from your words. "Are you suggesting that we helped them escape?" Anu asks. You frown. "I did not say that. I am only wondering how they escaped." Anu sighs. "Most of our buildings need repairs, but we do not have the means or the supplies when most of it goes towards housing those displaced during the war and towards funding the temples that house the warriors and priestesses." She gestures towards the courtyard buildings. There are a few, scattered across the grass, most with crumbling walls and doors that appear as if they would topple over from a single breeze. "They managed to break one of the doors, a disused one from the days before the war," Anu explains. "No one even knew it was there until we looked." "And the guards did not notice the prisoners were missing?" you ask. "It was chaotic in the courtyard last night, $name," she replies. "Even those who guarded the prisoners were overcome by seeing our people freed." [[Next.|chp6_8b_landing]]

"What will happen when the prisoners are found?" you query. You remember what Anu had said earlier. If every access point to the city was being watched then surely the prisoners would eventually be found. Your gaze turns towards the city beyond the temple courtyard. The city is large, nearly as large as Aspal. It would be fairly easy to disappear without notice. "They will answer for their crimes," Anu responds. "Redall tells me that they are responsible for the death of his crew and for that, they will pay for their crimes." You frown. "They are working with the Blood Guard, what if they simply find the closest Blood Guard and alert them to our presence here?" Anu scoffs, "You think highly of these prisoners, do you? They will be fools to return to the Blood Guard as failures, $name. What we will do is not nearly as bad as what the Blood Guard will do to them." [[Next.|chp6_8b_landing]]

"Will the escape of the Nomad prisoners affect the prospects of an alliance with Princess Lamahu?" you inquire. A deep sigh escapes Anu's mouth, her gaze meeting yours. For a moment, she does not speak and you note the way she purses her mouth in thought. You are beginning to wonder if Anu will offer you a truthful response, when she finally speaks. "Perhaps," Anu explains. "Princess Lamahu can be severe in her beliefs. If she thinks that you will betray our people then she will not agree to an alliance." You pause, the weight of Anu's words settling heavily against your shoulders. It is a difficult thing to know how to manage. Your companions were not in charge of the Nomad prisoners, yet their escape might affect your prospects of gaining an ally - one that is desperately needed to win the war against Virion and the Blood Guard. [[Next.|chp6_8b_landing]]

<<if $chp6_8b lt 4>>There are still more questions that linger in your mind regarding the Nomad prisoners and with Anu's attention on you, you realise that you still have an opportuinity to question her more. <<if $chp6_8b1 is false>> [["When did the Nomad prisoners escape?" you ask.|chp6_8b1][$chp6_8b +=1, $chp6_8b1 to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp6_8b2 is false>> [["How did the prisoners escape? Were they not under guard?" you question.|chp6_8b2][$chp6_8b +=2, $chp6_8b2 to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp6_8b3 is false>> [["What will happen when the prisoners are found?" you query.|chp6_8b3][$chp6_8b +=1, $chp6_8b3 to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp6_8b4 is false>> [["Will the escape of the Nomad prisoners affect the prospects of an alliance with Princess Lamahu?" you inquire.|chp6_8b4][$chp6_8b +=1, $chp6_8b4 to true]]<</if>> <<else>>You have asked Anu all that you can think of asking about the Nomad prisoners. It seems that she too has tired of the topic of conversation because she glances towards where a group of warriors stand on the other side of the courtyard. "I have to speak with the warriors before we depart later today," she explains. "I suggest that you should prepare for the journey. Princess Lamahu will expect you presentable and not covered in sweat." You do not get to respond, because Anu is already turning and making her way towards the warriors. Alone once more, you return to the temple, hoping to prepare for your trip to the city of Sangasu. [[Next.|chp6_9]]<</if>>

You remember what Lord Redall said about Lena being under guard in the temple. Despite freeing her, she has not so easily been forgiven by the others. Finding her proves to be an easy thing. Lena's room is situated in the lower floors of the temple and as you approach, you find a few Ishari warriors along with the Royal Vinian Guards standing alongside the hallway. They glance at your approach, but do not stop you from entering the room. As you enter, you find Lena slumped against a narrow bed. Since you last saw her, she has been given a new set of clothes and her hair has been brushed back neatly, despite her evident confinement. She looks up at you, raising an eyebrow. "Have you come to demand answers too?" she asks. You frown. "What do you mean?" She shrugs. "That lordling of yours thinks I had something to do with the escape of my people." <<set $chp6_10 to 0>> [["Did you have something to do with it?" you ask, staring at Lena.|chp6_10_1][$chp6_10 +=1]] [["I do not think you have something to do with this," you reassure Lena.|chp6_10_1][$chp6_10 +=2, $lena_trust +=10]] [["Where would the Nomad people go?" you question.|chp6_10_1][$chp6_10 +=3]] [["If you have something to do with this, I will make sure that you will pay for this," you warn.|chp6_10_1][$chp6_10 +=4]]

<<if $chp6_10 is 1>> "Did you have something to do with it?" you ask, staring at Lena. Lena scowls at you, her eyes narrowing in response. The question only seems to deepen the tension in the room, your skin prickling as she stares at you with a hard expression. You imagine that she must have endured the same line of questioning from Lord Redall, but whatever he tried to glean from her was unsuccessful. "You sound just like the lordling," Lena scoffs. "If I had anything to do with it then it would make the guards stationed outside my room, fools." You shake your head. "Just answer the question." Lena sighs. "Of course not. My room was guarded all night. I cannot leave without having my wrists bound and poked with the back of a spear from these Ishari warriors." <<elseif $chp6_10 is 2>> "I do not think you have something to do with this," you reassure Lena. Lena rolls her eyes, scoffing in response. Your lips pull into a frown as you regard her. It is clear that your words have not done much to win her favour, but when she regards you again, you notice a glimmer of gratitude in her grey eyes. "That makes everything better," she huffs. She casts you another look. "Even if you did believe me, the others will not." You glance at the guards outside her room. If she was this heavily guarded throughout the night then you doubt that she was able to plan an escape without being noticed. Lena follows your gaze, noticing the guards. "They still treat me as a prisoner," she remarks. "Though I suppose it is something that I must endure while I remain in the confines of the temple." <<elseif $chp6_10 is 3>> "Where would the Nomad people go?" you question. Lena raises a dark eyebrow as she looks at you. You meet her gaze, wanting answers. If the Nomad prisoners manage to cross the river and meet with the Blood Guard, you know that it will only be a matter of time before Virion realises that Prince Irus is in Ishari. A war between the nations now would be one that no one seems prepared for. "You think that I know their every movement?" Lena asks, her lips pressing into a frown. You ignore her words, pressing on. "These are people you know well. You know how they think and what they might do. Surely, you must know where they would go." Lena sighs, her shoulders sagging. "You are right. I do know them well." She hesitates, seemingly conflicted about answering you but after a moment, she shakes her head. "They will travel to Cyre. It is only a day's travel to reach the border and then, it will be a matter of time before they reach Virion." Your stomach twists uneasily, knowing that if the scouts do not locate the escaped prisoners before they reach Cyre, a war will be imminent. <<elseif $chp6_10 is 4>> "If you have something to do with this, I will make sure that you will pay for this," you warn. Lena stares at you, her lips twisting into a scowl. A moment passes where neither of you looks away. Eventually, she drags her hard gaze away from you, settling her focus on the hard floor. A scoff leaves her lips, the sound full of derision. "Do what you must," she mutters. "It matters not to me. I am no stranger to torture." She glances at you, smirking. "Or execution." There is a taunt in her voice, acidic and cruel. You stiffen, suddenly aware that despite her grin, she has been in this room, guarded heavily by those outside. Even if she had tried to help free the Nomad prisoners, she would not have been able to get far without being caught. "Where would the Nomad prisoners go?" you demand. Lena shrugs. "Even if I knew their plans, I would not speak them to you." Your fingers curl into your palms, your nails biting into your skin. Lena's smile widens when she notices your expression, her eyes full of mocking. <</if>> [[Next.|chp6_10_2]]

Whatever you had hoped to gain from speaking to Lena, it is clear that she has nothing more to say about the Nomad prisoners and their escape. A sigh leaves you, tiredness creeping along your back and settling over your head until there is nothing left but the feeling of defeat. Lena glances at you, her lips pursed as she takes in your expression. For a moment, she does not speak. You look away from her gaze, unnerved by the intensity of her frown and the way her eyes peer at your face. The silence expands between you, nearly enough to drown out your thoughts. "I heard about your mother," she murmurs. <<if $chp5_3 is 5>> Lena's words draw your attention towards her. You suddenly remember her connection to your father and it is enough to make your breath get stuck in your throat. Lena glances to the side, shrugging. "The rumours in the temple are rife," she explains. "When I discovered that Ahlf's priestess - your mother - was here, I realised that she must be your mother." There is a sneer on Lena's lips as she speaks about your mother and you cannot help but wonder if they ever met before. <<else>> Lena's words draw your attention to her. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Why would she be bringing up your mother to you? You have not spoken about it to anyone other than your companions. At your look of confusion, Lena shakes her head, glancing at her hands. "I knew Ahlf," she explains. "I didn't realise that you were his $heir until now. The rumours in the temple are rife about your relation to //Salyra//." You stiffen, overcome with what you have just discovered. Ahlf knew Lena and seems to know about your mother too. <</if>> "How are you coping with it?" Lena asks; the sincerity of her voice taking you by surprise. <<set $chp6_10_2 to 0>> [["I would rather not talk about it with you," you answer.|chp6_10_3][$chp6_10_2 +=1]] [["It has been difficult," you admit. "I have not seen her since I was a child."|chp6_10_3][$chp6_10_2 +=2]] [["I am grateful to have found her," you respond. "I have always yearned to see my mother again."|chp6_10_3][$chp6_10_2 +=3]] [["I do not wish to discuss my mother," you mutter, still bitter by her betrayal.|chp6_10_3][$chp6_10_2 +=4]] [["It has been overwhelming," you reply. "I still do not know how I feel about her."|chp6_10_3][$chp6_10_2 +=5]]

<<if $chp6_10_2 is 1>> "I would rather not talk about it with you," you answer. It is true, you realise. What you have discovered about your mother is something that will take time to understand and talking about it with a woman you barely know will not help. Lena lets out a breath, nodding in response. "I understand," she replies. Glancing at the wall across from where she sits, Lena lets out a breathy laugh. "I still do not know what Ahlf saw in her." You frown. "What do you mean?" Lena glances at you, her eyebrows furrowing as though she was trying to come uo with the words to express her thoughts. After a moment, she lets out another deep breath, running her hands over her hair. "It is nothing, $name," she explains. "Perhaps your mother will be better to answer your questions on Ahlf." <<elseif $chp6_10_2 is 2>> "It has been difficult," you admit. "I have not seen her since I was a child." Lena glances at you, a note of pity in her eyes. You look away, suddenly wanting to flee. Is that how others see you, with //pity//? The thought stabs you, pressing between your ribs before it twists sharply. You let out a breath, ragged and enough to make you lean against the wall behind you. "I am sorry, $name," Lena breathes. "I... Ahlf did not speak to me about your mother or you. I did not know about your circumstances." You look at your feet, your thoughts muddled with confusion. It has been too much, you think, suddenly overwhelmed by all that you have learnt about your mother. When you look up, your eyes finally meeting Lena's, you find her lips pressed into a frown. "Did you know my mother?" you ask. She scoffs, "Vaguely. We knew each other from the war. And then, I left and never saw or heard from Ahlf or Salyra again." <<elseif $chp6_10_2 is 3>> "I am grateful to have found her," you respond. "I have always yearned to see my mother again." A swell of hope fills you, nearly dizzying in its grasp. You have longed to see Mama again and now, you finally have her here with you. Words cannot explain the excitement, the knowledge that she is here and you are no longer alone. The years of your childhood had been empty for so long and you can only hope that you can find the love you had desperately sought for so long. "Most would be upset," Lena remarks, noting your expression. "Though time is too short to be carrying grudges." Her tone is bitter, enough to draw your attention towards her. Lena looks away from your stare, her eyes hard and her lips pressed into a thin line. She reminds you of Ahlf, you realise then. The way she stares into the distance, a coldness in her face that speaks of recalling painful memories. "What do you mean?" you ask. Lena huffs, "The war caused the deaths of many, $name. It taught me that you cannot carry the burdens of your past. There is little time to be angry at a person when you could die at any moment." A wry smile pulls at her lips. "I wish I had known that earlier." <<elseif $chp6_10_2 is 4>> "I do not wish to discuss my mother," you mutter, still bitter by her betrayal. A well of rage sits in the pit of your stomach. The heat of it, the anger of your mother's actions is enough to lace your tongue with poison and fill you with hatred. Speaking about your mother only brings back the memories of her betrayal. How long had she been in Ishari and why had she never come back for you? Lena glances at you, nodding. "I see she is still capable of drawing the ire of others." Your eyebrows furrow. "What do you mean?" A bark of laughter escapes Lena's lips. "Your mother caused us a lot of problems in the early days of the war. She even earned the ire of Ahlf at some point." "What do you know about them?" you ask, suddenly desperate for answers. Lena shakes her head. "I know as little as you do, $name. I cannot speak on what happened between your parents." <<elseif $chp6_10_2 is 5>> "It has been overwhelming," you reply. "I still do not know how I feel about her." Your thoughts tumble and twist in your mind, the weight of your conflicting emotions enough to leave you feeling drained. You do not know what to think or feel about your mother's reappearance. It has been two decades since you last saw her and the memories of her from your childhood is nothing like the woman you saw last night. "That is understandable," Lena murmurs. "Even those who share blood can become strangers in an instant." You glance at Lena, her words bitter and her eyes distant. She reminds you of Ahlf, you realise. There is a hollowness in her expression, one that speaks of memories from a painful time in her life. "You seem like you are speaking from experience," you reply. Lena glances at you, her expression pinched. "Perhaps. But I am not here to speak about my past, $name." <</if>> [[Next.|chp6_10_4]]

A cough from one of the guards interrupts your conversation with Lena. You realise that you have spent far too much time already. If you are to leave at midday for the city of Sangasu, you will only have a few hours to prepare for your journey and meeting with Princess Lamahu. You look at Lena and she seems to sense your thoughts. "Leave me be. I am certain there are others you could be bothering." Nodding in response, you turn away from Lena and make your way out of her room. The heat in the hallway is thick, the guards shifting to let you pass as you make your way towards the small room in a floor above Lena's. As you approach your room, you find a familiar face, the woman you never thought you would see again. It is your mother. [[Next.|chp6_11]]

You stop, your steps faltering as your eyes land on your mother. Your feelings, a tumultuous thing, swirls and pushes until you are frozen where you stand. Staring at your mother, her dark hair hanging over her shoulders and her eyes like the embers of a flame on you makes you pause. This is the woman you yearned for as a child, a woman who has a new family. She turns to you, her eyes softening as she takes in your appearance. Your thoughts rush back, the memories of your childhood, unbidden as they invoke the feelings of your past. "$name," she breathes. "Sweetling." <<set $chp6_11 to 0>> [["Do not call me that," you spit.|chp6_12][$chp6_11 +=1]] [["Mama," you whisper, rushing into her embrace.|chp6_12][$chp6_11 +=2]] [[You stiffen at her words, uncertain how to feel.|chp6_12][$chp6_11 +=3]] [["I am not your Sweetling," you mutter.|chp6_12][$chp6_11 +=4]] [["Should you not be calling Rana that?" you demand.|chp6_12][$chp6_11 +=5]]

<<if $chp6_11 is 1>> "Do not call me that," you spit. The vehemence in your tone comes out sharp and cold, enough to cause your mother to stare at you with wide eyes. Her expression only serves to make you angrier. Your rage fills you with heat, the burning sensation beneath your skin struggling to spill out like the flames of destruction. "$name," she breathes. "I know that much time has passed between us, but we must talk." You scoff. "Talk? I do not have time to talk with you. There are bigger issues to resolve." Pushing past her, you open the door to your room. In an instant, you know that someone has been inside. The jade chest that Ahlf gave you when you fled Salt Bay, sits atop your bed. Your eyes narrow and you whirl around to face your mother. <<elseif $chp6_11 is 2>> "Mama," you whisper, rushing into her embrace. There is sorrow and yearning, but most of all, it is relief that fills you when you finally embrace your mother. Her arms are warm, her skin soft as she encloses you into her chest. You breathe in the soft scent of the perfumed oils in her hair and sag into the tight grip of her hold. "Oh my Sweetling," she breathes, gripping you tighter. "I have missed holding you like this." You eventually pull away, your eyes burning with emotion and your heart thudding loudly beneath your chest. For most of your childhood, you spent it wondering where Mama was and now that she is finally here, solid and //alive//, you know that there many questions to be answered. Noticing your expression, your mother smiles, her fingers smoothing your tunic. "There is a lot that we must discuss." You nod, leading her into your room. As you push the door open, you notice the jade chest that Ahlf gave you, resting atop the bed. In an instant, you know that someone has been in your room. Your eyebrows furrow and you turn to look at your mother, your eyes questioning. <<elseif $chp6_11 is 3>> You stiffen at her words, uncertain how to feel. There is a tightness in your chest when you try to breathe and willing your legs to move proves to be a futile task. You stare at your mother, the woman who left you as a child all those years ago. She is older, her clothes finer and her posture straighter. She is nothing at all like the woman you remember and yet, as her eyes take in your expression, the softness of her smile is the same as you remembered as a child. The thought sears itself into your mind and you avert your gaze, gasping for breath. "We need to talk, $name," she breathes. "There is much that has happened in our time apart." You cannot think or form words. Numbly, you head towards your room, pushing the door open. As you enter the room, you notice the jade chest that Ahlf gave you sitting on the bed. Instantly, you know that someone has been in your room. Your stomach twists and you turn to face your mother, your eyebrows furrowed. <<elseif $chp6_11 is 4>> "I am not your Sweetling," you mutter. You had meant your words to come out cutting, intending on hurting her as much as she has hurt you. Instead, your voice comes out hollow, a drained sound that makes you grimace. Your mother's eyes soften, her lips pulling into a frown. "You will always be my Sweetling, $name," she responds. She reaches out for you then stops, letting her hand fall to her side. "I know that much has happened since I left you with your father-" A bark of laughter escapes you, cold and furious. How dare she pretend as if what you went through in Salt Bay was anything she could even begin to understand? You glare at your mother, your fingers curling into fists at your sides. "You do not know anything," you hiss. Your mother frowns. "Please, $name. Let us discuss this." Grunting, you turn towards your room, pushing the door open. As you enter, you notice the jade chest on your bed. In an instant, you know that someone has been inside your room. A scowl settles on your face as you turn to glare at your mother. <<elseif $chp6_11 is 5>> "Should you not be calling Rana that?" you demand. Your mother stiffens, her expression falling. A part of you takes great pleasure in watching the warring emotions flicker over her face - sorrow, regret and then, irritation. You think about Rana, the child that seems to have spent more time with your mother than you ever have. Envy, nearly as intense as your anger, fills your chest, squeezing around your throat. "You are upset," your mother murmurs. "But please, you must understand that Rana is an innocent child in all of this." You scoff, your eyes burning. "And what was I all those years ago?" A breath escapes your mother, her eyes filling with grief and pain that for a moment, you stop, stricken by her response. The last time you saw her cry, she had been carrying you to Salt Bay. Your chest tightens and you look away, unable to make sense of your feelings. "There is much to discuss, $name," your mother breathes. "Please, do not turn me away now, not when we are finally together again." You do not answer her, instead, forcing yourself towards your room. As you enter, you notice the jade chest that Ahlf gave you, sitting atop your bed. Instantly, you know that someone has been in your room. You turn towards your mother, your fingers biting into your palm. <</if>><<set $chp6_12 to 0>> [["You went through my belongings?" you demand, furious at her.|chp6_13][$chp6_12 +=1]] [["I... I do not understand," you mumble. "You went through my belongings?"|chp6_13][$chp6_12 +=2]] [["How dare you?" you yell. "You have no right to go through my belongings."|chp6_13][$chp6_12 +=3]] [["Please tell me that you have an explanation for this," you beg.|chp6_13][$chp6_12 +=4]] [[You are silent, unable to voice your hurt and betrayal.|chp6_13][$chp6_12 +=5]]

<<if $chp6_12 is 1>> "You went through my belongings?" you demand, furious at her. Your mother looks down at the jade chest before her eyes meet yours. Anger and betrayal fills you, until you are certain that you will combust in a rage. Your mother presses her lips together, taking in your expression with a calm acceptance that only aggravates you further. "Say something," you spit. "Why would you go through my things?" "I... I thought that you would be inside your room," she explains. "Forgive me, $name. I was only curious about the $gender you have become." You let out a breath in disbelief. How much more will she hurt you? Your run your hands over your face, pacing the narrow space of your room. As your eyes settle on the chest, you turn to your mother with accusation. "Did you go through the letters?" you ask. <<elseif $chp6_12 is 2>> "I... I do not understand," you mumble. "You went through my belongings?" Your mother looks away, wringing her fingers as she stares at anything but you. A frown pulls at your lips and you glance at the jade chest. The letters within them were your father's and you do not think that he had ever meant for them to be read by anyone other than you. "I am sorry, $name," your mother apologises. "I thought you would be in your room and became curious when I saw your belongings. I only wanted to learn more about the $gender you have become." You glance at your mother, her voice sincere and her eyes remorseful. A breath escapes you, your shoulders sagging. It is becoming evident that neither of you know how to cope with being in each other's lives again. As you gaze at the jade chest once more, a sudden thought strikes you. You turn towards your mother, your eyebrows furrowing. "Did you read the letters?" you ask. <<elseif $chp6_12 is 3>> "How dare you?" you yell. "You have no right to go through my belongings." Your voice drowns out the rush of blood in your ears, deafening as it swallows the room with your rage. As you stare at your mother, you find that her eyes are wide and her lips pressed into a thin line. Beneath her shock, there is frustration. You nearly laugh at the absurdity of it. "I came looking for you," she explains. "But you were not here and-" "And you thought it gave you permission to go through my things?" you demand. "The chest is mine, not yours." "It was Ahlf's," she breathes, glancing away. "I was only curious about the $gender you have become." You shake your head, turning to look at the jade chest. It is full of letters and other notes that your father kept hidden for years until his death. You swallow, looking at your mother with a glare. "Did you go through the letters?" you demand. <<elseif $chp6_12 is 4>> "Please tell me that you have an explanation for this," you beg. There is a note of desperation in your voice, a piercing sound that seems to rattle your mother. She stares at you, her eyes wide with sorrow and remorse as she takes in your expression. After everything that has happened, you do not think that you will be able to accept her betrayal of your trust like this. "I am sorry, $name," she murmurs. "I had only... you were not here when I came to find you. I was only hoping to learn more about the $gender you have become." You look away. Her words are sincere and her expression soft, yet you cannot bring yourself to meet her gaze. The jade chest had been the last thing you had to remind you of your father and the life that you shared with him in Salt Bay. Having your mother go through something of yours without asking leaves you uncertain how to respond. As you glance at the jade chest, you remember the letters stored within. You turn to your mother, frowning at the thoughts that fill you. "Did you read the letters?" you question. <<elseif $chp6_12 is 5>> You are silent, unable to voice your hurt and betrayal. Pain and anger fill you, the warring emotions twisting inside you until you are uncertain which is stronger. When you glance at your mother, you note the way her eyes soften with remorse and the apologetic smile she casts you. A breath escapes you, her expression only seeming to slip past your ribs like jagged-edged blade. There is a chasm between you and your mother, you realise. Neither of you are truly the same as you had been and by the way your mother looks at you, you cannot tell if she realises how estranged you have become from each other. "I am sorry, $name," your mother speaks, her words piercing the silence. "I came to speak with you and you were not here. I... I was only curious about the $gender you have become." You frown. "So you went through my things?" She looks away from your pointed stare, wringing her hands. A moment passes and still, your mother does not respond. You want to scream at her, to yell and rage until she finally acknowledges your question. But as the silence deepens, you realise with bitter disappointment that the answers you seek will remain unanswered. You glance at the jade chest, your stomach twisting suddenly at the prospect of your mother reading the letters that Ahlf had stored within. "Did you read the letters?" you ask, glancing at your mother. <</if>> [[Next.|chp6_14]]

Your question seems to take your mother aback, because she is suddenly peering at the jade chest with a frown. You study her expression, noting the way her eyes flicker with sorrow and anger all at once. "A few," she admits. She does not elaborate on what she has read and from the way she presses into herself, you do not think that your mother will be very forthcoming with the truth today. Your mother glances at you, her eyes questioning. <<if $locket_wear is true>> "You... that locket around your neck," she murmurs. "It is nearly identical to the one I had when I was younger. Where did you get it?" <<elseif $locket_wear is false>> "I... there was a locket inside the chest," she murmurs. "I swear that it is the same as the one I had when I was younger. But I do not understand how you would have it." <</if>> It hits you then that your familiy in Vinia have knowledge of your mother's life here in Ishari. When you spent your time with them, none seemed to know what happened to your mother. It seems that you were not the only one who has lost much time with the woman you never thought you would see again. "I got it from Ama," you answer. Your mother sags, her face crumpling. "You saw... my mother? Your grandmother? How?" "I went to Aspal," you reply. "I met them there." "How are they? How is Belahm?" she asks, her voice pleading. <<set $chp6_14 to 0>> [["They are doing well," you answer, wanting to ease your mother's pain.|chp6_15][$chp6_14 +=1]] [["Why do you not ask them yourself?" you question. "Or are you too busy with your new family here in Ishari?"|chp6_15][$chp6_14 +=2]] [["You do not deserve to know how they are doing, considering that you never contacted them," you spit.|chp6_15][$chp6_14 +=3]] [["Belahm has made a good life for himself, regardless of the suffering you have caused him," you mutter.|chp6_15][$chp6_14 +=4]] [["All this time, I had a family other than you and Ahlf," you breathe. "And you ask me how they are, after everything you have done?"|chp6_15][$chp6_14 +=5]]

<<if $chp6_14 is 1>> "They are doing well," you answer, wanting to ease your mother's pain. There is something haunting in seeing your mother's grief. She has not seen or spoken to her family in years and you know the absence must have weighed heavily in the years that have passed. Your mother smiles at you, a weak expression that is meant to soothe you, but only serves to expose her own sorrow. "They own a small store in the bazaar," you explain. "And Belahm is married to a woman named Yara. They... they have a son and are expecting another child." Your mother's eyes become watery as she takes in your words. Sniffling, hastily wipes at her eyes and clears her throat. When she speaks, her voice is croaky, as if she is fighting the urge to weep. "I am grateful," she breathes. "They deserve peace after everything that has happened. Thank you for bringing me news of them, $name." <<elseif $chp6_14 is 2>> "Why do you not ask them yourself?" you question. "Or are you too busy with your new family here in Ishari?" The accusation in your voice does not go unnoticed by your mother. She cowers from you, as though your words have stung her. You narrow your eyes at your mother, wanting her to face the pain she has caused to so many around her. How long was she expecting to continue a life without contacting you or your family in Vinia? "That is not fair," she breathes. "You do not understand the sacrifices that had to be made to ensure their safety - to ensure //your// safety." You laugh, a cruel sound. "You are talking about fairness to me? Where were you when you robbed me of a childhood with a family that would accept me?" Your mother shakes her head. "You were with your family. Your father-" "Do not speak about him," you hiss. "You tell me that I do not understand your circumstances, but you do not even know what I had to endure." <<elseif $chp6_14 is 3>> "You do not deserve to know how they are doing, considering that you never contacted them," you spit. The rage you feel is insurmountable, so thick and hot that it threatens to boil your insides. You turn away from your mother, unable to look at her for any longer. Has she no knowledge of the suffering she has caused to the family she watched leave Ishari? You want to yell at her, to punch at the walls until your fingers are bloodied, but you can only rage in silence, unwilling to give your mother the satisfaction of seeing your pain. "$name," she breathes. "Please. It has been so long since I have seen Belahm. I... at least tell me that they are well." You huff, "They are well, no thanks to you." Your words seem to sting your mother and she recoils, turning away from your glower. What more does she expect from you? Have you not already been through enough without having to assuage her own worries? You let out a strangled breath, suddenly drained. <<elseif $chp6_14 is 4>> "Belahm has made a good life for himself, regardless of the suffering you have caused him," you mutter. Your words are laced with bitterness, the despair and rage giving way to a hollowed out numbness. As you gaze at your mother, you watch as she swipes at her tears, unable to meet your gaze. It is as if you are looking upon a stranger and not the woman you remembered as a child and the thought only acts as a catalyst for the emptiness in your chest. "That is good to know," she breathes, her smile pained. "He deserves to be happy, after everything." You stare at your mother. Her voice is sincere and yet, even though you note the pain in her expression and the tears in her eyes, you cannot find it in yourself to feel any sympathy for her. The pain she is feeling is due to her own actions, the consequence of abandoning her family and you. <<elseif $chp6_14 is 5>> "All this time, I had a family other than you and Ahlf," you breathe. "And you ask me how they are, after everything you have done?" Your mother looks stricken, her eyes wide as she struggles to respond. A gasp escapes your throat, the breath you had been holding inm finally escaping as the realisation of your mother's actions finally dawn on you. You entire childhood could have been one that had been filled with a loving family. "It was never supposed to be this way, $name," your mother replies. "I never intended to keep you away from your Ama and Belahm." "But you did," you respond. "You abandoned me. You abandoned Ama and Belahm." Your mother looks away, her face falling. She presses her fingers against her lips, as if to keep her voice from escaping and you let out a breath, suddenly tired and wanting nothing more than to forget any of this ever happened. <</if>> [[Next.|chp6_16]]

For a moment, you do not speak. There is so much swirling in your mind, the thoughts and questions that you have for your mother going unspoken. Your mother glances at you, her fingers twisting into the material of her robes and you are suddenly afflicted with the thought that she has an entirely new life here in Ishari. "There are questions you must have for me," your mother breathes. "Ask them, $name and I will answer them." This is your opportunity to learn more about your mother's life, since you last saw her in Salt Bay. Perhaps, you will even get answers on her new family too. <<set $chp6_16 to 0>><<set $chp6_16a to false>><<set $chp6_16b to false>><<set $chp6_16c to false>><<set $chp6_16d to false>><<set $chp6_16e to false>> [["What happened after you left me in Salt Bay?" you ask.|chp6_16a][$chp6_16 +=1, $chp6_16a to true]] [["Why did you never come back for me?" you query.|chp6_16b][$chp6_16 +=1, $chp6_16b to true]] [["You started a new family without me," you breathe. "How could you?"|chp6_16c][$chp6_16 +=1, $chp6_16c to true]] [["Have you been in Ishari all these years?" you question.|chp6_16d][$chp6_16 +=1, $chp6_16d to true]] [["Why did you not write to me to tell me that you were alive?" you demand.|chp6_16e][$chp6_16 +=1, $chp6_16e to true]]

"What happened after you left me in Salt Bay?" you ask. Your mother lets out a breath, looking away from your gaze. She does not speak for a moment, letting the weight of your question weigh heavily over you. As she stands across from you, her fingers playing with the material of her robes, you wonder if she will ever answer you. "You told me that you would answer my questions," you implore. Glancing at you, your mother nods. "Yes. I did tell you that." Another breath escapes her, this one slow and long. "After we fled from Ishari, I left you with your father. The Blood Guard were following us, $name. I could not remain with you. It was me that they were after so I led them towards the forest just beyond Salt Bay." She pauses, glancing at you. You try to make sense of her words, but you still do not know what happened to your mother after she left. Perhaps sensing your confusion, your mother speaks once more. "I... I am one of the few who have been blessed with the divine powers of Ehulla," your mother explains. "It was easy enough to get rid of the few of the Blood Guards who found me after I left but Erlan had sent more than I could deal with. They nearly captured me, $name. So I fled. I knew if I remained close to you, Erlan would eventually find you." [[Next.|chp6_16_landing]]

"Why did you never come back for me?" you query. Your mother lets out a strangled sound, nearly a sob as she gazes at you. There is pain and sorrow in her eyes, a look of someone filled with remorse. As you take in the sincerity of her expression, you find yourself thinking about the years you spent in Salt Bay with Ahlf. You have gone two decades without your mother and whatever her reasons are, you will have time to understand if it is enough for you to accept. "I wanted to, $name," she gasps. "I... I tried, but it was dangerous. When I fled Ishari, I had nothing but you. And then, I did not have you. Evading the Blood Guard proved more difficult than I could cope with. I... boarded a merchant barge and travelled under the guise of a refugee for a time. When I eventually found my way back to Ishari, Erlan had enough of his soldiers looking for me. If I returned to you then, he would have surely found you and your father." "What about afterwards?" you ask, your throat tight. "You could have returned when I was older." She shakes her head. "It is not so easy, $name. I... I have done much to earn Erlan's ire. He wanted me dead and he would do anything to make me suffer, even hurting you." [[Next.|chp6_16_landing]]

"You started a new family without me," you breathe. "How could you?" Your mother shakes her head, reaching out for you before thinking better of the action. Instead, her hands grip at each other as she stares at you, her eyebrows furrowed and her lips pulled into a frown. "I never planned for it to happen, $name," she replies. "Please, $name. You must believe me. I could never replace you." "You have a daughter and a what? A husband?" you ask. Visibly trembling, your mother averts her gaze. You stare at her, willing her to face you as she answers your questions, but it seems as if the weight of her actions are too much because when she answers, her voice is small and broken. "Danzor was a warrior once," she murmurs. "And a good friend. We knew each other as children and when we found each other in Ishari, he was there for me, $name, when others were not. We never planned to find love with each other, but it happened and then, Rana was here." "What about me?" you ask, your eyes burning. "You are my $heir," she replies, finally looking at you. "You will //always// be my $heir." You are quiet, unable to respond. [[Next.|chp6_16_landing]]

"Have you been in Ishari all these years?" you question. <<if $chp6_16b is true>> Your mother smooths her hand over her dark hair, her eyes shifting away from you. Despite knowing that she travelled as refugee for some time, you know that there are still details that she has not explained to you. How long has she been in Ishari? <<elseif $chp6_16b is false>> Your mother swallows, her breathing sharp as she looks away from your gaze. You do not know where she has been all this time or what she has been doing. Was there really a reason for her not coming back for you all those years ago? <</if>> "It has been a little over fifteen years," she explains. "I... I could not remain in one place for too long. When I returned to Ishari, everyone I knew was gone and the only place that would take me was the one place I promised to leave behind." "What are you talking about?" you ask. A flicker of sadness passes through your mother's eyes. "The Temple of Ehulla. When you were still barely walking, we lived here, $name. You used to play with the idols and the High Priestess then doted on you like you were her own." You shake your head, confused. Why do you not remember this? "We had to leave," your mother murmurs. "The others were not so forgiving of my relationship with your father and they thought of you as only as the child of the General of the Blood Guard. We left and lived on our own for a while. I told myself that I would never return here, but it seems that fate brought me back." [[Next.|chp6_16_landing]]

"Why did you not write to me to tell me that you were alive?" you demand. Your mother's eyes widen in surprise, her lips parting. She stares at you, confusion and hurt flashing through her eyes. The only sound comes from the distant chatter of voices down the hallway. Your heartbeat thuds painfully in your chest, your palms sweaty and your breathing ragged. "I... I wrote to you many times, $name," your mother breathes. "Your father, he wrote back to me. I thought..." She pauses, glancing at the jade chest. Before you can respond, she is suddenly opening the lid of the chest. You let out a shout, watching as she rifles through the letters and notes, her movements frantic. "This cannot be..." she gasps. "I sent him letters and he responded to them." You stare at your mother as confusion and sadness war inside you. Your fingers itch to reach out for something, anything to grab onto, but they remain curled tightly into fists. "He told me that it would be better if you remained with him," she explains. "That you did not... that it would good for you to stay with him." "He never told me about your letters," you reply. "I never knew about them." Your mother frowns, running her hands through her hair. Her expression twists, pain and anger flashing through her eyes. You do not know how to feel. It is nearly too much to take in, too much to understand in such a short time. Your mother stands, her fingers curled at her sides. [[Next.|chp6_16_landing]]

<<if $chp6_16 lt 5>>You have much more to ask your mother and stealing a glance at her face tells you that she is willing to answer you. Swallowing a breath, you turn to face your mother. <<if $chp6_16a is false>> [["What happened after you left me in Salt Bay?" you ask.|chp6_16a][$chp6_16 +=1, $chp6_16a to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp6_16b is false>> [["Why did you never come back for me?"|chp6_16b][$chp6_16 +=1, $chp6_16b to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp6_16c is false>> [["You started a new family without me," you breathe. "How could you?"|chp6_16c][$chp6_16 +=1, $chp6_16c to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp6_16d is false>> [["Have you been in Ishari all these years?" you question.|chp6_16d][$chp6_16 +=1, $chp6_16d to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp6_16e is false>> [["Why did you not write to me to tell me that you were alive?" you demand.|chp6_16e][$chp6_16 +=1, $chp6_16e to true]]<</if>> <<elseif $chp6_16 is 5>>You have asked your mother the most pressing of your questions. It is still difficult to make sense of what you have learnt about your mother and now, Ahlf's actions. Why did your father keep the letters your mother sent to himself and why did he tell your mother that it would have been better for you to remain with him? "$name," your mother calls, drawing your attention. Looking towards her, towards the woman who left you all those years ago, you can only think of her as... <<set $mama to "unknown">><<set $chp6_16landing to 0>> [[...your Mama.|chp6_17][$mama to "Mama", $chp6_16landing +=1]] [[...your mother, Salyra.|chp6_17][$mama to "Salyra", $chp6_16landing +=2]]<</if>>

<<if $chp6_16landing is 1>>No matter what has happened between the two of you, you can not stop thinking of Mama as who she is and who she has always been to you. She is your mother, the only parent you have left. To consider her as anything else would be a difficult task to accomplish, not when your entire childhood was spent wondering about her fate. <<elseif $chp6_16landing is 2>>The woman before you used to be //Mama// but now, all you see is a woman who left you with Ahlf. You cannot reconcile your past memories of your mother with the woman who stands before you now. She is your mother, but calling her anything but Salyra would be a lie you cannot maintain. <</if>> "I... I want us to be a family again," your mother breathes. "I know that a lot has happened, but you are my $heir and no matter what has happened, I will always love you." You gaze at your mother, your emotions conflicting and twisting inside you. There are so many things that you want to say, so much that is still unanswered, yet as you gaze at your mother, you know that she is asking to be a part of your life again. <<set $chp6_17 to 0>><<set $salyra_rel to 0>> [["I love you too," you breathe. "And I want us to have a relationship as we once did."|chp6_18][$salyraRel +=10, $chp6_17 +=1, $salyra_rel +=1 ]] [["You are my mother and perhaps, I needed you once," you respond. "But not now. I do not need you anymore, not when I am no longer a child."|chp6_18][$chp6_17 +=2, $salyra_rel +=2]] [["No," you spit. "After everything that I have learnt about you, I want nothing more to do with you."|chp6_18][$salyra_rel +=3, $salyraRel -=10, $chp6_17 +=3]] [["I need time," you breathe, overwhelmed by what you know. "You need to give me time to make sense of everything before I can answer you."|chp6_18][$chp6_17 +=4, $salyra_rel +=4]]

<<if $chp6_17 is 1>> "I love you too," you breathe. "And I want us to have a relationship as we once did." Your mother's lips pull into a smile and suddenly she is embracing you. Her arms tighten around your shoulder, her body trembling as she sniffles. A breath escapes you and then, you are holding her back, suddenly yearning for the years that you lost from being apart for so long. It is difficult not to cling to your mother in such a moment; your chest feels tight, the edges of your vision blurring in grief at not having seen her face or to feel her touch again after all these years. You cannot stop the tears that prickle at the corners of your eyes, wanting nothing more for this moment to last for eternity. "Oh my Sweetling," she breathes, smoothing her hand over your face. "I am so grateful to have you back." <<elseif $chp6_17 is 2>> "You are my mother and perhaps, I needed you once," you respond. "But not now. I do not need you anymore, not when I am no longer a child." The words taste like ash in your mouth, your throat tightening as your mother's eyes fill with unshed tears. But you cannot take back your words, not when they have been truthful. When you were a child, all you longed for was a life where you would have been accepted. For a long time, you imagined that life would have been with $mama. But as you gaze at her, the weight of your words finally sinking in, you know that the woman before you is not the woman you once knew. A breath escapes your mother, the only sound she manages to conjure. The silence between you is heavy, neither of you willing to break it, or perhaps, afraid to. Your mother does not cry, despite her watery gaze. Instead, she looks away, as if to compose herself from your rejection of her request. You do not need her and perhaps, in some ways, you never truly did. "I see," she breathes. There is something bitter, something sharp, in her tone. It is as though she has been struck with lightning from above, the pain searing across her face, her eyes glistening. She takes in a shaky breath, and another, each one more shallow than the last. You do not let yourself be moved by her emotions, you cannot. As much as she is your family, you have made your decision and you cannot allow yourself to accept her in your life as your mother. <<elseif $chp6_17 is 3>> "No," you spit. "After everything that I have learnt about you, I want nothing more to do with you." Your voice is sharp, a cutting thing that stabs at your mother's composed facade. Beneath your chest, your heart pounds until the sound is deafening. You cannot breathe, not when it feels as if all the air has been swallowed by a beast who takes and takes. Rage, like a swirling mass of vipers, bite at your insides. Your mother is someone that you can never forgive, no matter what her reasons are. "$name," she begs, her voice cracking. "Please. You cannot mean that. We have only just found each other." Incredulity fills you at her words. Has she not been listening to you? Your fury is hot, boiling under your skin and your fingers press into your palms at your sides. You want nothing to do with this woman, the one person who was supposed to protect you and instead, chose to abandon you and start a new family. "Did you not understand me?" you demand. "I said I want nothing to do with you. You might think that you are my mother, but I do not. I //hate// you." $mama gasps, her eyes widening in response. She presses her fingers over her lips, her fingers trembling as she blinks back tears. You scoff in response, unable to feel anything but anger and hurt. Turning away, you stare at the jade chest. In some ways, it seems that Ahlf had been the only parent that ever cared about you. The thought makes you smile bitterly. Perhaps you are cursed, for the parents you were granted were nothing like the kind you needed. <<elseif $chp6_17 is 4>> "I need time," you breathe, overwhelmed by what you know. "You need to give me time to make sense of everything before I can answer you." A breath escapes you, the tiredness of having to cope with your mother's words enough to make your head throb. She might be your mother, but she has also started a new family without you. It is clear that there is much more that you do not know about her life. There is too much to comprehend, from your mother's actions to Ahlf keeping her letters from you. Stealing a glance at the jade box, you wonder why you never found anything from your mother from the time she claims to have sent it. Did Ahlf even reply to the letters or had they been delivered to someone else? You do not know what to think and you cannot bring yourself to answer your mother now. "I understand," $mama whispers. She glances at you, her eyes hopeful. "I know that it is a lot, $name. But, I am here if you need me." You nod, unable to bring yourself to voice your thoughts. There is a swirling mass within you, dark and and filled rage and then, hopeful that perhaps you might be able to reconcile with your mother. But now is not that time and perhaps, there will never be a good enough time to deal with your mother's actions. <</if>> [[Next.|chp6_19]]

$mama looks at you, her breath shaky as she gazes at you, as if trying to memorise your features.<<if $chp6_17 is 1>> You meet her gaze, a smile tugging at your lips and you let out a small breath when $mama returns it.<<elseif $chp6_17 is 2>> You look away, unable to maintain her gaze. There is too much expectation in her expression for something more than you are willing to give.<<elseif $chp6_17 is 3>> You scoff, glaring at her. Her attention is unwanted and it is time that she starts realising it.<<elseif $chp6_17 is 4>> You do not know how to feel about $mama and the way that she looks at you. Her gaze is filled with hope, perhaps expecting your response to change later, but you are still uncertain about what you will decide when the time comes.<</if>> "There is also something else that I would like to discuss with you," you mother breathes. "It is about Danzor and Rana." You tense at the mention of her new family. $mama notices and offers you a placating smile. "Danzor would like to meet you, if you are willing," she explains. "I have told him much about you in the years that have passed and he is interested in knowing the person that you are. Rana is your sister, $name. It would be good for her to know you." <<set $chp6_19 to 0>><<set $rana_rel to false>><<set $danzor_rel to false>> [["No," you hiss. "I want nothing more to do with your family."|chp6_20][$chp6_19 +=1, $salyraRel -=10]] [["I am willing to meet with Danzor and Rana," you respond, agreeing.|chp6_20][$chp6_19 +=2, $danzor_rel to true, $rana_rel to true]] [["I am willing to speak to Rana," you reply. "But I want nothing to do with Danzor."|chp6_20][$chp6_19 +=3, $rana_rel to false]] [["I will speak to Danzor," you say. "But that is all. I do not wish to have a relationship with Rana or him."|chp6_20][$chp6_19 +=4, $salyraRel -=5]]

<<if $chp6_19 is 1>> "No," you hiss. "I want nothing more to do with your family." Your mother glances at you, a frown pulling at her lips. After everything that has happened, you want nothing more to do with your mother's new family. You do not know Danzor and as much as Rana is related to $mama, you do not consider her your sister. "I... I understand," your mother whispers. <<elseif $chp6_19 is 2>> "I am willing to meet with Danzor and Rana," you respond, agreeing. A breath escapes your mother's lips, as her lips pull into a small smile. Both Danzor and Rana have been with your mother for longer than you have. You can only hope that by meeting with them, you might come to understand what has happened. "That is good to hear," she breathes. <<elseif $chp6_19 is 3>> "I am willing to speak to Rana," you reply. "But I want nothing to do with Danzor." Rana shares your blood, but beyond that, she is your half-sibling. For most of your life, you have been alone. Knowing that there is someone else who shares the same mother is enough to meet with her. Danzor is not Rana, nor does he share the same blood as you. You are wary of meeting a man who started a family with your mother in Ishari and would rather keep your distance from him. "I... of course, $name," your mother responds. <<elseif $chp6_19 is 4>> "I will speak to Danzor," you say. "But that is all. I do not wish to have a relationship with Rana or him." There are many things you still do not know about Rana or Danzor. Have they known about your existence since the start of your mother's relationship with them or have they only recently learnt about your existence? Your mother might not have answered you, but perhaps they will. Regardless of what your mother might think this means, you do not intend on forming any relationship with your mother's new family. "Yes," your mother breathes. "I... understand." <</if>> You do not get a chance to respond, because a knock on the door draws your attention away. It is a priestess, a young woman who cannot be older than fifteen. She stares at your mother, almost in awe, before bowing her head. "I am sorry, High Priestess," she stammers. "I did not mean to interrupt you." $mama waves her hand, smiling kindly at the young priestess. "It is alright. Was there something you needed?" The priestess glances at you, before her attention returns to your mother. "I am here to call for $name. The coaches have been prepared and are ready to depart for Sangasu." A frown pulls at your mother's lips and she is suddenly looking at you. Her eyebrows are furrowed and you note a flicker of worry in her eyes. You are uncertain what to make of her expression, but something about the way she shifts her weight from one foot to the other, tells you that there is something she is hiding. "You are travelling to meet with Princess Lamahu?" your mother asks. "I thought... no. It will be alright." She glances at the priestess, another smile gracing her lips. "Thank you for informing us." The priestess nods, before hurrying away. Once more, you are alone with your mother. She glances at you, as though coming to a decision. With a nod, she gestures for you to take your leave. "It seems that you are needed elsewhere, $name," she says. "I will not keep you any longer." [[Next.|chp6_21]]

There is little time to respond to $mama's strange expression and you hurry after the young priestess, your mind still whirling with thoughts of what has happened. It feels as though it has been months since you helped free the Ishari prisoners and discovered your mother was alive, not a few hours. As you step out of the temple, you are greeted by the heat of the midday sun. It scorches your skin and you have to raise your hand to keep from being blinded by its ferocious glare. As you blink aware the brightness, you become aware of the coaches just beyond the temple courtyard. They are small things, crudely made and fastened to pair of mules. You cannot help but think that Crown might prove to be faster to travel on, but discard the thought as easily as it comes when you spy your companions just ahead. You realise with a start that you could spend more time with someone if you wanted, while travelling to Sangasu. [[You head towards Prince Irus' who stands to one side.|chp6_22a]] [[You approach Queen Elora who peers at the coaches.|chp6_22b]] [[You notice Sir Oren on his own and make your way towards him.|chp6_22c]] [[Your attention is drawn towards Anu and you step towards her.|chp6_22d]]

You begin your approach towards Prince Irus. He stands to one side of the coaches and glances up as you make your way to him.<<if $irus_lock is true>> He offers you a small smile, which causes your heartbeat to thud faster.<<else>> He offers you a nod, his eyes warming as you meet his gaze.<</if>> "$name," he greets, smiling. "Are you ready for the journey? I was worried that you might not come." He pauses, studying your expression, how voice lowering. "Is everything alright?" Thoughts about your conversation with your mother find their into your memories. It is difficult to forget everything that you have learnt about your mother's past and the letters your father seemed to keep from you. <<set $chp6_22a to 0>> [["I... I would rather not talk about it," you answer, your mind reeling.|chp6_22a1][$chp6_22a +=1]] [["I just spoke to my mother," you murmur softly.|chp6_22a1][$chp6_22a +=2]] [["My mother went through my belongings," you mutter, your anger flaring.|chp6_22a1][$chp6_22a +=3]] [[You swallow, your throat tight and your eyes prickling with tears.|chp6_22a1][$chp6_22a +=4]] <<if $irusRel gte 65>> [[You sag into Prince Irus' chest, seeking the comfort of his embrace.|chp6_22a1][$chp6_22a +=5]]<</if>>

Queen Elora stands off to one side, inspecting the coaches with interest. Your eyebrows furrow as you make your way to her side, though, as you near, you realise that her attention is not on the wheels of the coach but the warriors who stand just beyond the retinue of coaches. "$name," she says, noticing you. "Forgive me, I was lost in my thoughts." You cast her a questioning look. "What were you looking at?" She lowers her voice, turning to you. Her dark hair has been brushed so that the curls hang loosely around her face. She has dressed in an elaborate dress and the material is lined with golden thread, shimmering under the sunlight. "It was nothing," she answers. Her eyebrows furrow as she peers at you closely. "What happened?" Memories of $mama and your conversation with her comes rushing back. You cannot make sense of what to think or feel about what you discovered, not only about her actions but of the actions of your father as well. <<set $chp6_22b to 0>> [["It is nothing," you breathe, not wanting to speak about your mother.|chp6_22b1][$chp6_22b +=1]] [["I... I spoke with my mother," you explain.|chp6_22b1][$chp6_22b +=2]] [["My mother has proven to be untrustworthy," you huff. "She went through my belongings."|chp6_22b1][$chp6_22b +=3]] [[You gasp, a sob escaping past your lips.|chp6_22b1][$chp6_22b +=4]] <<if $eloraRel gte 65>> [[You press your face into Queen Elora's shoulder, desperate for comfort.|chp6_22b1][$chp6_22b +=5]]<</if>>

Sir Oren stands to one side of the temple courtyard as you approach him. He stands alone, wearing dark armour with gold embellishments that remind you of his attire from the banquet in Vinia. At his hip, you note the hilt of his blade, sheathed though close enough to be drawn at any sign of danger. As you draw closer to Sir Oren, he turns, noticing you. His hazel eyes warm slightly and a smile pulls at the corners of his lips. "$name," he greets, waving you over. "Today will be a long journey, but I am hopeful that by the end of it, we will come away with an ally at our side." You nod in response, reminding yourself of what is important. Yet, as you try to push the thoughts of your conversation with $mama away, you find that you cannot. You do not know what to make of your mother's words or that your father had kept her letters hidden from you. Sir Oren must notice your tumultuous feelings in your expression because his eyebrows furrow as he regards you carefully. "Are you alright? Perhaps you need a rest after everything that has happened." <<set $chp6_22c to 0>> [["You are right. I must be tired," you sigh, not wanting to discuss what you have learnt.|chp6_22c1][$chp6_22c +=1]] [["It is not that," you breathe. "I... I spoke to my mother earlier."|chp6_22c1][$chp6_22c +=2]] [["I found my mother going through my belongings," you mutter, your fingers curling into fists.|chp6_22c1][$chp6_22c +=3]] [[You cannot speak for the pressure in your throat is too much as tears gather in your eyes.|chp6_22c1][$chp6_22c +=4]] <<if $orenRel gte 65>> [[In need of comfort, you reach out for Sir Oren's embrace.|chp6_22c1][$chp6_22c +=5]]<</if>>

Anu stands close to one of the coaches, her attention on the warriors who stand guard at the far side of the courtyard. You approach her, taking note of her dark, flowing robes and the gleaming gold that kisses her skin - an array of jewellery and bangles that reminds you the other priestesses. "$name," Anu says, turning towards you. "Was there something you wanted or do you enjoy sneaking around like a desert fox?" <<if $anuRel gte 55>> She grins widely when you do not respond, her voice light as laughter spills past her lips. <<else>> She frowns when you do not respond, her lips pressing. "It was a jest." <</if>> Anu does not seem to mind when you make your way towards her, standing at her side. For a moment, neither of you speak. You use the silence to take in Anu's appearance. She is dressed finely, but the strange look in her grey eyes belies the worry that she feels. "I heard about what happened earlier," she breathes. "With your mother." You stiffen, the memories of your conversation rushing back. Anu turns to look at you, her expression softening slightly. "Are you alright?" she asks. "Or do you think that you will need some time to rest?" <<set $chp6_22d to 0>> [["I am fine," you answer, not wanting to discuss what you have learnt.|chp6_22d1][$chp6_22d +=1]] [["It has been a lot," you admit. "But the alliance is important and I refuse to stand aside while my companions do what needs to be done."|chp6_22d1][$chp6_22d +=2]] [["She went through my belongings," you huff. "How could I be alright when she continues to betray my trust?"|chp6_22d1][$chp6_22d +=3]] [[You cannot speak, your throat tightening around the sound of a sob.|chp6_22d1][$chp6_22d +=4]] <<if $anuRel gte 60>> [[You let out a breath, desperate for comfort, but uncertain how to voice your thoughts.|chp6_22d1][$chp6_22d +=5]]<</if>>

<<if $chp6_22a is 1>> "I... I would rather not talk about it," you answer, your mind reeling. There is too much to think about, the thoughts and emotions swirling inside you like a mass of serpents. You cannot make sense of what you have learnt and forming it into words is an even harder task. Prince Irus frowns slightly, but he does not press you more for. "Are you certain that you want to join us on the journey?" he asks. "If you need some time to rest, I will not fault you for that." You force a smile onto your lips, shaking your head. "No. It will be good to leave the temple for a little." Prince Irus scans your face, perhaps trying to determine if you are being truthful or not. You look away, unable to maintain his gaze. A breath leaves Prince Irus and when you turn towards him, his expression is soft. "Very well," he replies. <<elseif $chp6_22a is 2>> "I just spoke to my mother," you murmur softly. <<if $salyra_rel is 1>> You are hopeful about your relationship with $mama, though you know it will still take time to mend the gap that has formed between you. It has been a lot to understand in the short time that you have learnt that your mother was alive to discovering that she has another family in Ishari. Prince Irus offers you a kind smile, his eyes softening. "How did it go?" You smile in response. "I... I think that our relationship will become better with time." He nods, glancing away for a moment. You wonder if he is thinking about his relationship with his mother, a subject you know that is painful for him. When he gazes at you once more, any signs of his thoughts are gone, replaced with a warm smile. "I am glad for you, $name," he responds. "It is admirable of you to reconcile with your mother." <<elseif $salyra_rel is 2>> You have made your decision and nothing will shake you from it, not even the pain it seemed to have caused $mama. Glancing at Prince Irus, you catch a glimmer of concern in his blue gaze and you look away. "What happened?" he asks. "She went through my things and expects me to make peace with her actions," you reply. "I have decided to end my relationship with her. She is my mother, but I am not in need of one." Prince Irus nods in response, a breath escaping past his lips. You are uncertain what to expect from him, perhaps he will berate you for not seizing the opportunity to build a relationship with the woman you have rediscovered, but instead, he offers you a small smile. "It is good to know what you want, $name," he answers. "I will not fault you for wanting nothing to do with your mother. It is a feeling I know well." <<elseif $salyra_rel is 3>> You have made your decision and nothing will shake you from it, not even the pain it seemed to have caused $mama. Glancing at Prince Irus, you catch a glimmer of concern in his blue gaze and you look away. "What happened?" he asks. "She went through my things and expects me to make peace with her actions," you reply. "I have decided to end my relationship with her. She is my mother, but I am not in need of one." Prince Irus nods in response, a breath escaping past his lips. You are uncertain what to expect from him, perhaps he will berate you for not seizing the opportunity to build a relationship with the woman you have rediscovered, but instead, he offers you a small smile. "It is good to know what you want, $name," he answers. "I will not fault you for wanting nothing to do with your mother. It is a feeling I know well." <<elseif $salyra_rel is 4>> You are still uncertain what to feel about your mother and her request for closing the distance between you. It has been too much to deal with and your thoughts seem to be endless. A tired breath escapes you and you glance at Prince Irus. "How did it go?" he asks. Lifting your shoulder in a half-shrug, you answer, "I do not know what to make of things. She is expecting me to reconcile with her but I do not know if I will." Prince Irus nods, smiling at you. "It is your decision, $name. No matter what you choose, the rest of us will support you." His words are sincere and you meet his gaze, suddenly touched by his words. You have spent so long lost in your thoughts that you had almost forgotten about the companions you have met in your journey. Prince Irus is right, no matter what you choose, you will not be alone.<</if>> <<elseif $chp6_22a is 3>> "My mother went through my belongings," you mutter, your anger flaring. Your anger burns the back of your throat, a burning fury that claws to escape. Swallowing, you look away from Prince Irus' gaze, your fingers curling into the skin of your palms at your sides. It is difficult to make sense of your mother's actions, especially when she has rifled through the jade chest your father left you. "What do you mean?" Prince Irus asks, his eyebrows furrowing. You run a hand over your face. "When I returned to my room, I found my belongings moved. She admitted to going through it in the hopes of learning about me." "I am sorry, $name," Prince Irus murmurs. "I do not know what to say, only that she should have waited to talk to you first." A sigh escapes you, the anger in your veins ebbing until it is no more than a dull ache between your ribs. Glancing at Prince Irus, you find that he is watching you with a soft gaze, a look of someone who would not betray you, no matter what. "It is alright," you answer. "Thank you for listening to my rant." He shrugs, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I am always here to listen, $name." <<elseif $chp6_22a is 4>> You swallow, your throat tight and your eyes prickling with tears. The pressure behind your eyes becomes hot and you blink, hoping to force back the burn of your tears. You gasp, your chest tight and your fingers trembling. Prince Irus' eyes widen and suddenly, he is reaching out for you. <<if $irus_lock is true>> He pulls you into his chest, his arms tightening around you. You press your face into his shoulder, feeling your eyes burning as a strangled sob escapes your mouth. His fingers smooth over your back, his hold unwavering even as you shake in his hold. "It is alright, Beloved," he breathes. "I am here." His words are enough and you finally let your tears flow. It is hard to keep your sobs in, not when Prince Irus holds you close, his touch gentle and his voice assuring. You sag into him, grateful for his strength, for you do not think that you would have been able to keep upright without his grip. When your tears finally dry, your face hot and your eyes burning, Prince Irus draws away slightly. He brushes a thumb over your cheek, his smile soft and his gaze full of affection. "What is the matter?" he asks, his hold around you warm. "Tell me, so that I may assuage your worries." You sigh, shaking your head. "It is my mother. I... it has been a lot, Irus. I do not think it will so easy to remedy." Prince Irus smirks. "Give me an opportunity and perhaps I shall prove you wrong." <<elseif $irus_lock is false>> His arms encircle you into a loose embrace, his hold comforting as you finally let your tears flow. A sob escapes you, the sound broken as you sag into Prince Irus' hold. He grips you tightly, his solid chest enough to hold you up even when your legs begin to buckle beneath your weight. "It is alright, $name," he breathes. "I am here." Your shoulders shake as the emotions that you have kept inside you is finally released. You struggle to breathe, your chest tight and your throat closing as you swallow mouthfuls of air. When you can cry no more and your eyes are swollen, you pull away from Prince Irus, swiping at your eyes. "I am sorry," you mumble. "I did not mean to-" "Do not apologise," Prince Irus interrupts, casting you a smile. "You have been through so much. Even you need to time to cope with what has happened, $name."<</if>> <<elseif $chp6_22a is 5>> You sag into Prince Irus' chest, seeking the comfort of his embrace. Prince Irus lets out a breath, but in an instant, his arms are bracing around you. His warmth seeps into you, the solidness of his chest and the strength of his arms is a grounding thing that anchors you to where you stand. <<if $irus_lock is true>> His warmth is a calming thing that washes over you until you can finally breathe again. You turn, your eyes meeting the blue depths of Prince Irus' gaze and you find his expression full of affection, a longing that you cannot bring yourself to describe for fear that you are imagining it. "What happened?" he murmurs. You sigh and Prince Irus' squeezes his arms around you, his embrace even tighter than before. It is enough, you think and you find the courage to muster up the words that you have kept inside you. "My mother," you mumble. "I... we spoke only a moment ago." He frowns, concern filling his eyes. "Are you alright? Do you wish to remain in the temple? You do not need to accompany me if it is too much, Beloved." You smile, touched by his warmth. "It will be alright. I want to go with you, perhaps it will take my mind off of things." <<elseif $irus_lock is false>> When Prince Irus' hold tightens around your shoulders, you find yourself sagging into the embrace. Everything you have learnt about your mother and Ahlf has been too much to cope with on your own and you are grateful for Prince Irus' friendship. A breath escapes you, the tightness in your chest loosening until you can breathe again. "What happened, $name?" Prince Irus asks, his eyes filled with concern. You shake your head, finally pulling yourself away from his hug. "It is my mother. I... I spoke with her a little while ago." Prince Irus frowns in concern. "You do not need to accompany me, $name. Perhaps you need to rest today?" "No," you answer. "I would rather join you and the others. Perhaps the time away from the temple will give me a moment to sort through my thoughts."<</if>> <</if>> [[Next.|chp6_22a2]]

As you turn away from Prince Irus, your eyes scanning the rest of the temple courtyard, you stiffen. The familiar fabric of your mother's robes comes into sight and to your surprise, you find that she is making her way towards you. "$name," she calls.<<if $salyraRel gte 55>> A smile pulls at her lips as she gazes at you.<<else>> There is a conflicted expression on her face as she regards you.<</if>> Prince Irus is suddenly standing at your side, his attention on $mama. There is a tightness in shoulders, his lips pressed into a thin line. Your mother in turn, inspects Prince Irus. You are uncertain what to make of her expression, as it is neither warm nor is it entirely unwelcoming. "Your Highness," she greets, her eyes scanning Prince Irus. "I did not know that you were so close to my $heir." <<if $irus_lock is true>> Prince Irus glances at you for a moment, before he returns his attention to $mama. A smile pulls at his lips, though it is nothing like the smiles he often grants you. "We are much closer than you think," he explains. "I hold $name in high esteem and I will protect $MChim from anything or anyone who would dare hurt $MChim." Your mother frowns, her gaze shifting from Prince Irus to you before realisation makes its way into her eyes. She stares at you, her eyebrows furrowing. "$name, you are courting the exiled prince?" she asks. <<elseif $irus_lock is false>> Prince Irus glances at you for a moment, before he turns to regard your mother. There is nothing unkind about his expression, but there is a glint in his blue eyes that had not been there before. "$name has helped me a great deal," he explains. "We have been through much together and I owe much to $MChim." Your mother nods, her eyes darting to you. There is a silent question in her eyes, perhaps she is uncomfortable with the notion that you and the son of King Erlan have been travelling together or that you have developed a kinship that she cannot understand. "$name, I did not realise that you and the exiled prince would be this close," she breathes.<</if>> <<set $chp6_22a2 to 0>> [["Do not call Irus that," you snap. "He is a good friend and someone who I trust."|chp6_22a3][$chp6_22a2 +=1, $salyraRel -=5, $irusRel +=5]] [["We have been through much together," you answer. "And I trust him more than anyone."|chp6_22a3][$chp6_22a2 +=2, $irusRel +=5]] <<if $locket_wear is true>> [["I do not need your approval, nor do I need anything of yours," you hiss, flinging the locket at her.|chp6_22a3][$chp6_22a2 +=3]]<</if>> <<if $irus_lock is true>> [["Yes, we are courting," you answer, glancing at Prince Irus softly.|chp6_22a3][$chp6_22a2 +=4, $irusRel +=5, $irusRom +=5]] [["What does it matter to you who I court?" you demand.|chp6_22a3][$chp6_22a2 +=5, $salyraRel -=5]]<</if>>

<<if $chp6_22a2 is 1>> "Do not call Irus that," you snap. "He is a good friend and someone who I trust." Your mother stiffens at you words, her lips pressing into a frown. For a moment, you cannot think beyond your anger. Prince Irus has proven himself to be a valuable companion and one that you have known far better than it seems you have ever known your mother. "I see," $mama responds. She gazes at you before her attentions shifts to Prince Irus. "It seems that my $heir holds you in high regard." Prince Irus nods. "The feeling is mutual." A sigh escapes your mother and she looks away for a moment. You are still uncertain why she chose to follow you out of the temple. Perhaps she thought it would be good to see you off? But the notion is laughable. From the way she is dressed and the warriors who stand behind her, you know that she is not here simply for you. "I thought that we would share a carriage to Sangasu," she explains. "Princess Lamahu is an old friend and it would best if I could talk to her before you propose an alliance." <<elseif $chp6_22a2 is 2>> "We have been through much together," you answer. "And I trust him more than anyone." A small smile pulls at the corner of Prince Irus' lips and he casts you a fond look. It is gone in a second when your mother's eyes shift to him, scrutinising his expression and the way he stands. You stiffen beside Prince Irus, uncertain if what your mother sees, pleases her or not. "Trust is good to have," she breathes.<<if $salyraRel lt 50>> "I know that now."<<else>> "You can always rely on those you trust."<</if>> Prince Irus nods in response, smiling slightly when he meets your gaze. "$name has helped me in my journey and without $MChim, I would not have come this far." Your mother nods, though she does not respond to Prince Irus' words. You do not know what to make of her being here. Had she wanted to see you off? From the way that she is dressed, her robes fine and neat, you know that there must be another reason for her coming up to you. "I thought that we could share a carriage to Sangasu," she explains. "Princess Lamahu is an old friend. It would be best if I spoke to her before you propose an alliance with her." <<elseif $chp6_22a2 is 3>> "I do not need your approval, nor do I need anything of yours," you hiss, flinging the locket at her. The necklace snaps as you pull it away from your throat, the gleaming locket sailing past the air to hit your mother in the chest. She lets out a sharp breath, her eyes wide as she takes in your anger. The warriors nearby stiffen, drawing their spears but your mother waves them away. You almost laugh at the gesture. Do you pose that much of a threat to the woman who has hurt you more than anyone ever could? Prince Irus glances at you, his eyes questioning but you do not get an opportunity to address him. "$name," $mama breathes. "This locket... it was from you grandmother. You should keep it for her." "No," you spit. "It is a reminder of you, $mama. I want nothing more to do with you." Your mother crouches, picking up the discarded locket. It hangs limply in his palm and when your mother looks at you, there is a hurt and frustration in her gaze. "I had wanted us to travel together to Sangasu," she breathes. "Perhaps we could have spoken more, but I see now how you feel about me. I am sorry, $name, but I cannot change what has happened." <<elseif $chp6_22a2 is 4>> "Yes, we are courting," you answer, glancing at Prince Irus softly. Your eyes meet the blue gaze of Prince Irus' eyes and it is difficult to look away when he smiles at you. A fluttering in your stomach begins to swirl until you are breathless and giddy, your lips lifting to return Prince Irus' smile. When you return your attention to your mother, you find that she is frowning, her gaze forlorn. "I see," she breathes. "I did not know that you were courting anyone, $name." She shakes her head. "There is so much that I do not know." "We have not seen each other in decades," you respond. "There are many things that you do not know about the person I am. But Irus has been with me from the time I left Salt Bay. He has seen me at my worst and still accepted me." //Can you not accept me too?// Your throat tightens, the silent plea in your expression enough to draw your mother's gaze to you. Something in the way you look at her seems to rattle your mother and she is suddenly looking away, her breath catching in the back of her throat. "I am grateful that he has made you happy," your mother replies, finally offering Prince Irus a small smile. "It is good that you were not alone in this." For a moment, no one speaks. The silence stretches until you notice the warriors who accompanied your mother, shifting uneasily. Your mother notices your gaze and follows it, sighing as she stands straighter. "I had hoped to share a carriage to Sangasu, $name," she murmurs. "I know Princess Lamahu well. She is an old friend and one who I intend on speaking to before you propose an alliance with her." <<elseif $chp6_22a2 is 5>> "What does it matter to you who I court?" you demand. The vehemence in your tone is sharp, the cutting edge of your voice hoarse as you stare at your mother. She flinches, her eyes widening and you suddenly become aware of the warriors who raise their spears, as if to defend your mother from your outburst. You nearly laugh, the bitter rage that has been festering beneath your skin like a swarm of wasps, threatens to erupt from your skin. Prince Irus settles a hand on your shoulder and instantly, you are looking at him, noting the concern in his gaze. All at once, the rage leaves you, until you can finally breathe once more. "You are my $heir, $name," $mama replies. She sighs. "I know that our relationship is not the best, but I do want to know more about your life." A frown pulls at your lips and you narrow your eyes at your mother. It is evident by the way she glances at Prince Irus that it is not your life that she is curious about, but the fact that you are courting the son of the man responsible for the war against Ishari. "I do not wish to share my life with you," you retort. "Regardless of what you might think." You mother lets out a sharp breath, her eyebrows furrowing as she regards you and then Prince Irus. For a moment, the three of you are shrouded in tense silence, no one daring to break it. Eventually, your mother looks away. "I will not force you then," she murmurs. "Perhaps it was foolish of me to think that we could have spoken more while travelling to Sangasu." You frown. "You are travelling to Sangasu?" She nods. "Princess Lamahu is an old friend and one whom I have been meaning to meet with. I will be accompanying your companions to meet with her." <</if>> [[Next.|chp6_22a4]]

Prince Irus frowns, his expression troubled as he regards your mother. No one mentioned that she would be joining you on your journey to Sangasu and you cannot help the niggling doubt in the back of your mind that tells you that your mother is keeping something from you. "You are coming with us?" Prince Irus asks, frowning. "I thought that we already have the support of the temple and its followers." $mama nods. "That is true, you do have our support, Your Highness. But Princess Lamahu has not been briefed about your proposed alliance. It would be best if I am the one to deliver the message to her, before you are permitted an audience with her." "Will you speak in favour of the alliance?" Prince Irus asks. Your mother sighs. "I want peace as much as you do, Your Highness. It would seem that for now, our goals have aligned." She glances at you before looking away. "I will take another carriage then. The journey will be long and it is best if we leave soon." [[Next.|chp6_22a5]]

Your mother departs, leaving you alone with Prince Irus once more. He lets out a breath, casting you a glance that is filled with an emotion that you cannot quite place. When he notices your stare, he offers you a smile. "Come, we should take our place inside the coach. We will be leaving soon," he explains. You nod, suddenly weary. Your journey to Sangasu feels nearly daunting now that you realise what is to come. [[Next.|chp6_23]]

The journey to Sangasu proves to be a long one that takes nearly half the day. As you peer through the small window, you take in the streets and the dusy gold of the ridges and hills beyond the buildings that you pass. It is hot, despite the closeness of the sea and soon, the afternoon heat becomes nearly unbearable. Sweat coats your back, clinging to your skin as the roads widen and the land flattens. The coach slows and you pick up the sounds of voices, much like the noise that follows a large city. As you take in your surroundings, your eyes can see nothing but the tall building, gleaming like the sun. It would seem that you have finally arrived in Sangasu. [[Next.|chp6_24]]

<<if $chp6_22b is 1>> "It is nothing," you breathe, not wanting to speak about your mother. Your chest tightens at the thought of your mother and the conversation you had with her. Thinking about it proves to be painful, especially after what you have learnt. Queen Elora glances at you, her eyes softening as she takes in your expression. "That is alright, $name," she murmurs. "We do not have to talk about it if you do not want to." You nod in response, smiling gratefully. Queen Elora lets her expression soften, stepping closer to where you stand. Her hand reaches out and squeezes your shoulder, the touch reassuring and gentle as she smiles at you. "You have been through much since we arrived, $name," she breathes. "It is admirable to see you fare with such bravery." Her words send a thrill of warmth through you and it is suddenly easier to breathe again. For a moment, you bask in her reassurance and the way that she gazes at you, as if you matter. It is then that you realise with a startling thought that you are not alone in this. Your companions are still with you. <<elseif $chp6_22b is 2>> "I... I spoke with my mother," you explain. <<if $salyra_rel is 1>> You have decided to begin to mend your relationship with your mother, but you know that it will be a difficult task. There is so much that you still do not know about what transpired between your parents. Queen Elora glances at you, her eyes questioning as she regards your words. "And how did it go with her?" she asks. A sharp breath escapes you, your shoulders sagging. "I decided to try to welcome her back into my life. After everything that has happened, I think it would be good for us to forge a new relationship." A strange look flickers through Queen Elora's eyes and she averts her gaze, her hands curling into her dress. You are reminded of the way Sovereign Amera spoke to Queen Elora and the strained nature of their relationship and wonder if it is the same that thing that occupies Queen Elora's thoughts now. "I am happy for you, $name," she murmurs, finally smiling. "I know it can be daunting to forge a relationship with someone you have not seen in years." <<elseif $salyra_rel is 2>> You tense, your shoulders stiffening. The conversation you had with your mother revealed more to you than you thought possible. There had been enough from her responses that you knew that a relationship with your mother would be impossible. When you turn to Queen Elora, you notice that her eyesbrows are furrowed. "What happened when you spoke?" she asks. "Did you learn more about her life?" "I learnt more than I wanted to," you respond. "She has made a new life for herself in Ishari, one that I am not a part of even if she insists that we mend our relationship." Queen Elora offers you a sympathetic smile, her eyes shifting away from you for a moment. When she speaks, her voice is nearly a whisper. "I know how difficult it can be when your mother seems like a stranger to you," she murmurs. "No one will fault you for wanting to end your relationship with her, $name, least of all, me." <<elseif $salyra_rel is 3>> You tense, your shoulders stiffening. The conversation you had with your mother revealed more to you than you thought possible. There had been enough from her responses that you knew that a relationship with your mother would be impossible. When you turn to Queen Elora, you notice that her eyesbrows are furrowed. "What happened when you spoke?" she asks. "Did you learn more about her life?" "I learnt more than I wanted to," you respond. "She has made a new life for herself in Ishari, one that I am not a part of even if she insists that we mend our relationship." Queen Elora offers you a sympathetic smile, her eyes shifting away from you for a moment. When she speaks, her voice is nearly a whisper. "I know how difficult it can be when your mother seems like a stranger to you," she murmurs. "No one will fault you for wanting to end your relationship with her, $name, least of all, me." <<elseif $salyra_rel is 4>> You are still uncertain how to feel about your mother. There has been enough information to have clouded your mind for years, yet, you know that eventually, you will need to decide if you will be mending your relationship with $mama or ending it entirely. "You seem indecisive," Queen Elora replies. A breath escapes you. "Am I so easy to read?" She shrugs, a small smile gracing her lips. "A little, yes. But I know how you must feel. When my mother returned after my father's death, there had been a distance between us that I did not think we would ever bridge." "And how did you accomplish that?" you ask. Queen Elora smiles, shaking her head. "I am not quite certain we ever did, $name. But know that whatever you choose to do, you will have my support."<</if>> <<elseif $chp6_22b is 3>> "My mother has proven to be untrustworthy," you huff. "She went through my belongings." Anger, like the poison of a snake, courses through your blood, filling you until you are certain that you will burst. Your jaw clenches, your teeth grinding against each other as the memories of your mother and her actions return. She went through the jade chest in search of what? To learn more about you? "$name," Queen Elora breathes, her eyes widening. "I did not know. I am sorry that she has betrayed your trust like that." You shake your head, some of your anger easing. A breath leaves you and with it, the tension in your limbs lessen until you are able to breathe again. Queen Elora reaches out, her hand gripping your wrist in a gentle hold. She wears a kind smile, one that helps soothe the thoughts of your mother. "I am sorry that you have gone through so much in such little time, $name," Queen Elora breathes. You sigh, a shaky breath as you cast her a thankful look. Despite your feelings about your mother, it would seem that you are not nearly as alone as you thought that you were. <<elseif $chp6_22b is 4>> You gasp, a sob escaping past your lips. The tears are unbidden as they press against the back of your eyes, burning and hot as you struggle to keep them in. Queen Elora's eyes widen and suddenly she is reaching for your wrists, her lips pressing into a frown as she gazes at you in concern. <<if $eloraRom gte 35>> "$name," she breathes, drawing you into her hold. You sag into her grip, your face pressing into her shoulder as the tears finally begin to flow down your cheeks. It is difficult to breathe when you can barely swallow a breath. Your throat constricts painfully, your ribs digging into your lungs until you are trembling and weeping into the young woman before you. Queen Elora tightens her grip around you, her arms strong despite her small stature. Slowly, she begins to smooth her fingers over the nape of your neck, a mindless pattern that serves to distract you from the agony within you. "I am here, $name," she murmurs, her hold unwavering. "I am always here for you." Her words are gentle, soothing as they wash over you. For a while, you can do nothing but cling at her, your eyes burning as your tears stain her dress. You know that you must look a spectacle to others, but Queen Elora gazes you at softly, as if all she sees is you. You eventually draw away and Queen Elora wipes your cheeks with her fingers, frowning. "What happened?" "It was my mother," you croak, your throat still raw. "It has been too much." Queen Elora smiles, her eyes on you. "I know. When it becomes too much, if you ever need a moment to simply be, know that I will be here for you." <<else>> "$name," she murmurs, reaching out to steady you. The softness of her hold, the gesture a comfort that you did not realise you craved until now causes the tears that you had been holding in to spill forth. Your face grows hot, your throat tight as a sob escapes your mouth. The sound is broken and you realise that it is because you are broken. "It will be alright," Queen Elora breathes, her hold tight on your wrists. "I am right here with you." You cry harder, loud sobs that wrack your chest and one that makes your entire body rattle with the sound. Queen Elora does not pull away from you, her hold a strong thing that keeps you from falling apart. As your chest heaves, your lungs struggling to suck in breaths, Queen Elora reaches out and presses a delicate handkerchief against your eyes. "My mother always told me that a ruler should never be without a handkerchief," she murmurs, offering you a smile. "I suppose she was right." Her words are spoken easily, as if when she looks at you, she only sees you and not the broken $gender you have become. It is enough to soothe your sorrow, the pain easing its grip around your chest until you can finally breathe again. "What happened?" she asks, when your sobs stop. You shake your head. "It was my mother. We... I learnt more about what has happened in the years that we were apart." Queen Elora nods. "I am sorry, $name. I know that you have been through much on this journey. I only hope you know that you are not alone in this. I am here for you, even if it feels like you are alone."<</if>> <<elseif $chp6_22b is 5>> You press your face into Queen Elora's shoulder, desperate for comfort. A surprised sound escapes Queen Elora, but it does not take long for her arms to snake around your back, drawing you closer until there is barely a hair's breadth between you. She hums softly, a soothing sound as she strokes the back of your neck. "It will be alright, $name," she murmurs. "I am here for you." <<if $eloraRom gte 35>> A shudder runs down your spine, the warmth of her touch enough to ease the twisting emotions in your gut. She holds you, even when your fingers must hurt her where they bite into her dress. You are grateful for her comfort, the warmth of her breath on the side of your face and the slow stroke of her fingers on your neck. "It will be alright," she repeats, casting you a soft smile. "No matter what happens, I know that you will survive this." <<else>> Her hold anchors you to this moment, easing the turbulent thoughts that fill your mind. You can barely breathe or speak, only sagging into her embrace, enjoying the soothing lull of her voice as she runs her fingers against the nape of your neck. It is enough, you realise. Queen Elora's friendship is enough to quell the emotions that fight so bitterly to rise again. "I am here for you, $name," she breathes. "No matter what happens."<</if>> When you finally disentangle from her embrace, you find Queen Elora watching you with concern. "What happened, $name?" You sigh, finally finding your voice. "I spoke to my mother a while ago. She revealed much to me." Queen Elora frowns. "I am sorry, $name. You have been enduring so much on your own. I hope you know that you do not need to carry the weight of it alone. The rest of us are here for you. //I// am here for you." <</if>> [[Next.|chp6_22b2]]

You sigh, finally turning your eyes to the rest of the temple courtyard. For a moment, you become aware of the warriors who stand close to the coaches and the rest of your companions who have gathered around. But then, the familiar fabric of your mother's robes draws your attention away and as you look up, you see her approaching you. "$name," she calls.<<if $salyraRel gte 55>> She offers you a small smile.<<else>> There is a terse expression on her face as she regards you.<</if>> Queen Elora glances at your mother, a tight smile against her lips. "You must be the High Priestess that I have heard so much about. It is a pleasure to meet you." Your mother blinks, taken aback by the politness in Queen Elora's tone, but as you gaze at the young queen, you realise that is addressing your mother in the same way she addresses courtiers in court. "Your Majesty," $mama greets, nodding slightly. "I see that you are good friends with my $heir." <<if $eloraRom gte 35 and $irus_lock is false>> Queen Elora glances at you, her dark eyes softening when her gaze meets yours. You shiver, enjoying the warmth that spreads across your skin, like liquid fire. Your mother turns to stare at you, her eyebrows furrowing as she takes in your expression. "We are very good friends indeed," Queen Elora responds. <<else>> Queen Elora glances at you, a soft smile pulling at the edges of her lips as she regards you. You cannot help but return her expression, the gentleness of her companionship is enough to warm your chest. "Yes, we are," she agrees. <</if>> Your mother shakes her head. "And are you friends with the exiled prince too?" Queen Elora arches an eyebrow, all sense of propriety gone in an instant. She smiles, a sharp thing full of teeth. "//Prince Irus// is a dear friend of mine, exiled or not," Queen Elora replies. "I would have thought that a woman of your station would understand that." Your mother smiles, something akin to anger flaring in her eyes, the sight nearly blinding. You blink, and the glow that you thought you saw is suddenly gone. She does not answer Queen Elora, instead, she turns to gaze at you. "You have an interesting selection of companions, $name," $mama says. <<set $chp6_22b2 to 0>> [["Queen Elora has been kinder to me than I deserved. She is a dear friend to me," you answer, glancing at Queen Elora with a smile.|chp6_22b3][$chp6_22b2 +=1, $eloraRel +=5]] [["You dare comment on my choice of friends?" you demand, eyes narrowing.|chp6_22b3][$chp6_22b2 +=2, $salyraRel -=5]] <<if $locket_wear is true>> [["I do not need you meddling in my life. I do not need you at all," you hiss, throwing the locket at her.|chp6_22b3][$chp6_22b2 +=3, $salyraRel -=5]]<</if>> <<if $irus_lock is false and $eloraRom gte 35>> [["Queen Elora means more to me than you will ever understand," you breathe.|chp6_22b3][$chp6_22b2 +=4, $eloraRom +=5, $eloraRel +=5]] [["I do not need your judgment over who I choose to keep close to me," you growl.|chp6_22b3][$chp6_22b2 +=5, $salyraRel -=5]]<</if>>

<<if $chp6_22b2 is 1>> "Queen Elora has been kinder to me than I deserved. She is a dear friend to me," you answer, glancing at Queen Elora with a smile. Queen Elora meets your gaze, a fond smile making its way onto her lips. For a moment, you can only bask in the warmth that floods through you, knowing that you have found someone like Queen Elora who will be there for you in difficult times. Glancing at your mother, you find that she wears an unreadable expression, her lips pressed as she glances between you and Queen Elora. You shift, uneasy under her scrutiny and uncertain if your mother finds your choice in friends acceptable or not. A moment passes in silence before your mother glances at Queen Elora. "It is kind of you to have been such a dear friend to my $heir," your mother murmurs. Queen Elora nods. "It was not simply kindness. $name has become dear to me as well. I am not only helping Prince Irus, but I want to help $name too." It is the first time that Queen Elora has voiced her motivations so openly and you are surprised and warmed by the affection in her tone when she mentions you. Regardless of what has happened in the time that you fled Salt Bay, you can no longer say that you are without friends. "That is good to know," $mama breathes, smiling slightly. "I suppose then you will be sharing a carriage together?" You frown. "What do you mean?" $mama looks away for a moment. "I am accompanying you to Sangasu. Princess Lamahu is an old friend and there are things we need to discuss before you can propose an alliance to her." <<elseif $chp6_22b2 is 2>> "You dare comment on my choice of friends?" you demand, eyes narrowing. Whatever judgment remained in your mother's eyes disappears the moment your voice cuts through the tension. Her eyes shift to you and for a moment, there is a flicker of regret in $mama's expression but it does not last long. "I am only curious," she responds. "I do not know much about the people you spend your time with." "And whose fault is that?" you ask. Your mother flinches, her eyes widening at your words. Fury spreads through your blood, the heat like the searing flames of fire. It is so hot, so painful that you fear that it might burst forth from your skin, destroying everything in its wake. "$name is a good friend," Queen Elora interrupts, her eyes concerned as she glances at you. "Without $name, I do not think that Prince Irus would have come this far, or if I would have either." The tension mounting at the back of your neck suddenly eases and you let out a breath, sagging. Queen Elora offers you a kind smile, one that makes it hard to remember your rage even as your mother purses her lips at Queen Elora's words. "I see that Her Majesty means a lot to you," $mama responds, finally meeting your eyes. "I will not ask to share your carriage then." Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. "What are you talking about?" Your mother gestures towards the retinue of coaches; her eyes slipping over the warriors who stand guard on the other side of the temple courtyard before she returns her attention to you. "Princess Lamahu is an old friend of mine," she answers. "I thought that it would be good to join you to Sangasu. There are things that I must speak to Princess Lamahu." <<elseif $chp6_22b2 is 3>> "I do not need you meddling in my life. I do not need you at all," you hiss, throwing the locket at her. The catch of the necklace snaps as you yank the locket away from your throat. Your heart pounds loudly under your chest as you fling the gleaming metal at your mother. It hits her with a clink before it slips to the ground. Your mother's eyes widen, hurt and something that looks like anger, swirls in her gaze. "$name," she breathes. "This is... your grandmother gave this to you." You narrow your eyes. "It is //yours//. It will only remind me of you." Your argument does not go unnoticed, for the warriors stationed nearby grip their spears tighter, their eyes narrowed as they glance in your direction. $mama follows your gaze and waves her hand at the warriors. In an instant, they ease their stance but you do not miss the glares they cast you. "I think that you should respect $name's decision," Queen Elora speaks, drawing your mother's attention. A frown pulls at your mother's lips before she nods. The movement is slight and for a moment, you almost think that you have imagined it. Slowly, your mother kneels, grasping the locket from the ground, her fingers curling over it. "I am sorry that the locket seems to bring you so much pain, $name," $mama murmurs. "That was never my intention." She pauses, averting her gaze. "I suppose it was foolish to have thought that we could have shared a carriage." "I do not understand," you reply, frowning. Your mother lets out a breath. "I am travelling to Sangasu with the rest of you. Princess Lamahu is an old friend and I thought it would be prudent for us to talk before you can propose an alliance with her." <<elseif $chp6_22b2 is 4>> "Queen Elora means more to me than you will ever understand," you breathe. The words come out all at once, your voice spilling past your lips in a single breath. For a moment, you can do nothing but stare at your mother, desperate for her to understand. Would she even try to, you wonder? You turn away, glancing at Queen Elora and find that she is already looking at you, her eyes wide and her lips pulled into a smile. Your feelings for the young woman has become as easy as breathing. It is difficult not to grow warm when Queen Elora gazes at you. She is soft and kind, a woman who has accepted you even despite your vastly different stations in life. "I... I see," $mama murmurs. She stares at you, her expression pinched. "I only want your happiness, $name." "Then know that Queen Elora makes me happy," you reply. Your mother nods, casting a fleeting look at Queen Elora before she turns away. For a moment, she does not speak and you wonder if she is thinking about the distance between you, one that seems nearly impossible to cross. "I suppose that you and Her Majesty will travel together to Sangasu then," your mother breathes. "Why do you ask?" you question. $mama shakes her head, swallowing visibly. "I will be accompanying you to Sangasu. Princess Lamahu is an old friend and there are some things we need to talk about before you offer her an alliance." <<elseif $chp6_22b2 is 5>> "I do not need your judgment over who I choose to keep close to me," you growl. Your words erupt from your lips, the sting of hatred and pain, staining your voice with a guttural sound. It comes out hard, a cruel thing that seems to catch your mother by surprise. Her eyes widen, a breath escaping her lips as she stares at you. Beside you, Queen Elora steps closer, her expression hard as she gazes at your mother. "That is not..." $mama breathes, shaking her head. She looks away, her fingers trembling as she wipes at her eyes. "I did not mean to judge you, $name. I am only curious to the people you spend the most time with." "You are curious?" you ask, laughing bitterly. "All my life, when I did not know what had happened to you, were you as curious then or had you forgotten all about me in favour of your new family?" "$name," $mama emphasises. She frowns, for the first time, her pain giving way to frustration. "Danzor and Rana... they have not replaced you. I have always longed to know about your life." You scoff, your eyes narrowing at your mother's words. It is difficult to believe her. For twenty years, she has been absent, a vague memory of the woman who left you with Ahlf. Now that she is here, asking about the people who have accepted you, only serves to infuriate you further. "My life is my own," you spit. "I do not wish to share it with you, $mama." She looks away, swallowing. "I see. I thought that we could have shared a carriage to Sangasu but it seems that it would be futile request." You scowl. "You are travelling to Sangasu too?" $mama nods, wringing her hands together. "Princess Lamahu is an old friend and there are things that I need to discuss with her, before you can offer an alliance." <</if>> [[Next.|chp6_22b4]]

Queen Elora casts your mother a curious look, her gaze assessing as she takes in your mother's words. You do not know what to make of your mother's response. She is coming to Sangasu with the rest of your companions? Your thoughts race, struggling to understand what it is that she wishes to discuss with Princess Lamahu. "I hope that what you need to say to Her Highness will not sway her opinion of the alliance," Queen Elora states, her expression hard. "We have travelled a long way and $name risked $MChis life for the Ishari prisoners for the alliance to be rejected." Your mother nods, glancing at you. "I know that. Fear not, I shall not poison Princess Lamahu's thoughts. I support the notion of peace, even if it means working with the exiled prince." One of the warriors gestures to your mother and she sighs, looking at you with a strange expression. It is hard to tell what she is thinking, only that it leaves you feeling as if she is trying to see through your thoughts. "I must leave you now," she says. "The journey will be a long one and we will depart soon." Your mother walks away, following after the warrior who beckoned her. Queen Elora is quiet for a moment, watching your mother's retreat with idle curiousity. But when she notices your gaze on her, she smiles, the expression vanishing. "She is right," Queen Elora explains. "We should board the coach. Let us hope that this journey will not be too long." [[Next.|chp6_23]]

<<if $chp6_22c is 1>> "You are right. I must be tired," you sigh, not wanting to discuss what you have learnt. Your head feels heavy, the weight of what you have discovered dragging at your shoulders until it is difficult to stand. Sir Oren gazes at you with a look of concern. It is clear that he does not believe you, but he does not push you for more. Instead, he smiles softly, a kind expression on his face. "It has been a lot," he murmurs. "When I first started training to join the Royal Vinian Guard, we were told that in times of war and strife, there would be times where we would be faced with great challenges." You think about what you have been through since fleeing Salt Bay. Losing Ahlf and then, discovering a family you never knew existed in Vinia had left you reeling with so many emotions. Returning to Ishari as a stranger to its customs, only to discover that $mama is alive and here is enough to make you want to sail across the seas and never return. "It has been a lot," you mumble. Sir Oren nods, patting the side of your shoulder. "You are not alone in this, $name. I am here for you and so are the others. When things become too much for you, you can always come to me. I promise you that I will listen." A surge of warmth, a hold like the glowing embers of a fire during a cold night, wraps around you. Sir Oren smiles at you, the sincerity in his expression is enough to allay the knot in your stomach, easing it until you can finally breathe again. "Thank you," you breathe. <<elseif $chp6_22c is 2>> "It is not that," you breathe. "I... I spoke to my mother earlier." <<if $salyra_rel is 1>> You decided to mend the relationship with $mama today, though it does not soothe the absence you have felt in the years that you were apart. There are many things to consider, before you can finally accept what has happened. Still, perhaps today was the first step towards a better relationship with your mother, one that you have longed for since your childhood. "What did you speak about?" Sir Oren asks. You let out a breath, a small smile pulling at your lips. "We spoke about her past and... my father. It was painful, but I needed answers and she gave them." Sir Oren nods, casting you a warm smile. "It is good to hear that, $name. If I am to be honest, I do not know what I would have done in your place. But when I think about my Baba and Adda, I do not think that I would be able to go on without having them in my life." You smile. Sir Oren speaks warmly about his fathers, a note of affection in his tone. You wonder if that you might speak of $mama like that one day and perhaps, your relationship will be as unbreakable as Sir Oren's and his fathers. "Have you decided what you want from your mother?" Sir Oren asks. He does not say it bluntly, but it is evident that he is curious about what you have chosen for your relationship with your mother. "I have decided to mend our relationship," you answer. "It will be a difficult task, but I know it is what I want." <<elseif $salyra_rel is 2>> When you spoke to your mother, you chose to sever the ties between you. It has been years since you last saw her and now, you are no longer a child in need of protection. $mama is still your mother, but that does not mean that you need her the way she seems to need you. "You seem to have come to a decision," Sir Oren comments. You exhale, your breath deep and heavy as it spills past your lips. There has been so much that you needed to understand, but in your heart, you know that you have made the right decision. Ending the relationship with your mother is something that you needed to do, perhaps it is something you needed to do a long time ago. "I... I decided that I do not want a relationship with my mother," you answer. "It is not something that I need." Sir Oren gazes at you, a flicker of concern in his eyes. For a moment, you think that he might disapprove of your decision. From what you have gathered, Sir Oren has a very different relationship with his family than you seem to have had with yours. But whatever you were expecting him to say, you did not think that his concern would be for you. "Are you alright?" he asks, frowning. "I know that it must have been a difficult decision to have made." "I... It was the right decision," you answer. "I am only grateful that my courage did not falter when I made it." Sir Oren reaches out, squeezing your shoulder. His grip is warm and reassuring. "You are always courageous, $name. Even when you think that you are not. Whatever may come, know that I will be here for you." <<elseif $salyra_rel is 3>> Rage fills you at the memory of your conversation with your mother. Her answers were not enough and perhaps, nothing she would ever say would be enough. Your entire childhood was spent alone, wondering what happened to her and now, she returns as if nothing has changed between you. "You are angry," Sir Oren breathes, glancing at you. "What happened, $name?" You look away, your fingers curling into fists at your sides. It is hard to put your feelings into words, especially when all you want to do is to scream out in fury. Your chest constricts painfully until it is difficult to swallow a full breath. Sir Oren frowns, placing a hand over your shoulder. "$name," he calls. "It is alright. You need not tell me what happened." "I chose to cut ties with my mother," you huff. "I cannot possibly accept her into my life after I have learnt what I have." Sir Oren nods, his eyebrows furrowing as he regards you. "I am sorry, $name. This is a painful thing that you are dealing with, but I know that you will prevail over this hardship." You look up at him, nodding in response. Sir Oren smiles warmly, the sight of it is enough to ease the anger you feel. Slowly, your breathing returns to normal and your fists unfurl at your sides. <<elseif $salyra_rel is 4>> Everything has been too much for you in the short time that you have arrived in Ishari. You wonder what will become of your relationship with $mama, now that you know what she has told you. It is difficult to make sense of her actions without being reminded of the pain her absence caused and yet, you still wonder what might become of you if you choose to accept her back in your life. "You have been through a lot," Sir Oren breathes. "Especially with what you have learnt about your mother." You nod, grateful for Sir Oren's consideration. He offers you a small smile and the sight of it is enough to make your chest swell with warmth. In the chaos of learning about your mother's life in Ishari to discovering her new family, you had almost forgotten that you were not alone. "Thank you," you say. "I still do not know what I will do. My mother wants us to remedy our relationship, but so much time has passed." Sir Oren pauses, his eyebrows furrowing he regards you. "I cannot tell you what to do, $name. But I can tell you that no matter what you choose, the rest of us will be here for you. I will be here for you." You smile. "Thank you, Sir Oren."<</if>> <<elseif $chp6_22c is 3>> "I found my mother going through my belongings," you mutter, your fingers curling into fists. Your skin burns with rage. It is hard to breathe, to think beyond what you have witnessed. Your mother seemed unbothered about going through the jade box that Ahlf gave you. Does she truly not care about you or has she lost all senses of what being a mother is supposed to be? A bitter laugh spills past your lips. How can $mama ever know what being a mother is like if she was never a mother to you? "$name," Sir Oren breathes, his eyes widening. "I am sorry. I did not know that your mother had done such a thing." You shrug. "I should have expected soemthing like this. She seems so eager to mend our broken relationship that she is willing to destroy any semblance of trust I had." Sir Oren shakes his head. "I... My Baba and Adda have taught me that you cannot force something that might seem right, but leaves you feeling broken. Your mother must have her reasons, $name, but you cannot allow her reasons to overtake your feelings on the matter." The anger that had gripped you, like fingers squeezing into your lungs, release its hold on you. A sharp breath escapes you and you can finally breathe again. Gazing at Sir Oren, you murmur, "I... thank you, Sir Oren." <<elseif $chp6_22c is 4>> You cannot speak for the pressure in your throat is too much as tears gather in your eyes. A gasp escapes you, the sound strangled and hollow, like the mournful wail of a dying beast. Sir Oren's eyes widen and suddenly, he is pulling you into his chest. His arms are solid and his chest broad and warm as the tears finally spill down your cheeks. "$name," he breathes. "It is alright. I am here." You sob until your throat is raw and your face is hot with tears. Your lungs squeeze painfully as you swallow mouthfuls of air, the sharp pain in your stomach a reminder of what has happened in the past few days. It has been too much, you think and you do not know how much longer you will be able to endure. Shudders wrack your body, but Sir Oren does not relinquish his grip around you. He holds you steady, even when your knees threaten to give way beneath your weight. He murmurs softly to you, a soothing sound that one might make when coaxing a frightened child. His presence is enough, you think, as your breathing settles and your tears dry. When you pull away, your face puffy and your chest aching, Sir Oren offers you a gentle smile. There is no judgment in his hazel eyes or the look of someone who has witnessed something shameful. "You have been through a lot, $name," Sir Oren murmurs. "No matter what happens, I will always be here for you." <<elseif $chp6_22c is 5>> In need of comfort, you reach out for Sir Oren's embrace. Sir Oren's eyes widen in response as your arms slip around the broad expanse of his chest. He is warm and soothing and when he wraps you closer, his hold unwavering and his smile gentle, you find yourself burying your face into his scent and breathing in the comfort that he gives. Sir Oren does not speak and for a moment, you listen to the steady heartbeat beneath his chest. The sound draws your mind away from what you have learnt about $mama and for a time, you can simply breathe, enjoying the freedom from your thoughts. "$name," Sir Oren murmurs. He glances at you, his hazel eyes warm. "What happened?" His question pierces through the calm that settled over you and you let out a sharp breath. Sir Oren squeezes his arms tighter around you, the press of his hold enough to steady your legs and remind you that you are not nearly as alone as you thought you might have been. "I spoke to my mother," you mumble, your voice muffled against his chest. A low sound rumbles in the back of his throat, but he does not press for more. Instead, his large palm smooths the tension in your back and you close your eyes, basking in his warmth and gentle touch. "When you feel overwhelmed again, know that I will be here for you, $name," Sir Oren breathes. He smiles kindly. "Always." <</if>> [[Next.|chp6_22c2]]

Your thoughts finally soothed, or perhaps, not nearly as frenetic they had been moments ago, you allow your gaze to sweep over the temple courtyard. The coaches are being guarded by the Ishari warriors and beyond that, you catch glimpses of the priestesses tending to those who were rescued last night. But then you see it - the familiar hue of your mother's robes. Her eyes meet yours and then, she is striding to where you stand with Sir Oren. At the sight of your mother, Sir Oren stands straighter though you are uncertain if it is from respect or from his training. "$name," $mama breathes. She scans your face, a small<<if $salyraRel gte 55>> smile pulling at her lips.<<else>> frown gracing her lips.<</if>> Sir Oren steps closer to you and your mother's attention finally shifts to him. She is still much shorter than Sir Oren and has to look up to meet his hazel eyes. Something like warmth flashes through her face, but you are uncertain if the expression is genuine. "You are the Captain of the Royal Vinian Guard," $mama says. "I want to thank you for lending us some of your people last night." "It was nothing," Sir Oren answers. "I would have helped even if it was not required. No one deserves to be imprisoned simply for their beliefs." Your mother's smile softens and she nods. "Yes, you are right." $mama returns her attention to you and you nearly buckle from the intensity of her gaze. For a moment, neither of you speak and then, she smiles, glancing at Sir Oren once again. "I am glad that you have found such a good friend like Sir Oren," $mama murmurs. "There are few people who will stand by your side in difficult times." <<set $chp6_22c2 to 0>> [["Sir Oren is a dear friend, indeed," you agree, glancing warmly at him.|chp6_22c3][$chp6_22c2 +=1, $orenRel +=5]] [["I do not need your approval in my choice of friends," you snap, rankled by her familiarity.|chp6_22c3][$chp6_22c2 +=2, $salyraRel -=5]] <<if $locket_wear is true>> [["I do not need your opinions on my life. I do not need anything of you," you hiss, flinging the locket at her.|chp6_22c3][$chp6_22c2 +=3, $salyraRel -=5]]<</if>> <<if $orenRom gte 35 and $irus_lock is false>> [["I have come to trust Sir Oren deeply," you breathe. "He has quickly become more than a simple friend."|chp6_22c3][$chp6_22c2 +=4, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5]] [["Sir Oren has stood by me as more than a friend," you mutter. "Unlike those who are supposed to protect the ones they love."|chp6_22c3][$chp6_22c2 +=5, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5, $salyraRel -=5]]<</if>>

<<if $chp6_22c2 is 1>> "Sir Oren is a dear friend, indeed," you agree, glancing warmly at him. Sir Oren meets your gaze, wearing a small smile. In the time that you have known him, Sir Oren has been a steady presence at your side. He has been kinder to you than most have ever tried and for that, you are grateful. His friendship had not been planned, but you do not think that you can imagine a life without it. "I am glad," $mama breathes. "It seems that you have made a good life for yourself, $name." Her words are filled with sorrow and when you turn to look at $mama, you notice a look of pain in her gaze. She lets out a breath, turning away from your stare as she regards the rest of the courtyard. You are uncertain what to make of her expression. Perhaps it is remorse for missing out on so much of your life? "$name has found good friends," Sir Oren explains, breaking the silence. "I am grateful to be considered as one." $mama smiles, glancing at Sir Oren once again. When she turns to you, her smile fades until there is a pained look in her eyes. "I thought we could have shared a carriage, $name," she says. "But it seems that you will be travelling with Sir Oren." <<elseif $chp6_22c2 is 2>> "I do not need your approval in my choice of friends," you snap, rankled by her familiarity. Your mother's eyes widen at your words, any sign of wamth slipping away from her face only to replaced with hurt and surprise. Her expression only twists at your stomach, your fingers curling at your sides. You do not want her in your life, nor do you seek out her guidance the way it seems she wants you to. "$name," $mama breathes, her fingers trembling. "I did not... I was only expressing that I am happy for you." You run a hand over your face. Rage simmers beneath your skin, like a swarm of wasps ready to burst out. Your mother frowns, reaching out as though she wants to soothe you but then stops, thinking better of the action. Sir Oren glances at you, his expression filled with concern. "All this time, I have been without your guidance," you snap. "I do not need it now, simply because you are here." Sir Oren steps forward, his broad back blocking you partially. He offers you a soft smile, reaching out to grip your shoulder. You want to lash out, but he squeezes his hand and suddenly, the fight leaves you. A tired breath escapes your lips and $mama can only look on silently. "It seems that the both of you will travel together," $mama breathes. "Perhaps it was foolish of me to have wanted to share a carriage with you, $name." <<elseif $chp6_22c2 is 3>> "I do not need your opinions on my life. I do not need anything of you," you hiss, flinging the locket at her. The clasp snaps as you tear the locket away from your chest. It is heavy in your palm and you take great pleasure in throwing it at $mama. Her eyes widen, but she does not move away. The locket hits her chest, sliding onto the floor. It is broken, a destroyed reminder of the mother you once knew. "$name," she gasps. "This... your grandmother gave it to you. Do not throw it away." "She gave it to me as a reminder of you," you spit. "I want nothing to do with you, $mama." Your mother flinches at your words. Slowly, she kneels down and picks the locket up, as though it was a broken bird in need of aid. You scowl, your fury rumbling through you and your hatred as hot as the flames of destruction. "I see," she breathes. "I did not..." She shakes her head. Sir Oren reaches out, steadying you with his large palm. The heat of his touch is enough to draw your ire away from your mother, the rage easing until it is no more than a twist in your chest. "I am sorry, $name," $mama whispers. "I had thought that we could speak more if we shared a carriage but it seems that we will travel separately." <<elseif $chp6_22c2 is 4>> "I have come to trust Sir Oren deeply," you breathe. "He has quickly become more than a simple friend." Heat courses through you, like the grasp of a warm blanket or the heat of a low flame against the palm of your hands. Sir Oren turns to gaze at you, his hazel eyes wide and his smile soft. It is difficult to look away from him, when he looks at you like that. You let out a shaky breath, affection swelling under your chest until you are certain it will burst. "I see," $mama breathes. She glances at you, then, at Sir Oren. "It is good to have found someone like Sir Oren." Sir Oren speaks before you can. His expression is fond and though he addresses $mama, he is looking at you. "I am grateful to have met $name," he murmurs. "There is so much that I have learnt from $MChim and it would be foolish to think that $MChe is the fortunate one for knowing me. It is the other way around. I am fortunate for knowing $MChim." Your mother nods, casting you a small smile. Despite the warmth in her smile, you note a tinge of remorse in her gaze and beneath it, you find sorrow as deep as an abyss. She blinks and the emotions disappear, leaving you uncertain of what you thought you saw. "I suppose that you will be travelling together," $mama says. "I had hoped that we could have shared a carriage, $name. But no matter." <<elseif $chp6_22c2 is 5>> "Sir Oren has stood by me as more than a friend," you mutter. "Unlike those who are supposed to protect the ones they love." The jab at your mother does not go unnoticed. But you had wanted it to cut at her, the way her absence had cut at you. She flinches, a gasp escaping her lips. Turning away, your mother wrings her fingers together, staring at the ground. She does not speak and her silence only serves to make your rage hotter, a thing so encompassing of hatred and hurt that you jaw clenches. "$name," she breathes. "I told you my reasons-" "You reasons are not enough," you spit. "Did you think that I could simply forgive you?" She shakes her head, glancing at Sir Oren for a moment, before she returns her attention to you. You are uncertain what she sees when she looks at you. Perhaps she still sees you as a young child, a hapless $heir in need of their mother or perhaps, all she sees is the stranger you have become. "I did not come here to argue, $name," she murmurs. "I never meant to hurt you the way that I did, but we cannot change our past." "You are right," you mutter. "We cannot change what happened. So do not expect me to change how I feel now." A strangled sound leaves $mama's lips, the keening of a dying animal. A few warriors who stand close to $mama, glance in your direction. They grip their spears tightly and you realise that they only see you as a threat to the woman who abandoned you. $mama follows your gaze and shakes her head at the warriors. At once, they relax their stance, but their hard eyes never leave you. "I suppose that you will be sharing a carriage with Sir Oren," she breathes, a pained smile gracing her lips. "It was a foolish thought, but I had hoped that we could have travelled together." <</if>> [[Next.|chp6_22c4]]

Your mother's words leave you confused. What does she mean about sharing a carriage? Your mother notices your expression and offers you a tight smile. Her fingers twist into the fabric of her robes and for a moment, it seems as if there is something she wants to say. But the moment passes and your mother averts her gaze. Sir Oren speaks instead, his low baritone drawing your attention. "I did not realise that you would be travelling to Sangasu with us." Your mother nods. "Princess Lamahu is an old friend. There are things that I need to discuss with her before you can broach the topic of an alliance." She glances away, her eyes roaming over the carriages. You cannot help but wonder what things in particular your mother needs to discuss and whether or not they have any implications on the alliance. "The journey will be a long one," $mama says. "I should find a carriage. You should too." She nods to you and then at Sir Oren, before she takes her leave of you. Sir Oren lets out a breath, turning to you. Your mother is right. There is no time to think about what your mother might have planned in Sangasu. For now, you can only hope that Prince Irus will be able to secure an alliance with Ishari. [[Next.|chp6_23]]

<<if $chp6_22d is 1>> "I am fine," you answer, not wanting to discuss what you have learnt. Discovering the truth about your mother's actions has left you reeling with a thousand thoughts. There are so many unanswered questions, things that you are uncertain that you want to know the truth about. You swallow, your mouth dry and your breathing sharp. Talking about what you have learnt only seems to bring back the memories of your conversation with your mother and it is something you would rather not discuss with Anu. Anu huffs, turning away from you. She stares across the courtyard, her fingers twitching at her sides as though she feels naked without a weapon. You realise that Anu must have known your mother for much longer than you, considering her role in the temple and a flicker of envy swirls within you. "Sargon tells me that I should talk more," Anu sighs. "Of course, I do not listen to him. Somethimes, nothing can get done through words alone." You stare at Anu, your eyebrows furrowing. "What do you mean?" She offers you a grin. "Sometimes, when things get too much, you can always pick up a blade and swing it at a tree." <<elseif $chp6_22d is 2>> "It has been a lot," you admit. "But the alliance is important and I refuse to stand aside while my companions do what needs to be done." You have been through much in such a short time that the notion of leaving your companions to deal with the alliance seems laughable. Your mother's presence has complicated things, but when has your life not been complicated? You cannot abandon your friends, not when you have already committed yourself to securing an alliance. Anu chuckles. It is not an unkind sound and when you turn to look at her, there is a strange look of admiration in her grey eyes. The sight of it leaves you breathless, uncertain how to respond. "It is good to know what you fight for," Anu explains. "I have known many who have lost sight of what was important to them." You think about your mother. Had she lost sight of what was important to her? Then, a nagging thought tugs at the back of your mind. Did she ever consider you as important to her own goals? Anu must notice the expression you wear, because her eyes soften slightly. "I cannot pretend to know what happened between you and your mother," she says. "It is a hard thing to lose a parent. If I were in your place, I might have used my fists instead of words to solve the issue. But I am not in your place and I can only offer you my words of support." <<elseif $chp6_22d is 3>> "She went through my belongings," you huff. "How could I be alright when she continues to betray my trust?" You remember the look on $mama's face when you confronted her about the jade chest. She had rifled through your belongings, through //Ahlf's// belongings and the thought only serves to inflame your rage. How much more are you expected to endure? It seems that there is only one thing that your mother is able to do and that is to cause you hurt. Anu's eyes widen slightly. She opens her mouth then closes it and you stare at her, daring her to defend the woman who has betrayed you. A moment passes like that, before Anu turns away, sighing. You do not think that she will respond to you, perhaps for fear of the repercussions of insulting the High Priestess of the temple. "I do not know what to say to you, $name," Anu mumbles. "If Sargon had done what your mother had done, I'd likely not speak to him for weeks or perhaps, months. But Sargon is not your mother and he has not gone through my things since I was a child." "Is there a point to your story?" you ask, still seething. Anu frowns, glancing at you. "What I am trying to say is that you should not accept something simply because she is your mother. Do what you want, $name. I know I would." <<elseif $chp6_22d is 4>> You cannot speak, your throat tightening around the sound of a sob. It becomes difficult to breathe as your chest constricts around your lungs. You gasp, the sound broken and lost as it spills past your lips. Burning begins to build up behind your eyes, the tears hot and prickling. You blink, sniffling slightly. "//Deities//," Anu breathes, staring at you. "Are you going to cry?" "No," you mumble, your voice strangled. You blink again, but it is difficult to keep your tears away when thoughts of $mama return to you. Since fleeing Salt Bay, you have endured so much. How much more are you expected to face, to accept without a word of protest? The more the thoughts begin to twist and gnaw at your mind, the harder it becomes to stop the whimper that escapes you. "You //are// crying," Anu says. It takes you a moment to realise that your cheeks are wet. Your lips taste like salt and you hastily wipe away at your eyes, turning away from Anu's stare. You shudder, your breathing hitched as you struggle to swallow mouthfuls of air over your sobs. Anu reaches out, her fingers tight on your arm and for a moment, you think that she might mock you for your weakness, but when you meet her gaze, there is sorrow and something akin to sympathy in her eyes. Your breath catches and Anu's grey eyes shifts and morphs until you are staring at twin suns, fiery and bright. Slowly, your tears begin to stop and your breathing deepens. A sense of calm, a sense of peace, washes over you like the gentle lap of waves. Anu blinks and instantly, the glow is gone, replaced by the usual grey of her irises. "What... what did you do?" you ask, confused. Anu shrugs. "I only helped soothe your thoughts. Not all of the divine blessings we get are destructive." <<elseif $chp6_22d is 5>> You let out a breath, desperate for comfort, but uncertain how to voice your thoughts. How long has it been since you have felt safe? Memories of $mama come flooding back, like the raging storm of a tumultuous sea. It nearly drowns you, the conflicting emotions swirling inside your mind until you are churning with desperation. $mama used to be the source of your comfort as a child. She had been the one who protected you from harm, the only person who ever kept you safe. When she left you with Ahlf, it had been the memory of her kindness, her warmth that had let you endure the taunts and whispers in Salt Bay. Everything changed when you found your mother again. She is no longer the same sense of comfort that she used to be as a child and standing here, beside Anu, you cannot help but wonder if you will ever find that comfort again. "$name," Anu calls. You blink, glancing at her. She offers you a strange look, an expression that you cannot quite place. But then, Anu is reaching out, her arms slipping over your shoulders and dragging you to her chest. A breath of surprise escapes you, as Anu's warmth spills across you. "I am sorry for what you have been through," Anu breathes. She draws back, fixing you with a soft expression. "You are strong, $name. Most would buckle under the weight of what you have endured. Give yourself the chance to feel what you must, but know that you are strong enough to move past this." You swallow, touched by the sincerity in Anu's voice. You can only manage a nod, a shaky breath escaping you when Anu finally lets go of your shoulders. <</if>> [[Next.|chp6_22d2]]

As your thoughts lessen, you allow yourself to take in the rest of the courtyard. The coaches are guarded by warriors and beyond that, you find a few of the freed Ishari prisoners being tended to by priestesses. It fills you with relief that you managed to rescue most of those who had been captured, but your thoughts soon turn to your mother. Perhaps it is fate then, when you catch sight of the familiar material of your mother's robes. Looking up, you find your mother approaching you. Behind her, two Ishari warriors follow closely. You stiffen and hear Anu mutter something under her breath. "$name," $mama calls. She turns, gazing at you with a<<if $salyraRel gte 55>> fond expression on her face.<<else>> pained expression on her face.<</if>> "High Priestess," Anu greets, bowing her head. Your mother turns towards Anu, her eyes warming at the sight of the priestess. There is a softness in the way your mother looks at Anu that reminds you of the way she would look at you as a child. It seems that in your time apart, your mother has forged strong bonds with those who were not you. "I did not know that you and $name have become friends," your mother comments, glancing at you. "It is good to see you adjusting so well, $name." <<set $chp6_22d2 to 0>> [["Anu has been a good friend to me," you answer, stealing a look at Anu.|chp6_22d3][$chp6_22d2 +=1, $anuRel +=5]] [["It has been difficult, but I am adjusting well to Ishari," you reply.|chp6_22d3][$chp6_22d2 +=2]] [["You must be blinded to think that we are friends," you spit.|chp6_22d3][$chp6_22d2 +=3, $salyraRel -=5]] [["This is not my home," you hiss. "I have no place here."|chp6_22d3][$chp6_22d2 +=4]] <<if $locket_wear is true>> [["I am only here because of the alliance. I want nothing to do with Ishari or you," you growl, flinging the locket at your mother.|chp6_22d3][$chp6_22d2 +=5]]<</if>>

<<if $chp6_22d2 is 1>> "Anu has been a good friend to me," you answer, stealing a look at Anu. Anu meets your gaze, her lips tugging into a smile in response. It is a strange thing to consider Anu as a friend, but in the time that you have known her, she has proven to be a steady companion. Perhaps it is because of what you have learnt about Anu, or perhaps, it is because you both rescued the prisoners together that has made your bond stronger. When you look at your mother, you find that she is smiling widely at you. Her expression is soft, the same sincerity in her gaze that had been directed towards Anu only a few moments ago. You cannot tell if your mother is pleased that you have found a friend in Ishari or because she wants you to fit in better in her home. "Anu is a capable warrior and an even better priestess," your mother explains. "There is no one who would make a greater friend." Your mother's praise for Anu comes easily and you are suddenly struck by the thought that you have never heard her praise for you. Growing up with Ahlf meant that you had become accustomed to heavy silences and grunts of irritation. How long has it been since $mama ever praised you? "I suppose that you will share a carriage with Anu," $mama states. "It is a pity because I would have liked to have spent the journey to Sangasu with you, $name. But no matter. We can talk later." <<elseif $chp6_22d2 is 2>> "It has been difficult, but I am adjusting well to Ishari," you reply. Ishari is your birthplace, but for almost all of your life, you spent it in Salt Bay. You were never truly accepted in Salt Bay, even when Ahlf was your father and you knew nearly nothing about the culture you left behind when you fled. Coming to Ishari is almost like coming to a place where you belong. Perhaps it is because you do not garner the same looks of hatred or perhaps, it is because now most of the residents in the temple seem to have discovered your relation to their High Priestess. Whatever the reason, you feel more at ease in Ishari than you had when you first arrived. $mama smiles softly at you, her eyes warm. "I am happy to hear that, $name. Ishari is your home, no matter what has happened. You will always be welcomed here." You nod in response but your thoughts soon turn to what might come in the weeks ahead. There is still your family in Vinia and you think about your companions. You doubt that they will find a home in Ishari, not when they have other homes in mind. Your thoughts are interrupted by $mama. "I had hoped that we could share a carriage to Sangasu," $mama says. "But it seems that you will be travelling with Anu." <<elseif $chp6_22d2 is 3>> "You must be blinded to think that we are friends," you spit. Your rage comes out sharp, a thing full of barbed thorns and poison. You want to lash out $mama, to tell her that she knows nothing about your life or the person you have become. $mama stares at you, her eyes widening and her fingers twisting into the material of her robes. "$name..." $mama breathes. "I did not-" <<if $anuRel gte 55>> "It has been a stressful time for everyone, High Priestess," Anu interrupts. "Perhaps it would better to discuss something else?" Your mother startles, staring at Anu. A moment passes before she nods, her breath shaky. <<else>> "We are not friends," Anu interrupts, glancing at you. "But $name played a role in freeing our people and for that, $MChe will have my gratitude." Your mother nods, her lips pressing together in a thin line. She steals a glance at you, but does not respond.<</if>> Anger still simmers beneath your skin, like the embers of a fire. You curl your hands at your sides, your nails biting into the palms of your skin. A few of the warriors glance in your direction, their eyes hard as they stare between you and $mama. A bitter laugh escapes you. It is $mama that they are concerned about, not the child she abadoned all those years ago. "I did not mean to assume," $mama breathes. "I suppose that I should find a different carriage. I had hoped..." She shakes her head. "It is no matter. I will find a different carriage then." <<elseif $chp6_22d2 is 4>> "This is not my home," you hiss. "I have no place here." Fury fills you, and beneath it, there is an ache so deep that you cannot breathe. For years you have wished for a place where you would be accepted, a place where you could consider home. But it is clear that from the way that the others in the temple look at you, especially now that they have seemingly learnt about your relation to $mama that you are not nearly as welcome as you might have hoped to be. "$name," $mama breathes. "This is your home. Ishari is your birthplace." You laugh. The sound is hollow and cold to your ears. $mama flinches, as though you have physically struck her and the sight only serves to twist the knife in your chest. Does she not understand what you have had to endure? You were never fully accepted in Salt Bay and it seems that you will never be fully accepted in Ishari either. "This is not my home," you mutter. "I do not know these people or their customs. You sent me to live with Ahlf. What did you think would happen?" Your mother grows silent, her lips pressing. She turns away, unable to meet your eyes and you want to scream. Will she always evade you when you demand answers? "Ahlf was your father," $mama whispers. "He could protect you when I could not and I... I thought that it would not take this long for us to see each other. I..." "I am only here because of Ahlf's death," you spit. "Were it not for that, I would not have even realised that you were here all this time." A strangled sound escapes your mother and Anu stiffens beside you, as though seeing $mama so broken is an unusual sight. You do not care, not when everything that she has done to you has left you lost and without a true home. "I am sorry, $name," $mama breathes. "I will leave you then. I had hoped to share a carriage to Sangasu, but it seems that it would be too much to ask." <<elseif $chp6_22d2 is 5>> "I am only here because of the alliance. I want nothing to do with Ishari or you," you growl, flinging the locket at your mother. The clasp snaps as you pull at the chain around your neck. Your rage is hot, a liquid fire that burns deeply in your gut as you fling the locket at $mama. It hits her against her chest and she gasps, her eyes widening as though surprised by your act of rage. "$name," she breathes. "This is... your grandmother gave this to you. You should keep it." A growl of frustration escapes your lips, hatred as strong as the swell of a tidal wave, slipping over you until you can take no more. Your mother stares at you, her fingers trembling at the sight of your anger. You want to scream at her, to tell her about the pain you have endured because of what she has done. "The locket is yours," you mutter. "Ama thought it would remind me of you, but why would I want a reminder of the woman who abadoned me as a child?" A strangled sound escapes your mother and she looks at the locket at her feet. Kneeling, she reaches out and picks it from the sand, cradling it in her palms as though it was a fragile thing. You glower at your mother, daring her to say anything, but she is infuriatingly silent. "I see when I am not wanted, $name," she breathes. "It would be foolish now, to travel to Sangasu together when it seems that I only bring you pain." <</if>> [[Next.|chp6_22d4]]

You stare at your mother in confusion. Your journey to Sangasu is to secure an alliance, so why would your mother accompany you? Glancing at Anu, you find that the priestess is not nearly as surprised as you feel. Are you the only one who did not know about your mother's plans? "You are travelling to Sangasu," you breathe. "Why?" "Princess Lamahu is an old friend, $name," $mama replies. "There are things that I would like to discuss with her before your companions propose an alliance." Your mother glances at Anu, nodding at her before she gazes at you. An unreadable look flickers through your mother's eyes and you cannot help the unsettled feeling that washes over you. "I should find my carriage. The journey will be a long one," $mama states. "You should board yours too, $name." $mama leaves before you can reply and a glance at Anu's face tells you that is is unwilling to discuss what she might know about your mother's motives. Silently, you turn, stepping into the small space of the wooden coach, your thoughts on what might come. [[Next.|chp6_23]]

<<set $location to "The Great City of Sangasu.">><div class="timeline">The Great City of Sangasu, Ishari.</div> Stepping out of the coach, you are greeted by a magnificent palace. It seems to be endless in its height, the tallest of its spires reaching towards the clouds. There are warriors who guard the outer walls of the palace, though they wear armour unlike those worn by the warriors at the temple. Nearly as blinding as the sun, the warriors are dressed in regal attire, the black of their capes doing nothing to mask the bronze coloured armour they don. Beyond them, you spot a large pool of water, set into the ground that leads up to the palace steps. Seeing the lush gardens and the beauty of the palace, you... <<set $chp6_24 to 0>> [[...are in awe of its beauty.|chp6_25][$chp6_24 +=1]] [[...feel envious of the wealth that some obtain simply through their birth.|chp6_25][$chp6_24 +=2]] [[...are indifferent to the splendour. You are here to secure an alliance and nothing more.|chp6_25][$chp6_24 +=3]] [[...are upset by the wealth boasted, considering the hardships that others in Ishari have to endure.|chp6_25][$chp6_24 +=4]] [[...marvel at the architecture, though you cannot help but wonder if the wealth spent here would be better used to help the war efforts.|chp6_25][$chp6_24 +=5]]

<<if $chp6_24 is 1>> The palace must be at least five storeys tall, with wide, arched windows and intricate lattices that adorn its walls. Bathed in the afternoon sunlight, the walls glint as though they have been carved from gold and as you peer closer at the designs that outline the curved doors, you find tiny speckles of tinted glass that shimmer as the light strikes it. It is a magnificent sight and one that leaves you breathless. You realise now that Ishari was once a beautful region, perhaps even grander than Cyre and Vinia. The garden that surrounds the palace is nearly as large as the palace itself, with stone pathways and an array of large trees and flowers. This must have been how the rest of Ishari would have looked, were it not for the war, you think. There is enough in the design of the palace that reminds you of the temples you have seen. In another life, Ishari must have been a beautiful place. <<elseif $chp6_24 is 2>> As you take in the gleaming walls of the palace, the sight as if it has been carved of gold and jewels, you cannot help the pang of envy that bites at your gut. You think about the people of Ishari, the people you helped free from the temples and then, you think about your own life. The wealth and magnificence of the palace seems to be reserved only for those born to it and the thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. You cannot help but stare at the palace with longing, knowing that you once shared a small home with Ahlf where luxury was a thing of wishes and dreams. A bitter resentment builds inside you, like a festering wound that stings the longer you gaze at the palace and its lush gardens. It would seem that despite the war around you, there are some who are immune to its terrors. <<elseif $chp6_24 is 3>> There is little doubt in your mind that the architecture of the palace is far grander than what you have seen in Vinia and Cyre. The walls gleam like gold under the sunlight and the palace extends up five storeys. As you take in the intricate designs of the arched lattices and the mosaic tiles that glistens like sparkling jewels, you find that you are immune to its beauty. Around you, the rest of Ishari is caught in a war against the Blood Guard and Cyre. You are here to help secure an alliance, not to marvel at the state of palaces that seem to be untouched. You glance at the gardens and the large pool that sits in the middle of a wide path and frown. Basking in the sight of the palace would only mean losing your focus on what is important. There are many who have suffered at the hands of the Blood Guard and they are depending on the success of today. You are unbothered by the palace and all its beauty for today, you are here to secure an alliance with Ishari. <<elseif $chp6_24 is 4>> The palace gazes at you, its gleaming walls and intricate designs enough to make the temples in Ishari look plain. Your lips pull into a frown as you take in the opulence of its exterior walls and the pillars that hold up the five storeys that make up the palace. The wealth on display only serves to make you feel repulsed. You remember the faces of the freed prisoners last night and the suffering they endured. So many have been left homeless and without family and yet, it seems that not all have been affected nearly as badly as them. It is difficult to make sense of what you know and the palace before you. How can there be people living in luxury when others have been left destitute and broken by the war? You swallow the bitter taste of bile in the back of your throat and curl your hands into fists at your sides. Whatever happens, you can only hope that it will make the lives of those affected by the war, better. <<elseif $chp6_24 is 5>> The palace is large at five storeys tall and as you take in the opulence of its design, you cannot help but marvel at the architecture. Gleaming mosaic tiles, brightly coloured in turquoise and gold and blues, glimmer under the sunlight like jewels. Intrictate lattices, as if carved from the dusty stone itself, adorns the arched doorways. Gazing at the palace, you take in its beauty and the lush garden that surrounds it. A pool of clear water sits into the wide pathway, built out of stone and filled with small fish. Beyond that, you note flowers and trees that emit a sweet fragrance into the air. The magnificence of the palace is one that you have not seen before and you find yourself thinking about those who have been forced to endure the hardships caused by the war. As you take in the wealth and splendor of the palace, you find yourself questioning its use. Perhaps it would be better to use all that wealth in aiding those who need it the most, instead of boasting an attraction that matters not to the people who have suffered at the hands of the Blood Guard? <</if>> [[Next.|chp6_26]]

Your inspection of the palace is drawn away as your mother strides forward. The warriors stand taller at the sight of her robes and you realise that the warriors must recognise her as the High Priestess. They bow slightly when she approaches them, their eyes shifting over the rest of your companions before settling on Prince Irus. "High Priestess," one of the warriors greets. "It is our pleasure to welcome you to Sangasu. Her Illustrious Highness has been expecting you." $mama nods, smiling. "Thank you for welcoming us. There is much to be discussed so let us not tarry a moment longer." The warrior nods in responds. He gestures towards the others who have gathered and you are quickly flanked by the warriors as you and your companions are ushered into the palace. [[Next.|chp6_27]]

The interior of the palace is grander than its outside, with tall ceilings that are decorated with intricate designs. You take in its appearance, while you walk through the long hallways. Attendants pause, bowing to your mother as she walks past, as though the palace belonged to her. It would seem that your mother's status as a High Priestess has earned her the respect of many in Ishari. It is not long before you are led into a wide room. At the front sits a gilded chair made of jewels and shrouded by a lace veil that hangs over its back. Upon it, you find a woman seated there. She gazes at your group, before her lips pull into a wide smile when she notices your mother. "Salyra," she greets. "It has been too long." "It has, Your Illustrious Highness," $mama agrees. You stare at the woman, Princess Lamahu, who stands to greet your mother warmly. There is a familiarity in the way she hugs your mother, the way an old friend or cousin might. You gaze at $mama, unable to quell the curiosity that nags at you. It is evident that she and Princess Lamahu are close and yet, there are many questions that are still unanswered. <<set $chp6_27 to 0>> [[You hope that your mother's friendship with Princess Lamahu will make it easier to secure an alliance with her.|chp6_28][$chp6_27 +=1]] [[You feel a little jealous that your mother and Princess Lamahu seem so close.|chp6_28][$chp6_27 +=2]] [[A sliver of doubt fills you. Perhaps Princess Lamahu will not accept an alliance with Prince Irus?|chp6_28][$chp6_27 +=3]] [[Your suspicion grows as you take in the familiarity between your mother and Princess Lamahu. There is something that your mother is keeping from you.|chp6_28][$chp6_27 +=4]] [[No matter your mother's friendship with Princess Lamahu, you are here to secure an alliance.|chp6_28][$chp6_27 +=5]]

<<if $chp6_27 is 1>> You hope that your mother's friendship with Princess Lamahu will make it easier to secure an alliance with her. It would seem that Princess Lamahu seems favourable to your mother and perhaps, by accompanying your mother, Princess Lamahu will view the rest of your group the same. Your task of securing an alliance with Princess Lamahu will depend on many things, though perhaps your mother's support will sway her towards accepting the terms of the alliance with Prince Irus? <<elseif $chp6_27 is 2>> You feel a little jealous that your mother and Princess Lamahu seem so close. The thought comes unbidden and the spiral of envy that tugs at your chest is enough to leave you breathless. You know that Princess Lamahu is an old friend of your mother's and yet, it would seem that she knows your mother far better than you ever will. Averting your eyes, you swallow a hard lump. It only becomes more apparent that is //you// that has lost time with $mama. She has another life in Ishari and it is one that will take a long time to come to terms with it. <<elseif $chp6_27 is 3>> A sliver of doubt fills you. Perhaps Princess Lamahu will not accept an alliance with Prince Irus? While it is evident that Princess Lamahu seems to favour your mother, you are uncertain if that same opinion will be shared when she learns of the terms of the alliance. You steal a glance at your companions and find that they wear similiar expressions of doubt as you. There has been a lot that you endured to come to Sangasu and seek an audience with Princess Lamahu. Losing an alliance with her would only leave the rest of you in the same position that you had been in when you left Vinia. <<elseif $chp6_27 is 4>> Your suspicion grows as you take in the familiarity between your mother and Princess Lamahu. There is something that your mother is keeping from you. You remember the strange look in your mother's eyes when she spoke of joining you to Sangasu. What is it that she wanted to speak to Princess Lamahu about? The longer you examine your mother and Princess Lamahu, the more your suspicion grows. You wrack your thoughts in search of what your mother might be hiding from you, but you cannot think of what it could be. <<elseif $chp6_27 is 5>> No matter your mother's friendship with Princess Lamahu, you are here to secure an alliance. There is an ease in which your mother and Princess Lamahu react to each other, symbolic of the long friendship they must have shared. Yet, your thoughts are on the prospect of an alliance and what you will need to do to secure it. Princess Lamahu seems unaffected now by your companions' presence, her focus solely on your mother. Perhaps she is truly happy to see $mama or perhaps, she simply does not care about an alliance. Whatever it is, you hope that she will see the benefits of securing an alliance with Prince Irus. <</if>> Eventually, Princess Lamahu turns her attention towards the rest of your group. Her smile becomes strained when her eyes settle on Prince Irus and something in her expression changes, as if she is confronting her greatest fears. "You have brought me many guests," Princess Lamahu murmurs, her eyes never leaving Prince Irus. $mama nods, turning to you. "I have also brought $name." At the mention of your name, Princesss Lamahu's eyes snap towards you. Under the intensity of her gaze, you find that her eyes are nearly black and her skin, dark as mahogany, is unlined by her age. "$name," she repeats. "Your $heir?" "Yes," $mama answers. "$name was part of the group that arrived in Ishari." "Come closer, $name," Princess Lamahu calls. "Let me take a good look at you." <<set $chp6_28 to 0>> [[You approach Princess Lamahu, suddenly nervous under her scrutiny.|chp6_29][$chp6_28 +=1]] [[You are confident and meet Princess Lamahu's gaze as you approach her.|chp6_29][$chp6_28 +=2]] [[You make your way to Princess Lamahu, keeping your expression carefully guarded.|chp6_29][$chp6_28 +=3]] [[You narrow your eyes, annoyed at being ordered what to do and stay remain where you stand.|chp6_29][$chp6_28 +=4]]

<<if $chp6_28 is 1>> You approach Princess Lamahu, suddenly nervous under her scrutiny. Your breathing hitches as you approach Princess Lamahu. Her gaze is unwavering as she takes in your appearance and it it takes all of your restraint not to cower under her stare. As you make your way across the stone steps towards the dais where she stands, you find it difficult to keep from trembling. Princess Lamahu smiles at you and while it is not unkind, there is hardly anything soft in her expression. "You are frightened of me," she comments, seemingly amused. "Perhaps your claws were cut when your mother sent you away to Cyre." <<elseif $chp6_28 is 2>> You are confident and meet Princess Lamahu's gaze as you approach her. Standing taller, you approach Princess Lamahu with strong steps. You do not falter in your gaze of her and perhaps it is because of this that you notice the gleam that filters through her eyes. "You are stronger than I thought you would be," she comments, glancing at you. "Cyre did not break you the way I thought it would." A small smile tugs at the corners of her lips, the sight genuine despite the hardness of her expression. <<elseif $chp6_28 is 3>> You make your way to Princess Lamahu, keeping your expression carefully guarded. There is much that you do not know about Princess Lamahu and you know that she is judging you as much as you are judging her. As you approach, you force any thoughts away from your mind, careful not to let your emotions show. She peers closely at you, as if trying to sift out your thoughts but you refuse to let your feelings show and after a moment, Princess Lamahu purses her lips in frustration. "I see that you are not nearly as open as I hoped," she murmurs. "A typical thing of a Cyrene." <<elseif $chp6_28 is 4>> You narrow your eyes, annoyed at being ordered what to do and stay remain where you stand. There is little to be gained from refusing Princess Lamahu and yet, you stand stiff, your eyes hard as you regard the woman who thinks that she can command you. She stares at you, her lips pressing into a thin line as she takes in your stance. To your surprise, Princess Lamahu takes a step forward and then another, until she descends the stone stairs of her dais to stand before you. Her eyes flare with sharpness, a look that speaks of slighted pride. "You are stubborn then," she murmurs. "It seems that you have taken on the traits of those in Cyre." <</if>> Her words leave you reeling. It would seem that Princess Lamahu has known that you have been in Cyre all along, but the notion leaves you confused and scrambling for answers. Something in your expression must signal to Princess Lamahu of your thoughts because she tips her head back and lets out a laugh, the sound cold. "I see," she breathes. "You are unaware of much, child. Your mother always did think she was protecting you by sending you away." "Enough," $mama interrupts, her eyes hard. She gazes at Princess Lamahu and something unspoken passes between them. "The journey has been long and discussing such things so openly is unwise." Princess Lamahu sighs, displeased. "I suppose you are right, Salyra. Where are my manners? Welcome, honoured guests for that is what you will be within the confines of this palace." Her eyes find Prince Irus and her smile falters. "To thank you for your aid in freeing my people, you will be welcomed to a feast and a moment of rest." A few servants begin to filter into the room, their timing coinciding with Princess Lamahu's words. She nods at them, before smiling widely as she addresses your group. "Enjoy the honour that has been bestowed upon you," she announces. "You will be treated well here and tonight, we shall feast and discuss what you are all here for." [[Next.|chp6_30]]

There is little time to protest as the servants quickly usher the rest of you out of the large chamber. As you glance at Princess Lamahu, you find your mother still at her side. They speak in low whispers, but from the expression your mother wears, it is clear that she is unhappy with Princess Lamahu's words. Your attention is drawn away as you are led through a long hallway. The floors and walls are made of hard stone, as though the sun baked the sand until it formed hard lines able to be moulded into walls. Arched windows covered by wooden slats, allow the afternoon sunlight to coat the floors as you are led further into the palace. The hallway opens up to multiple rooms, each richly furnished with swathes of material and gilded furniture. Your companions are given their own room and you too, are granted a room. Stepping inside, you find a low table and floor cushions around the carpet. A wide window overlooks the pool of the main courtyard. "You are free to rest here," the attendant explains. "There are a change of clothes and a bath just through the door. When Her Illustrious Highness is ready for you, someone will escort you to the dining hall." [[Next.|chp6_31]]

You watch as the attendant takes her leave and with a slow breath, you take in the rest of the room. It is not nearly as ostentatious as the rest of the palace, but it is still richly decorated with a small door that leads into a separate chamber where you find a wide bath that has been set into the floor. As you turn away, you find yourself opening the drawers and wardrobes. Princess Lamahu has spared nothing for there are a plethora of outfits set out. Inside a drawer, you find jewellery similar to the locket $mama had and you cannot help but wonder once more about the relationship your mother has with Princess Lamahu. With some time still to go, you realise that how you dress tonight might leave an impression on Princess Lamahu and perhaps, might earn her favour in securing the alliance. Glancing at the clothes before you, you decide to wear... <<set $chp6_31 to 0>> [[...robes in the bright reds and gold of Ishari.|chp6_32][$chp6_31 +=1]] [[...robes in the dark blues that represent Cyre.|chp6_32][$chp6_31 +=2]] [[...robes that are brightly coloured and incorporate a combination of styles, like the attire worn in Vinia.|chp6_32][$chp6_31 +=3]]

<<if $chp6_31 is 1>> As you search through the materials and silks before you, your eyes drift to an elaborate robe. It consists of swathes of brightly dyed material, nearly as red as blood and accompanied by softer veils of lace, intricately woven with beads of gold and delicate embroidery. The robe is distinctly Ishari in its design, longer and flowing than most robes. You gaze at it, knowing that by wearing something in the colours of Ishari, it might show Princess Lamahu that you are supportive of the plight of the birthplace you left all those years ago. As you smooth your hand over the soft material, you nod to yourself. Wearing the Ishari styled robe tonight might help you secure the alliance. <<elseif $chp6_31 is 2>> As you search through the numerous clothes set out, you pull out a robe that is nestled in the back of the wardrobe as if discarded and forgotten. Pulling it out, you find the material is dyed in a dark blue, nearly black in colour. There are brightly woven beads of saphire, that line the edges of the soft cotton and you note the glimmer of gold in the belt that accompanies the outfit. The robe is cut narrower than most, much like the style worn in Cyre. There are few embellishments, but the dye used speaks of the quality and wealth needed to have sewn such a garment. Wearing something like this tonight might prove to Princess Lamahu that you are here to represent Cyre and the alliance that comes with supporting Prince Irus. Perhaps it is not a choice that might win Princess Lamahu's support but it certainly would show that you are serious in your task tonight. <<elseif $chp6_31 is 3>> In your time in Vinia, you grew fond of the patterns and cuts of garments that seemed to ignore the borders placed between regions. You draw a robe which is long and flowing, but cut narrowly around the chest and waist. The material is a combination of soft cotton and billowing swathes of netted lace that has been dyed a bright yellow, nearly gold under the light. You smooth your hands over the beading and know that by wearing something like this, you might be showing to Princess Lamahu that an alliance does not have to be directly centred around the war. Perhaps, when everything is over, Cyre and Ishari can move towards becoming great allies. <</if>> With your decision made, you decide to wash and prepare yourself for the feast with Princess Lamahu tonight. Your thoughts race on the possibilities of what might happen and beneath it, questions about your mother's conversation with Princess Lamahu weighs heavily on you. As you strip off your sweat clad tunic, you slip into the pool of water. It is cool against your skin and soothes the ache in your back, enough to draw away the tension of your thoughts. You wash your skin, grateful for the fragrant oils and soaps that perfume you and know that tonight will change the course of everything. [[Next.|chp6_33]]

<<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "chp6_end" loop play>><<set $location to "The Palace of Sangasu, Ishari.">><div class="timeline">The Palace of Sangasu.</div> It is evenining when you are finally escorted by a servant to a large chamber where a low table has been set up. There are no chairs, but soft cushions that have been placed around the table and when you enter, you realise that the rest of your companions have already taken their seats. Glancing at the table, you decide to sit... <<set $chp6_33 to 0>> [[...between Prince Irus and Queen Elora.|chp6_34][$chp6_33 +=1]] [[...besides Anu and Sir Oren.|chp6_34][$chp6_33 +=2]] [[...close to your mother.|chp6_34][$chp6_33 +=3]]

<<if $chp6_33 is 1>> Queen Elora and Prince Irus sit close to the head of the table and you suspect that it is because of their status. Despite being exiled, it seems that Princess Lamahu must regard Prince Irus with some respect for he has been placed directly beside the head of the table. As you make your way towards them, both Queen Elora and Prince Irus look up at you, casting you warm looks. They have both seemed have taken advantage of the new clothes and have bathed and dressed in what has been provided for by Princess Lamahu's hospitality. You settle onto the cushion, softer than it ought to be, and take in your companions' appearances. Queen Elora wears a brightly coloured dress and her dark curls have been left free tonight. To your left, Prince Irus wears a dark coat, nearly black in its colour that seems to make the blue of his eyes stand out in contrast. <<elseif $chp6_33 is 2>> Your feet carry you towards where you spot Anu and Sir Oren seated. They have been placed further from the head of the table, though it is only a few paces away from where Queen Elora and Prince Irus are seated. As you approach, Anu looks up at you, her grey eyes startling now that they have been lined with thick kohl. You sink onto the cushions, noting that Sir Oren has also bathed and changed his clothes. He wears a looser tunic now, not nearly as ornate as the armour he wore when you left Urur and his blade is absent from his hip. He smiles at you as you settle into the space between him and Anu and you use the quiet to take in your surroundings. The table has been set out with platters of sweetmeats and pitchers of fragrant wines, but it is Anu's grimace that draws your attention. As you turn to take in her fully, you find that she wears a red robe, deep in its colour and dark gold earrings glisten against her ears. She makes a face at you, turning away from your inspection, perhaps annoyed by the pomp of wearing something other than her normal garb. <<elseif $chp6_33 is 3>> Despite your companions already seated around the table, your eyes are drawn to $mama who sits close to the head of the table. You pause, your eyes taking in her appearance. She still wears her priestess robes, as if to remind those around her of her status. As you setlle onto the cushions, $mama turns to look at you. This close, you note the dark circles under her eyes. She seems tired, an exhaustion that comes from having to endure many things at once. Despite what you have learnt about $mama, you know that she too was a prisoner of the Blood Guard for some time. <<if $salyraRel gte 55>> $mama smiles at you, pleased that you are seated beside her. There is a warmth in her gaze that had been absent only a moment before and you find that the tension in her shoulders ease slightly. You are struck then, by her beauty. It is easy to see how many might follow $mama's words, without question. <<else>> $mama glances at you, as though uncertain how to respond. Your relationship has not been the best, not since you discovered her amongst the prisoners that you helped free. She swallows, wringing her hands together before turning away. It is odd to see her so defeated, especially when you have seen her sway others with merely a smile.<</if>> <</if>> [[Next.|chp6_35]]

Your thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of Princess Lamahu. She walks into the room, her attendants following closely behind. Swathes of gold and delicate material sit along her narrow frame. A tall crown sits against her dark hair, with fine jewels pressed into the gold metal. She gazes around the table, her eyes sharp as she takes in the faces of your companions and then, your mother. A smile pulls at her lips, but it does not meet her eyes. There is something distant in the way she regards your group, as though uncertain of your intentions or perhaps, uncertain of hers. "I see that you have all made use of the amenities granted to you," she states. "Allow me to properly welcome you to Sangasu. It is an honour to have you with us after what you have done for my people." "Some of us did more than others," Anu huffs, glancing at Prince Irus. Princess Lamahu glances at Anu, her smile tight. "All are welcome here, priestess. Let us not spoil the feast with animosity." She returns her attention to the rest of the table. "We shall feast tonight and you will be treated as guests here." "What about the alliance-" Prince Irus begins, but his words are cut off by a pointed look from Princess Lamahu. "There will be time to discuss your proposal soon," she replies. "For now, let us enjoy the feast." [[Next.|chp6_36]]

Attendants make their way into the chamber, carrying platters of richly spiced meats and fragrant vegetables. As the food is laid before you, you find Princess Lamahu's attention on you. Her dark eyes examine your expression, before they flick towards your choice in attire. <<if $chp6_31 is 1>> "I see that you have chosen to wear the colours of Ishari," she comments. "The colour suits you, but not many who grew up in Cyre would have chosen it." There is a note of condescension in her tone and her words draw your mother's attention towards the conversation. She purses her lips, her eyes narrowing at Princess Lamahu but the royal woman ignores her. Her appraisal of you is unwavering and you realise that she is waiting for a response. <<set $chp6_36 to 0>> [["I was born in Ishari," you answer, fixing her with a steely look.|chp6_37][$chp6_36 +=1]] [["I did not realise that the colours of Ishari could not be worn by those who come from other regions," you respond, frowning.|chp6_37][$chp6_36 +=2]] [["Make what you want of my choice, but I will not apologise for the upbringing I had," you reply.|chp6_37][$chp6_36 +=3]] [["I am proud of the heritage that is a part of me," you say.|chp6_37][$chp6_36 +=4]] <<elseif $chp6_31 is 2>> "I see that you wear the colours of Cyre tonight," Princess Lamahu murmurs. There is an edge in her voice, a sharpness that belies the serene expression on her face. "A dour thing, to be certain." Her words draw the attention of Prince Irus, who like you, has dressed in the dark colours of region he hails from. Princess Lamahu glances at him, her lips pressing into a frown before she returns her gaze onto you. You realise after a moment that she is expecting a response from you. <<set $chp6_36 to 0>> [["I grew up in Cyre," you reply, frowning. "It is more of a home than Ishari ever could be."|chp6_37][$chp6_36 +=5]] [["These robes were already in the chamber I was granted," you answer. "Perhaps you should remove any reminders of Cyre if the colour displeases you."|chp6_37][$chp6_36 +=6]] [["I enjoy the dark blue of Cyre," you murmur. "It reminds me of my father."|chp6_37][$chp6_36 +=7]] [["I will not cower from the colours of Cyre simply because of a futile war between the regions," you respond.|chp6_37][$chp6_36 +=8]] <<elseif $chp6_31 is 3>> "You wear garments in the style of the Vinian kingdom," Princess Lamahu remarks. She smiles, but it does not quell the hardness in her gaze. "Some would say that you can never truly live in peace when you have lost the heritage you possess." Her words draws the attention of Queen Elora. Across from her, you catch a flicker of a frown marring Sir Oren's expression. But Princess Lamahu ignores their stares. Her attention is on you, and with a startle, you realise that she is waiting for your response. <<set $chp6_36 to 0>> [["There is nothing wrong with embracing different cultures," you answer, frowning.|chp6_37][$chp6_36 +=9]] [["You sound as though you enjoy the divide caused by the war," you reply, raising an eyebrow.|chp6_37][$chp6_36 +=10]] [["Vinia is a kingdom that welcomes all, regardless of their differences," you say. "Perhaps you could learn something from that."|chp6_37][$chp6_36 +=11]] [["I do not care for Cyre or Ishari," you reply. "Vinia is where I feel most comfortable."|chp6_37][$chp6_36 +=12]]<</if>>

<<if $chp6_36 is 1>> "I was born in Ishari," you answer, fixing her with a steely look. Your voice is hard and you stare at Princess Lamahu, daring her to protest. Instead, she turns away, gesturing for an attendant to fill her goblet with wine. A moment passes when Princess Lamahu does not speak, her mouth busied by the wine she drinks. Eventually, she sighs, glancing at you over the rim of her goblet. "You were born in Ishari, yes," she agrees. "But simply being born in a land does not make you a part of it. You spent most of your life in Cyre." "What does that matter?" you ask. Princess Lamahu's grip on the goblet tightens. "What does it matter? It matters much to those who are condemned for their beliefs by the people you grew alongside." You frown, shaking your head but it is $mama who speaks. Princess Lamahu turns, finally acknowledging your mother for the first time that night. "Do not blame $name for what is not $MChis fault," $mama says. "We both know the reason for the war and it is not nearly as simple as you make it out to be." Princess Lamahu frowns. "Careful, Salyra. You are a close friend but even I cannot accept such brazeness from you." Your mother scoffs. "Do what you must, but I will not abide you making assumptions of my $heir." <<elseif $chp6_36 is 2>> "I did not realise that the colours of Ishari could not be worn by those who come from other regions," you respond, frowning. Princess Lamahu mirrors your frown, a breath leaving her lips. She turns away from your gaze, her attention on the goblet near her right hand. An observant attendant fills the metal cup with wine and Princess Lamahu nods in a wordless thanks, before draining the goblet of its contents. "There is no rule against it," Princess Lamahu answers, glancing at you. "We are not like those who would condemn us." Your eyebrows furrow. "Then why did you mention it?" A soft laugh escapes the woman and she turns away, eyeing the rest of those gathered around the table. When she finally meets your gaze once more, she smiles. Amusement dances in her dark eyes, but there is nothing friendly about the way she looks at you. It feels as if she sees you for the person you are and has decided that she does not like you. "Perhaps I wanted to test your loyalty to your mother," she answers. "Perhaps I was bored and merely wanted to amuse myself. You are a strange creature, $name. It is a pity you were hidden away for so long." "Enough," $mama interrupts. Her voice is dangerous and the look in her gaze would make even the most hardened to cower. But Princess Lamahu laughs, the sound light and unaffected by the glower on your mother's face. "You are always so protective, Salyra," she breathes. "Rest assured that I have no interest in your $heir." <<elseif $chp6_36 is 3>> "Make what you want of my choice, but I will not apologise for the upbringing I had," you reply. You stare at Princess Lamahu, your eyes hardening in the face of her gaze. She lets out a breath, as if your words have only amused her. Glancing away, Princess Lamahu brings a goblet to her lips, draining it of its contents before she deigns to respond. "I do not expect you apologise for the life you have led," she answers. "It is not like you had much choice in the decisions that led you to where you are." Her words send a sliver of confusion through you and you frown, your forehead creasing as you try to make sense of what Princess Lamahu is telling you. It is true that you would never have left Salt Bay were it not for the Blood Guard's arrival, but as you gaze at Princess Lamahu, you cannot push away the thought that there is something that she is keeping from you. "I see that it perplexes you," Princess Lamahu remarks. "Has your upbringing rendered you so blind to what is all around you?" "$name grew up in Cyre," $mama says, frowning. "You cannot expect $MChim to have the same knowledge as those who grew up in the temples and in our lands." Princess Lamahu offers you a pitying smile. "Ah yes, you did grow up without the guidance of our elders. Forgive me, $name." But there is nothing contrite in her tone or the way that she stares at you. <<elseif $chp6_36 is 4>> "I am proud of the heritage that is a part of me," you say. There is a conviction in your voice that seems to take Princess Lamahu by surprise. She turns away from your gaze, her attention on the goblet of wine, clutched between her fingers. As if mulling your reply, she brings the goblet to her mouth and drinks deeply, before finally regarding you with an unreadable expression. "So you say," she replies. You frown in response. "You think that I am not?" She shrugs. "I think that you believe that you are proud of your heritage, but you grew up in Cyre. How can you be proud of something that you do not truly understand?" Her response leaves you struggling to breathe and your eyes narrow. It would seem that no matter where you are, your upbringing has made you an outcast and you will always be considered as such by those like Princess Lamahu. "$name is innocent in all of this," $mama breathes. "Do not take your anger out on $MChim." "I suppose I could blame you, Salyra," Princess Lamahu sighs. "But that would be a futile endeavour for I have long since forgiven your transgressions." <<elseif $chp6_36 is 5>> "I grew up in Cyre," you reply, frowning. "It is more of a home than Ishari ever could be." Princess Lamahu arches a dark eyebrow at you, her lips widening into a cold smile. You shift uneasily, suddenly aware of the way a bead of sweat rolls your back. It is too hot and your breathing becomes tight. Princess Lamahu finally looks away and you exhale sharply. "Yes, Cyre is more your home than Ishari," she agrees. "You grew up there and you adopted the customs. Tell me, do you also condemn our people?" You frown in irritation. "I do not. Why would you ask such a thing?" Princess Lamahu shrugs. "Many of our people have reacted to the war by turning their backs on our people and heritage. There are some who have even joined the ranks of the Blood Guard." Your eyes widen and you are reminded of Morden, the man who slew your father the night you fled Salt Bay. Princess Lamahu's smile widens and you realise that your reaction is exactly the one she sought from you. "That is enough," $mama interrupts. "$name has been in Cyre for years. You cannot fault $MChim for how $MChe feels." Princess Lamahu glances at your mother, shrugging. "I suppose not." <<elseif $chp6_36 is 6>> "These robes were already in the chamber I was granted," you answer. "Perhaps you should remove any reminders of Cyre if the colour displeases you." Your words elicit a sharp laugh from Princess Lamahu. The others turn to stare at her, but do not dare say anything. Her laughter eventually eases and when she regards you, there is a genuine amusement in her gaze. "And do you think reminders of Cyre displease me?" she asks. You frown. "You seem unimpressed by my attire." She waves her hand for an attendant, turning away for a moment. A goblet of wine is placed in her grasp and drinks deeply, before sighing. When Princess Lamahu looks at you, the mirth is gone and instead, she regards you with the intensity of a viper about to strike. "I am unimpressed by the colour," she answers. "It does not suit you nearly as well as you think it does." Your disbelief must be evident on your face because Princess Lamahu scoffs, irritation flaring in her eyes. She turns away from you, glancing at Prince Irus for a moment before returning her attention to you. "You wear the colours of the enemy," she states. "It says more about you than you care to know." "Enough," $mama breathes. Her lips are pursed. "It is only attire. Must you find an argument in everything that reminds you of-" "You are my friend, Salyra," Princess Lamahu interrupts. "So I will not warn you again on your place here." $mama frowns, but after a moment, nods. Satisfied by your mother's response, Princess Lamahu lets out a breath, as though drained by the entire conversation. <<elseif $chp6_36 is 7>> "I enjoy the dark blue of Cyre," you murmur. "It reminds me of my father." You think of Ahlf and his stoic nature. He was not the most talkative of parents in Salt Bay, but for a long time, he was all you had. When he died, a part of your childhood died too and wearing the blue robes of Cyre reminds you of the long days at sea with Ahlf. "Your Cyrene father," Princess Lamahu replies, her eyes flashing with darkness. Your eyebrows furrow. "Yes. He was from Cyre." Princess Lamahu signals to one of her attendants and a gleaming goblet is placed in her outstretched hand. She turns away from you, drinking deeply from her goblet before she regards you. A strange look flickers through her eyes and she frowns. "Your mother always had poor taste in men," Princess Lamahu states. "If it was not enemies then it was lovesick fools." "That is enough," $mama interjects. "Ahlf was not an enemy." A laugh escapes Princess Lamahu. "He was, Salyra. We both know that well." She shakes her head, glancing at you. "A pity that he is not here to remind your mother of the truth of her past. Perhaps in her old age, she has forgotten her oaths." <<elseif $chp6_36 is 8>> "I will not cower from the colours of Cyre simply because of a futile war between the regions," you respond. Princess Lamahu arches a dark eyebrow at you, as if unimpressed by the vehemence in your voice. She draws a goblet to her mouth, drinking deeply of its contents before she gazes at you. There is a hardness in the corners of her mouth, pressing her lips together until she is frowning. "I would not call the senseless death of my people futile," she responds. "The war might seem futile to you, $name, but I can assure you that we are not the ones who continue it." She turns, her dark eyes shifting towards Prince Irus. He stiffens under her gaze and uncertainty flickers through his face. Princess Lamahu must have found what she sought out because she is suddenly looking at you once more, her eyes narrowed. "This war may be senseless, but it is not without its cause," Princess Lamahu breathes. "There are many things that have contributed to its continuation, but it is the scourge of the Blood Guard that makes it one that cannot be so easily forgiven." Her words are barbed, like the threat of an endless and bloody battle that you know will ensue if peace between Ishari and Cyre is not secured. From the way Princess Lamahu gazes at you, you cannot dislodge the thought that perhaps it is exactly what she wants. <<elseif $chp6_36 is 9>> "There is nothing wrong with embracing different cultures," you answer, frowning. Princess Lamahu's lips peel back into a smile, her teeth glinting in the glimmer of the flickering oil lamps. She turns away from you, her eyes taking in the rest of your companions with the ease of a beast who strolls through the forest. "There is nothing wrong with it," she agrees. "But do you see any of our people being embraced by those in Cyre? Tell me, $name, what was your life like in Cyre?" You stiffen under her glare. A swirl of uneasiness at the reminder of your childhood comes flooding back like a tidal wave. You exhale sharply and Princess Lamahu's grin widens. There is a sharpness in her expression much like the look of someone about deliver a strike of a dagger. "You speak of embracing the different cultures, but did you know that the Kingdom of Vinia also trades with Cyre?" Princess Lamahu asks. "In fact, Vinia has not allied itself with us. Accepting a few of our people is not the same as taking up arms against the true threat." "That is an unfair assessment," Queen Elora interjects. Her eyes are narrowed and her fingers clutch tightly at the table. "You know that we have remained neutral for years." Princess Lamahu glances at Queen Elora, unimpressed by her words. Drawing a goblet of wine to her lips, Princess Lamahu drinks deeply. She seems to take great pleasure in making those around her wait for her response. When she finally glances in Queen Elora's direction, it is with disdain. "Neutrality will not save your people," Princess Lamahu murmurs. "I suppose that is why you are here then. After all, everything changes when the kingdom you have been trading with threatens you." <<elseif $chp6_36 is 10>> "You sound as though you enjoy the divide caused by the war," you reply, raising an eyebrow. Your words draw a startled laugh from Princess Lamahu, as though she is as uncertain with her response as she is with your words. A frown settles over your mouth as you regard her. Her laughter eases and she turns to the goblet of wine, before raising it to her lips. She drinks deeply, as though you are great friends that have shared a jest. "Perhaps I do enjoy the division of the regions," she breathes. "After all, those in Cyre would like to believe that we are akin to headless fowls without their aid." Her lips twist and she turns to look at you. A hardness flickers through her dark eyes and she examines you, as if deciding then that she does not enjoy what she sees before her. Shaking her head, Princess Lamahu averts her eyes, the frown on her mouth deepening. "The war has gone on for much longer than you know, $name," she mutters. "Promises to end it amounted to nothing. There are those who sought to end it through peace and yet, they failed." "You cannot continue to dwell on the past," $mama interrupts. She frowns, gazing at Princess Lamahu with a strange combination of sorrow and remorse. Princess Lamahu sighs, finally meeting $mama's eyes. Something unspoken passes between them and then, Princess Lamahu is looking away, the visible anger on her expression fading into hurt. "This divide is not my own doing," Princess Lamahu murmurs. "It never was mine alone." <<elseif $chp6_36 is 11>> "Vinia is a kingdom that welcomes all, regardless of their differences," you say. "Perhaps you could learn something from that." Princess Lamahu tilts her head, regarding you with the cunning appraisal of someone who is able to see past the facade of deception. She smiles a moment later, but the expression in her eyes is unkind. It leaves you unsettled and wanting to flee from the intensity of her gaze. "It is an idealistic notion you carry," Princess Lamahu replies. "You have been in Vinia long then?" You frown. "I have been there for a few weeks and-" Princess Lamahu laughs, her voice high and loud as it pierces through your words. You frown at her amusement of your response. Vinia is welcoming to those who are different. You still remember the oddness of being able to walk through the streets without garnering stares from those around you. "You speak of the little that you know," Princess Lamahu replies. "Perhaps you are unaware of the hardships faced by those who are born without wealth and status? Go on, ask the leader who sits amongst us." Your eyebrows furrow and you turn towards Queen Elora. She does not speak for a moment, her eyes hardening as she glowers at Princess Lamahu. You glance at Sir Oren and find him staring at the table, his lips pursed. Is Princess Lamahu speaking the truth? "You see, $name," Princess Lamahu speaks. "It is easy enough to welcome refugees and claim to be accepting of differences, but you have not seen those who are trodden on simply because of their status. Vinia is a home to many, but only if you are wealthy enough to afford their respect." <<elseif $chp6_36 is 12>> "I do not care for Cyre or Ishari," you reply. "Vinia is where I feel most comfortable." You think about Ama and Uncle Belahm. A small smile slips over your lips when you recall your last moments with Zikar and the swell in your Aunt Yara's stomach. You have a family in Vinia, a family who has accepted you, regardless of your past. Neither Cyre nor Ishari seems very accepting of you. "I see," Princess Lamahu responds. "You seem to prefer the ease of a neutral kingdom to one that fights against its attackers." You frown in response, irritation flaring within you at Princess Lamahu's words. She gazes at you with an unimpressed expression. Whatever she sees must displease her greatly because she turns away, her attention on the goblet of wine clutched in her grasp. Princess Lamahu drinks deeply from the goblet, ignoring the way the rest of you look at her. "That is not true," you hiss. When she speaks, it is with a bored tone. "It does not matter, $name. What matters is that you have proclaimed that you care not for the region that is your birthplace." "Enough," your mother interrupts. Her eyes are hard as she gazes at Princess Lamahu. "You cannot hold what $name has said against $MChim. Is it so wrong to consider a peaceful region home or has your hatred blinded you to your own actions?" Princess Lamahu huffs out a breath, frowning at $mama. "I could ask you the same, Salyra. Perhaps you have forgotten your place. You may be the High Priestess, but you are hardly in charge of what I decide." <</if>> [[Next.|chp6_38]]

There is a lull in the conversation; the tension mounting until it becomes almost unbearable to remain where you sit. Your companions are quiet, their faces drawn by what you have heard and a glance at Princess Lamahu suggests that she is not nearly as unbothered as she first appeared. She sighs, a tired sound. "Enough of this. We are here to feast and the cooks have spent much time in creating the dishes before us. Eat, drink and be merry. Any talk of an alliance will wait for when our bellies are full and our words are sweetened with honey." No one moves, despite Princess Lamahu's words. The food laid out before you must be cold by now. A frown pulls at Princess Lamahu's lips, her frustration evident when none of you begin eating. It is $mama who stands, drawing the attention of those around you. "This feast is to celebrate the freedom of our people who were valiantly rescued by Anu, a devout priestess and warrior." $mama trails off, glancing at you. Her eyes are wet, but she blinks back the tears that threaten to overwhelm her. "And my $heir, $name. No matter what may come, I am only grateful to know that you are close to me once again." Her words are strained, as though $mama is fighting back a sob. As you take in her expression, the softness of her gaze and the trembling of her lower lip, you... <<set $chp6_38 to 0>> [[...are filled with the warmth of affection of your mother's love for you.|chp6_39][$chp6_38 +=1]] [[...wipe at your eyes, feeling the familiar prickle of tears gathering there from knowing that it is too late to mend your relationship.|chp6_39][$chp6_38 +=2]] [[...scowl at your mother, wanting nothing more to do with her.|chp6_39][$chp6_38 +=3]] [[...avert your gaze from your mother, uncertain how to feel about her words.|chp6_39][$chp6_38 +=4]] [[...meet her gaze with an impassive expression. Her words do not elicit any strong emotion in you.|chp6_39][$chp6_38 +=5]]

<<if $chp6_38 is 1>> The swell of warmth fills you until you are gazing at your mother with a smile. She meets your eyes, returning your smile and for a moment, it is like you are a child again, nestled against $mama's embrace. The thought leaves you breathless and you cannot look away, afraid that if you do, you will realise it is just a dream. But as you gaze at $mama, the dread of her disappearing when you blink, slowly eases. She is here, you remind yourself and this time, you intend on never losing sight of her again. <<elseif $chp6_38 is 2>> Your chest tightens as you meet your mother's gaze. There is warmth in her expression, a fondness that you know she must truly feel for you. And yet, as you take in the sincerity of her gaze, you cannot help the twist of sorrow that tugs at you. Your eyes burn and you wipe at them, suddenly reminded of the time apart from your mother. Nothing will ever be the same again and no amount of words can resolve the time that passed between you and $mama. You are not the same child she used to hold and she is not the woman you remember singing to you. $mama has another family here, a life built without you. You cannot bring yourself to accept her actions, no matter her reasons. <<elseif $chp6_38 is 3>> Your eyes narrow as the scowl on your lips pulls heavily at your mouth. $mama swallows, a breath escaping her. The soft expression on her face gives way to anguish when she takes the bitter resentment in your posture. You can never forgive her for what she has done and no amount of empty words of praise will mend the broken relationship between you. $mama is the first to look away, her finger trembling and her breathing sharp. You almost laugh at the sorrow she seems to feel. Does she not realise that you felt pain far worse than she has when she abandoned you all those years ago? <<elseif $chp6_38 is 4>> You cannot meet the hopefulness in your mother's gaze, not when there is so much that rests that upon that simple gesture. There has been little time to make sense of your feelings and thoughts since discovering that your mother has a life in Ishari. You need time to think through everything, without the insistence of your mother's words and looks. Staring at the table before you, you refuse to meet your mother's gaze and you hear her sigh, the sound defeated. Accepting her affection now would mean forgetting the pain that accompanied your childhood, an enduring and heavy thing that has never truly left you. <<elseif $chp6_38 is 5>> You wish to feel something, like anger or happiness but as you meet your mother's eyes, you feel nothing but hollowness. It swells until your chest is cold and your mind becomes numb to the thoughts that plague you whenever you think of $mama. $mama lets out a breath, her eyes filling with grief when she realises that you are unresponsive to her words. She looks away first, her fingers trembling at her sides. Perhaps a better person might have felt pity for her sorrowful appearance, but you can muster no strong emotions in response to your mother's actions. Years of her absence seems to have left you unable to feel as deeply as she expects of you. <</if>> "Thank you for the words, Salyra," Princess Lamahu says, drawing your mother's gaze. "Let us not tarry any longer. You are here to enjoy a feast and I would have hoped to have started eating much earlier." Your mother nods, taking her seat once more. The tension that had filled the air only moments ago seems to have dispersed into the shadowy corners of the chamber. With your attention now on the platters of spiced vegetables and fragrant oils, you feel your stomach twist in hunger. With little left to do but eat, you begin to partake in the feast. [[Next.|chp6_40]]

For a moment, you are struck by the richness of the meal before you. There are trays stacked with flat bread, dripping in oils and beads of aromatic spices. On your left, you find a platter of roasted vegetables, coated in herbs and braised in a gravy the reminds you of the cooking you experienced when you visited your family in the Ishari District. <<if $MC_veg is true>> You begin to eat, enjoying the way the flat bread tears in your fingers, the softness of it tearing under your teeth. The spices burn your tongue, but they do not hamper the rich flavours that fill you with warmth and a feeling of fullness. You eat until you can eat no more, the pang in your stomach disappearing with every mouthful.<<elseif $MC_pes is true>> There are trays of grilled fish, smoky and flaky as you bite into the flesh of its body. Oils coat your tongue, dripping with spices and herbs that reminds you of a time when all you ate was fish with Ahlf in the small cottage you shared. You eat until the hunger in your stomach is quelled, feeling the beginnings of fullness.<<else>> You eat from each tray around you, tasting the curried meats and then, biting into the softness of the flat breads. Herbs and oils drip against your lips, staining your tongue with flavour. The more you eat, the more you are reminded of Ama's cooking and the thought is enough to warm you from within. Soon, the beginnings of your hunger ease until you are certain that you cannot take another bite. <</if>> There is a lull in the ferocity of your appetite and you gaze at the table, taking in the rest of your companions. Anu eats with wild abandon, ignoring those around her and Sir Oren keeps looking around him, as if preparing for an attack. Turning towards Prince Irus, you find a uneasy expression on his face as he stares at the table, while Queen Elora glances at Princess Lamahu with a frown. <<set $chp6_40 to 0>><<set $chp6_40_a to false>><<set $chp6_40_b to false>><<set $chp6_40_c to false>><<set $chp6_40_d to false>> [[Prince Irus' frown makes you turn towards him.|chp6_40a][$chp6_40 +=1, $chp6_40_a to true]] [[Your eyes are drawn to Queen Elora and her silence.|chp6_40b][$chp6_40 +=1, $chp6_40_b to true]] [[It is Sir Oren that attracts your attention.|chp6_40c][$chp6_40 +=1, $chp6_40_c to true]] [[Anu catches your gaze and raises an eyebrow.|chp6_40d][$chp6_40 +=1, $chp6_40_d to true]]

You turn so that you are facing Prince Irus. His eyes are distant, his gaze fixed on the table before him. For a moment, you examine his expression, noting the doubt that fills his blue eyes and the way his lips pull lower, his frown deepening with his thoughts. Prince Irus sighs and when he looks up, he startles under you attention. "$name," he murmurs. A moment passes before Prince Irus sighs. "I am sorry but I do not think that I will be much of a conversationalist tonight." Your forehead creases. "What do you mean?" He lowers his voice, his eyes flicking towards Princess Lamahu before he reutrns his attention to you. "I cannot stop thinking about the alliance. It seems that Princess Lamahu is unimpressed by me." <<set $chp6_40a to 0>> [["You have proven to be resilient," you answer. "She would be a fool not to accept an alliance with you."|chp6_40a1][$chp6_40a +=1]] [["Do not let her antics get in the way of your goals," you instruct. "You have come too far to lose courage now."|chp6_40a1][$chp6_40a +=2]] [["You will not win her trust if you continue to cower like a child," you huff. "Hold your head high and perhaps she will be impressed by the man you have become."|chp6_40a1][$chp6_40a +=3]]

You are accustomed to quietness of Queen Elora's appraisal of things, but her silence tonight is far different to what you know of her. She sits stiffly, as if refraining from speaking her thoughts aloud for fear of being condemned. When she turns, meeting your gaze, she smiles and for a moment, the facade of a queen in control fades and is replaced by the woman you have come to know. "$name," she says, her voice soft. "Why do you look at me like that?" Your eyebrows furrow. "Like what?" She laughs, a light and airy sound but it does not reach her eyes. "As if I am the queen and you are nothing more than a loyal subject." <<set $chp6_40b to 0>> [["Perhaps it is because you are unrecognisable in your silence," you murmur.|chp6_40b1][$chp6_40b +=1]] [["You are a queen," you answer, shrugging. "And while I may not be a citizen of Vinia, you can consider me a loyal subject."|chp6_40b1][$chp6_40b +=2]] [["Whatever loyalty you see in my is a delusionment on your part," you retort. "We both know that I am not a subject of your kingdom."|chp6_40b1][$chp6_40b +=3]]

Sir Oren's hazel eyes lift from his meal, taking in the rest of the room. Despite being out of armour, it seems that his attention to his surroundings has not been forgotten. When you turn towards him, he blinks, as if surprised by your presence. "What are you looking for?" you ask, curious. A sheepish look passes through his eyes and he looks at the table. "You must think me paranoid but I cannot stop from looking for signs of danger." "Danger?" you question. A glimmer of remorse flashes through his eyes. For a moment, he does not speak, his gaze on his hands that grip the edge of the low table. You study his expression, uncertain what the source of his guilt might be. "The banquet in Aspal has weighed on me heavily," he explains. "Then, when we found Redall's barge under attack, it felt as if everything was repeating itself. I am the Captain of the Royal Vinian Guards and I failed to protect those I pledged my life to." <<set $chp6_40c to 0>> [["You cannot blame yourself for what happened," you reassure him.|chp6_40c1][$chp6_40c +=1]] [["There are many things that can be learnt from your failures," you reply. "Learn from them and I am certain that you will prevail when it matters the most."|chp6_40c1][$chp6_40c +=2]] [["Stop moping over what happened," you scoff. "You cannot change the past but you can better yourself for the dangers ahead."|chp6_40c1][$chp6_40c +=3]]

As you gaze at Anu, you notice the way her grey eyes dance with something akin to mirth, as if daring you to say something. You are surprised by her sudden amusement, the first sign in the night that she might be enjoying herself despite the tension in the room. "What is it, $name?" she asks. "Have you never seen someone eat?" Your eyebrows furrow and you shake your head. "That is not-" "You were staring," she interrupts. "It is rude to watch someone so closely when they eat." <<set $chp6_40d to 0>> [["I... no," you mumble. "I did not mean to stare."|chp6_40d1][$chp6_40d +=1]] [["You eat as if it is your first meal in days," you remark, gazing at her.|chp6_40d1][$chp6_40d +=2]] [["The only rude thing about this is your poor table manners," you mutter.|chp6_40d1][$chp6_40d +=3]]

<<if $chp6_40a is 1>> "You have proven to be resilient," you answer. "She would be a fool not to accept an alliance with you." There has been far too much bloodshed on both sides of the regions. With Virion sitting on the throne, you know that it is only a matter of time before he extends his control to the regions around him. Refusing the proposed alliance now would mean that Ishari would be without allies. Prince Irus sighs, glancing away. "Foolish or not, she seems bothered by my presence." "That is to be expected," you murmur. "Your father started the war all those years ago, Irus. I do not think Princess Lamahu knows how to react to you being your father's son." Nodding in response, Prince Irus casts a look towards you. A flicker of a smile pulls at the corner of his lips and for a brief moment, the tension in his gaze eases until he seems lighter, like his usual self. But the tension returns a moment later, when his gaze settles on Princess Lamahu. <<elseif $chp6_40a is 2>> "Do not let her antics get in the way of your goals," you instruct. "You have come too far to lose courage now." The hardships that you and Prince Irus endured throughout your journey have made the task before you even more difficult. Too many have suffered at the hands of the Blood Guard for Prince Irus to lose hope now that he has finally met Princess Lamahu. You can only hope that your words can raise his spirits. Prince Irus sighs, looking at you. "She does not trust me. When she looks at me, it is as if I am her enemy." You glance at Princess Lamahu and remember what you learnt about the war. Before King Erlan formed the Blood Guard, it seemed as if Princess Lamahu and King Erlan had been close. Perhaps, with Prince Irus here, she is reminded of what she believes to be a betrayal of the greatest form. "You remind her of your father," you breathe. "But you are not him, Irus. And you will need to prove that you are willing to form a lasting alliance with her." Prince Irus nods at you, a determined glint forming in his eyes. "You are right, $name. I am not my father and perhaps, after tonight, I will no longer be an enemy to the rest of Ishari." <<elseif $chp6_40a is 3>> "You will not win her trust if you continue to cower like a child," you huff. "Hold your head high and perhaps she will be impressed by the man you have become." Prince Irus' eyes widen at your tone, perhaps not truly expecting the harshness in your voice or the stern expression on your face. But he can no longer cower, not when you are far from Vinia and the threat of his uncle hangs heavy in the air. Prince Irus looks away first, his expression taut with tension and indecision. "She only sees me as the enemy," he breathes. "I do not think that even if I tried, I would be able to convince her otherwise." You frown. "You are seated at her table and none have dared threaten you with imprisonment. She may see you as your father's son, but if she were to truly treat you as an enemy, I do not think that she would have let you join her tonight." Prince Irus exhales sharply, his blue eyes shifting towards Princess Lamahu as she speaks to your mother. A wry look makes its way intp his gaze and he barks out a breathy laugh, the sound hollow. "I do not know whether I should be honoured or insulted if this is how she treats potential allies," Prince Irus mutters. He runs a hand through his hair, frowning. "I will do what I must to secure the alliance, even if it means dealing with Princess Lamahu's hatred." <</if>> Prince Irus drinks from his goblet, glancing at you over the rim. When he draws the wine away, he gazes at you and then, towards your mother. "How are things with your mother now?" he asks. "It seems that she shares a history with Princess Lamahu." You think about the words exchanged and the strange, silent looks that your mother and Princess Lamahu shared. Your mother claimed that they were old friends, but you do not know anything about the nature of their friendship nor do you know what to make of the thinly veiled animosity between them. <<set $chp6_40a1 to 0>> [["I do not know what they are hiding, but I know that it is something important," you murmur.|chp6_40a2][$chp6_40a1 +=1]] [["My mother has kept secrets from me," you breathe. "And I intend on uncovering them."|chp6_40a2][$chp6_40a1 +=2]] [["They are old friends," you reply. "Perhaps this is how they have always been."|chp6_40a2][$chp6_40a1 +=3]] [["I have no interest in my mother or her strange friendship with Princess Lamahu," you grunt.|chp6_40a2][$chp6_40a1 +=4]]

<<if $chp6_40a1 is 1>> "I do not know what they are hiding, but I know that it is something important," you murmur. Your mind is filled with questions, each one leading to a new possibility of what your mother and Princess Lamahu might be hiding. It is evident by the way they whisper in low tones and the deepening frown on $mama's mouth that whatever they share, it is unpleasant for the both of them. Prince Irus follows your gaze, his eyebrows furrowing when he takes in Princess Lamahu and your mother. "You are right," he replies. "It seems that they are aware of something the we are not. I only hope that it will not hamper our chance at securing the alliance." You glance at Prince Irus, realising that the secrets kept between Princess Lamahu and $mama, weigh heavily on him. It has been all too easy to have forgotten your true reason for coming to Ishari when so much has happened since you found your mother. You cannot help the niggling doubt that creeps up your spine and can only hope that you are wrong to worry. <<elseif $chp6_40a1 is 2>> "My mother has kept secrets from me," you breathe. "And I intend on uncovering them." You have spent two decades apart from your mother and in that time, much has happened. Your mother's past haunts you. Her actions taken when you were not there to witness it has left you with a thousand questions and it seems that no matter what you ask, you are never truly given a clear answer. As you take in your mother's frown and the way Princess Lamahu speaks to her in low, hushed whispers, you cannot deny that there is something that your mother has kept hidden from you. You are still uncertain how she became imprisoned and more than that, you do not know the true nature of the supposed friendship she shares with Princess Lamahu. "$name," Prince Irus calls. His eyebrows are furrowed and his lips pressed into a frown of concern. "Perhaps some things are better left uncovered. It would seem that the things your mother keeps from you is a great burden." You shake your head. Prince Irus might have sympathetic intentions but he cannot understand the depth of your feelings. How can you truly let the past remain in the past? You need to know the truth and you will not stop until you discover what it is that your mother keeps from you. "I need to know what she hides, Irus," you answer. "Even if it might hurt me in the process." <<elseif $chp6_40a1 is 3>> "They are old friends," you reply. "Perhaps this is how they have always been." You do not want to make a judgment of your mother's friendship with Princess Lamahu, not when there are so many questions that still linger in the back of your mind. Princess Lamahu might be the ruler of Ishari, but from the way she talks to your mother, it is difficult to see how your mother has not had a say in the nature of Princess Lamahu's governence. They talk like old friends, though you do not know what old friends might look like. Ahlf never seemed to have friends and you suspect that any of his old friends deserted him the moment he met $mama. The longer you gaze at $mama, the clearer it becomes that there is much that you are unaware of regarding your mother's friendship. "You are right," Prince Irus murmurs. "We do not Princess Lamahu well enough to know if this is how she always is." He glances at you, a silent question in his eyes. You meet his gaze, not needing to hear his voice to know the question in his mind. Prince Irus seeks guidance on your mother's actions, but you are uncertain how to respond. You know only what you can recall from your childhood and the woman then is not the woman you see before you. "It is hard to know what my mother is like around others," you breathe. "I know so little of her life here in Ishari." Prince Irus nods at you, glancing away for a moment. When he speaks, his voice is low. "I suppose we can only hope then that it will not affect the success of the alliance." <<elseif $chp6_40a1 is 4>> "I have no interest in my mother or her strange friendship with Princess Lamahu," you grunt Your voice comes out bitter, a warning growl of a beast about to bite. Prince Irus glances at you, a flicker of understanding in his blue eyes. A breath leaves your lips and with it, some of the tension that formed along your shoulders slips away. You cast a look at your mother and Princess Lamahu. They speak in hushed voices and it is clear from the pinched expression on your mother's face that she is displeased. You push away the thought and the incessant voice that tells you that she is keeping secrets from you. "I do not fault you for not wanting to know more," Prince Irus murmurs. "I... I do not think I would have been able to sit so easily in the same room if I were to be confronted by my own mother." His voice is low and his eyes heavy with sorrow and anger. It is a familiar look, one that you have become keenly aware of in yourself. For most of your life, there has always been an underlying grief, a pain that formed into a hard stone and lodged itself deep in your chest. It is clear from the dark expression on Prince Irus' face that he has felt it too. "After a while, it is like she is not even there," you lie, glancing at your mother. Prince Irus smiles at you, but it does not ease the grief in his eyes. It would seem that he has caught you out on your lie but he does not voice his thoughts, instead, looking at the table once again. <</if>> [[Next.|chp6_40a3]]

You lapse into silence then, the only sounds coming from the low din around you. Prince Irus glances at you, his eyes taking in your features. In the low light of the evening, it is hard to deny his attractiveness. The darkness of his attire fits him well and for a moment, he looks like the king you know he will become. "$name," he breathes. "No matter what happens tonight, I want to thank you." You raise an eyebrow. "Thank me for what?" He smiles, glancing around you both. "Everything. When your father promised his aid, I did not think that I would have met a companion like you.<<if $irus_lock is true>> I did not think that I would ever feel like this for another person, yet, it comes so easy with you.<<else>> You have proven to be loyal and courageous and without you, I never would have come this far.<</if>>" Prince Irus' words are spoken softly, nearly a whisper. But you hear him and the sincerity in his tone. There is a gentle expression in his gaze, one that leaves you strangely light. <<set $chp6_40a3 to 0>> [["You are my friend, Irus," you answer with a smile. "And I will do everything that it takes to help you succeed."|chp6_40a4][$chp6_40a3 +=1, $irusRel +=5]] [["I... your acceptance of me, despite my heritage is something that I will never forget," you murmur. "You have helped me more than you will ever know."|chp6_40a4][$irusRel +=5, $chp6_40a3 +=2]] [["It was nothing," you answer. "I was only doing what I knew had to be done."|chp6_40a4][$chp6_40a3 +=3, $irusRel +=5]] [["I do not need your thanks," you mutter, uncomfortable by his praise.|chp6_40a4][$chp6_40a3 +=4]] <<if $irus_lock is true>> [[♡"I care deeply for you, Irus," you murmur. "Sometimes, it is hard to breathe because my chest swells until I am certain that it will burst. You have given me your heart and I want you to know that you have mine as well."|chp6_40a4][$chp6_40a3 +=5, $irusRom +=5, $irusRel +=5]] [[♡"There is no need to thank me, Irus," you tease. "You know that I will follow you to the end of time if you asked."|chp6_40a4][$chp6_40a3 +=6, $irusRom +=5, $irusRel +=5]]<</if>>

<<if $chp6_40a3 is 1>> "You are my friend, Irus," you answer with a smile. "And I will do everything that it takes to help you succeed." As the words leave your lips, you find that they are true. In the few months that you have spent with Prince Irus, you have quickly become closer than you thought would be possible. You have endured more together than you have endured with anyone else and in despite hardships, your bond has only strengthened. A warm smile pulls at Prince Irus' mouth and he regards you with fondness. The sight of his expression causes warmth to spread through you, as though you are being cradled by sunlight. You never thought that a friendship with the exiled prince was possible but as you take in Prince Irus' expression, you know that you have formed a lasting relationship with him. "I... thank you, $name," Prince Irus replies. "You are kinder to me than those I once considered to be my friends." You offer him a grin. "They were fools then to treat you unkindly. I know that you will be a good king and I will be at your side no matter what might come." <<elseif $chp6_40a3 is 2>> "I... your acceptance of me, despite my heritage is something that I will never forget," you murmur. "You have helped me more than you will ever know." Your throat tightens as you gaze at Prince Irus. He has been kinder to you than many you have known, perhaps more than you thought would be possible from the son of King Erlan. Despite his parentage, Prince Irus has never treated you any differently simply because of your Ishari blood. Perhaps that is enough of a sign that he will be a different king than his father was. Prince Irus' eyes widen at your words and for a moment, he does not respond. He looks away, visibly swallowing and you take in the soft smile that slips over his lips. It is a strange feeling, knowing that you have shared so much with Prince Irus already. In a way, he is the first person to have known you at your worst and still accepted you throughout it all. "It is funny," he breathes. "That is what I think of you. When I was exiled, those I went to for aid, treated me as though I was the vilest of enemies. You were the only one who remained with me, even when you did not have to." You smile, your chest tightening at the gratitude in his voice. Finding a connection like the one you share with Prince Irus is something that you have never truly felt before. There is much in common between you and it has made understanding each other an easy task, despite the differences in your upbringing. "Whatever happens, I will be here," you respond. <<elseif $chp6_40a3 is 3>> "It was nothing," you answer. "I was only doing what I knew had to be done." You are uncomfortable with his praise, especially when you had only been doing what you needed to in order to survive. Fleeing from the Blood Guard meant casting aside any thoughts about your travelling companion and working together. You aided him because you knew that you would never have survived alone. Prince Irus glances at you, his forehead creasing as he considers your response. You look away, not wanting to meet his gaze. Perhaps he has mistaken your relationship for something more amiable than you are comfortable with. "Regardless of your motivations, I would have perished without your help," Prince Irus replies. He smiles at you. "Thank you, $name." <<elseif $chp6_40a3 is 4>> "I do not need your thanks," you mutter, uncomfortable by his praise. His words leave you feeling uncertain of yourself and perhaps because of your uncertainty, a hint of irritation flares within you. Prince Irus is the son of King Erlan, yet you have shared more with him than you have shared with anyone else. It is only natural then that he must feel so strongly about your role in his journey. Prince Irus looks away, his shoulders sagging somewhat from your response.<<if $irusRel lte 49>> You have not always had the best of relationships so it should come as no surprise to him that you are being curt with him now.<<else>> Your relationship is not always so hostile, but his words have left you feeling uncomfortable and tense and it seems to come as a surprise to the prince.<</if>> "No," Prince Irus breathes. "I suppose you do not." You turn away from his gaze, not wanting to spend more time discussing the nature of his gratitude for you. The actions that you took were necessary to ensure your surival and to ensure that Virion does not succeed in defeating those who dare oppose him. Prince Irus sighs, turning his attention away from you and you finally allow yourself to relax again. You do need his praise or words of thanks, not when you have not yet won the war against Virion. <<elseif $chp6_40a3 is 5>> "I care deeply for you, Irus," you murmur. "Sometimes, it is hard to breathe because my chest swells until I am certain that it will burst. You have given me your heart and I want you to know that you have mine as well." Your voice comes out soft, the words leaving you in a rush of air and affection. Heat creeps up your neck and swallows your face until you can barely look at Prince Irus, afraid that he will be able to hear the pounding of your heartbeat in your chest. When you fled Salt Bay, you never thought that you would have found someone like Prince Irus, someone who would return your feelings. "$name," he breathes, his voice low. He speaks your name as if it is a song of praise, a whisper of worship and it is directed at you. You meet his gaze, nearly becoming lost in the tidal wave of affection that captures you. Prince Irus takes in your features, his eyes tracing your lips before slipping over the exposed skin at your throat. You shiver under his examination, feeling tremors spreading through you. It is hard to look away, not when Prince Irus looks at you as though you are the only one in the room. A breath escapes you and you nearly reach out to touch him. Affection and perhaps, something far more profound than that, fills you until you do not know how to respond. "You have made me feel alive for the first time in many years," Prince Irus says in a soft voice. His hand reaches towards you. His fingertips brush against your shoulder before trailing down your arm, stopping near your hand, squeezing your fingers. "Thank you, Beloved." <<elseif $chp6_40a3 is 6>> "There is no need to thank me, Irus," you tease. "You know that I will follow you to the end of time if you asked." You smirk at him, taking the way that Prince Irus' gaze trails over your features before settling on the outline of your lips. Heat surges through you under his gaze and you are suddenly annoyed that neither of you are nearly as alone as you would have preferred to have been. Prince Irus mirrors your smile, leaning closer. It is not nearly close enough to draw the attention of those around you but when you take in the yearning in his gaze, you are unable to look away. Your heartbeat thuds loudly under your chest, blood rushing past your ears and you bask in the grip that Prince Irus holds over you. "To the end of time, hm?" he asks, tilting his head. A strand of his blond hair falls over his forehead and you reach out, smoothing it away. When you begin to withdraw your hand, Prince Irus slips his fingers over your wrist, bringing the underside of your skin to his mouth. The kiss is fleeting, a mere brush of his soft lips and yet, it is enough to make your breathing hitch. "I do not know what I ever did to garner such devotion, Beloved," he breathes, the heat of his words brushing against your skin. He lets go of your wrist and you can barely think over the heat that courses along your skin. Your thumb traces over where his lips had been and you shudder, suddenly flushed with the memory of his touch. <</if>> [[Next.|chp6_40a5]]

The moment is interrupted by the arrival of attendants. They begin to clear the empty platters from the table and refill goblets with sweetened drinks. You pause as the table is cleared and find that Prince Irus' attention has been drawn away as an attendant offers to refill his goblet. Glancing at Princess Lamahu, you wonder if she will be willing to discuss the alliance now. [[Next.|chp6_41]]

As the attendants begin to slip out of the room and the table is cleared of the large feast, your eyes shift towards Princess Lamahu. Her conversation with $mama has ended, you note and her dark eyes are nearly unreadable as she sits tall at the head of the table. "I hope that you have enjoyed the feast," Princess Lamahu says. "I understand that such grand feasts are scarce in times of war but you are honoured guests for your aid in helping free those imprisoned by the callous Blood Guard." Her lips pull into a scowl at the mention of the Blood Guard. For a moment, the unreadable expression on her face gives way to anger and rage, nearly as hot as the crackling flames that line the edges of the room. Princess Lamahu seems to notice your gaze because in a moment, her expression of anger is gone. "I understand that there is an alliance that needs to be discussed," Princess Lamahu murmurs. She glances at Prince Irus, her smile faltering. "Let us hear it then, Your Highness." [[Next.|chp6_42]]

<<if $chp6_40b is 1>> "Perhaps it is because you are unrecognisable in your silence," you murmur. Queen Elora's eyes widen slightly and she looks away, a frown tugging at her mouth. You gaze at her, surprised by the uncertainty in her movements, as though she has forgotten the role she possesses. For as long as you have known Queen Elora, you do not think that you have ever seen her as lost as she appears now. "I am sorry if I have been keeping my words to myself tonight, $name," she replies. "There has been a lot on my mind." "Do you mean the alliance?" you question. She nods, turning to meet your gaze. "Yes, but there are other things too. I left control of Vinia in the hands of my mother and I worry that when I return, my people will not accept me as readily as I hope they will." Queen Elora gazes at Princess Lamahu before taking in the rest of those seated around the table. A flicker of despair flashes through Queen Elora's eyes and she lets out a shaky breath as she returns her attention onto you. "I suppose Princess Lamahu's resolve has left me questioning my own abilities to reign," she murmurs. "But it is something that I must deal with alone, $name." <<elseif $chp6_40b is 2>> "You are a queen," you answer, shrugging. "And while I may not be a citizen of Vinia, you can consider me a loyal subject." The Kingdom of Vinia has been the only region where you have not truly felt unwanted. There was a unity amongst its people that you had not experienced in Cyre and even here, in Ishari. Perhaps it is because for years, Vinia has been untouched by the war that seems to plague those in both Cyre and Ishari that has left the region able to flourish. You have come to enjoy Vinia and it helps knowing that the family you have only just found are still there, waiting for your return. While you have only experienced only a few weeks in the city of Aspal, you know that it has been more of a home to you than Salt Bay ever was. "I am glad," Queen Elora replies. She smiles softly at you. "I hope that you know that regardless of what Iri chooses, you will always have a home in Vinia." There has been little time to consider what your future might hold after the chaos of the war has been resolved. You glance at Queen Elora and know that she speaks truthfully. No matter what might happen, you can return to Vinia when everything is over. Your family still reside there and you know that they still await for your return. "Thank you," you respond. "Vinia has been more accepting of me than I knew could be possible and I am grateful for that." Queen Elora's smile widens. "My grandmother believed that we were stronger together, despite our differences and I am grateful that her vision for Vinia can be realised through the efforts I take." She pauses. "It is good to be reminded of what I strive for. Thank you, $name." <<elseif $chp6_40b is 3>> "Whatever loyalty you see in my is a delusionment on your part," you retort. "We both know that I am not a subject of your kingdom." Queen Elora frowns at the curtness of your tone, but you do not let the expression she casts you change your stance. The Kingdom of Vinia is not your home and you hardly consider yourself to be Queen Elora's subject. Is this how all nobles consider those who were not born with the same wealth and status? "I did not realise you felt so strongly about this," Queen Elora replies. Her eyes are hard and the look she gives you is filled with mild irritation. <<if $eloraRel lte 49>> Your relationship with Queen Elora is often strained, so her irritation does not surprise you now. You sigh, looking away from her, unbothered by the hardness in her gaze.<<elseif $eloraRel gte 50>>Your relationship with Queen Elora has not always been this strained, but perhaps it is because you are in Ishari and confronting the past that you thought you could forget that has made you argumentative.</if>> The conversation lulls for a moment as the tension between you sits heavily like the weight of an achor. It becomes clear that neither you nor Queen Elora are willing to end the silence and you let out a tired breath. <</if>><</if>> [[Next.|chp6_40b2]]

As you gaze across the room, your eyes catch sight of Princess Lamahu and $mama. They are huddled closely, their voices low as they speak in hushed tones. From the frown on your mother's mouth, you can tell that your mother is displeased. Queen Elora notes your gaze, her eyes narrowing with interest. "I did not realise that the High Priestess would be so close to Princess Lamahu," Queen Elora breathes. "From what I gathered, Princess Lamahu has been confined in Sangasu while her father ails." You purse your lips, unable to make sense of the friendship your mother seems to share with Princess Lamahu. A twisting sense of doubt pricks at the back of your thoughts, filling your head with a thousand questions that you are uncertain $mama would ever answer. "They are hiding something," Queen Elora murmurs, her dark eyes finding yours. "Do you have any inkling as to what it might be?" <<set $chp6_40b2 to 0>> [["My mother's secrets are her own," you answer. "I am afraid that I do not know what she might be hiding."|chp6_40b3][$chp6_40b2 +=1]] [["How can you be so certain that they are hiding something?" you ask. "Perhaps this is how they always are."|chp6_40b3][$chp6_40b2 +=2]] [["I do not care what she hides," you huff. "What she does is of no interest to me."|chp6_40b3][$chp6_40b2 +=3]] [["I have no knowledge of what she might be hiding, but I intend on finding out the truth," you murmur.|chp6_40b3][$chp6_40b2 +=4]]

<<if $chp6_40b2 is 1>> "My mother's secrets are her own," you answer. "I am afraid that I do not know what she might be hiding." Admitting that your mother is a stranger to you is an uneasy thing to say aloud, but Queen Elora nods, her dark eyes filling with understanding. It has been a difficult thing, learning that $mama is alive and that she has another life here in Ishari. As you gaze at her with Princess Lamahu, it becomes clear that she seems to have more influence than you first thought she would. "I fear that it might affect the prospects of our success," Queen Elora breathes. "They keep glancing at Iri, as though discussing him." You follow the looks that Princess Lamahu keeps stealing at Prince Irus, as though afraid to gaze at him for too long. Your attention shifts towards $mama and you catch the frown on her lips and the stubborness in her expression. A breath escapes you and for a moment, you are suddenly struck by the similiarites between $mama's unyielding glare and the memory of the wilful looks that Ahlf would grace you with. "Do you think that it will become a problem when we propose the alliance?" you ask. Queen Elora frowns. "I do not know. There is so little to know what to expect when it comes to Princess Lamahu." <<elseif $chp6_40b2 is 2>> "How can you be so certain that they are hiding something?" you ask. "Perhaps this is how they always are." You cannot deny that your knowledge of your mother is limited to your childhood memories and what you have seen of her in the past two days. There is no telling the type of woman she is when she is around friends or her new family. The thought sends a sharp tug through your stomach and you look away, swallowing a breath. "Perhaps," Queen Elora murmurs. She glances at you. "But look at the anger in Princess Lamahu's eyes. They are arguing, $name. Friends or not, there is something that we are not privy to." Gazing at $mama and Princess Lamahu, you find yourself searching their faces for the anger that Queen Elora noticed. There, a glimmer of heat and rage in $mama's eyes. It only deepens when her lips pull into a scowl and you find Princess Lamahu responding in kind. Their words are too low for you to hear, but there are signs of a disagreement. "$mama said that she needed to talk to Princess Lamahu before we discussed the alliance," you murmur. "I wonder what it might be about," Queen Elora breathes. "It seems that is will have an impact on the proposal." <<elseif $chp6_40b2 is 3>> "I do not care what she hides," you huff. "What she does is of no interest to me." The words come out bitter and taste like poison on your tongue. You huff, your fingers curling into the soft material of the cushions beneath you and you glare at the table. $mama chose a new life here in Ishari, before she seemed to have chosen you. Whatever letters your father might have kept from you does not change the actions your mother took. Watching her now, knowing that she is still hiding things from you leaves you hollow and drained. You have no interest in the words she might be sharing with Princess Lamahu, even when Queen Elora peers at them in curiosity. "I suppose I cannot fault you for your feelings towards your mother," Queen Elora responds. She offers you a gentle smile. "I am sorry for mentioning it to you." You sigh. "It is alright. I suppose that I will need to become accustomed to her presence as I had become accustomed to her absence." A frown slips over Queen Elora's mouth and she stares at you with a look of concern in her gaze. You turn away, not wanting the sympathy you know she is willing to offer. No matter what happens, this pain is something that you will have to learn to accept on your own. <<elseif $chp6_40b2 is 4>> "I have no knowledge of what she might be hiding, but I intend on finding out the truth," you murmur. There is a fierce certainty within you that tells you that $mama is hiding things. You suspected it the moment she mentioned her friendship with Princess Lamahu. As you gaze at her from where you sit, you become aware of the anger in her eyes and the way her mouth twists into a deep scowl. Princess Lamahu steals a glance at Prince Irus, before whispering to $mama. "They are discussing Iri," Queen Elora notes, her eyes hardening. "It would seem that discussion of the alliance has already begun and we have not been included." You stare at $mama. She seems to want the alliance as much as the rest of you did, but can you truly trust her intentions? Your relationship with $mama is based on the vague, childhood memories of your past and what you have come to know about her in the last two days. "Do you think that Princess Lamahu will refuse the alliance?" you ask. "She does not seem fond of Cyre or Prince Irus." Queen Elora presses her lips together, her eyes deep in thought. For a moment, she stares at Princess Lamahu before sighing. "I cannot tell what Princess Lamahu might do," she answers. "She is difficult to read and seems prone to listening to your mother." You nod, knowing that Queen Elora speaks the truth. Knowing what might be going through Princess Lamahu's mind is something that has left you questioning everything that you know about your mother's friendship with her. <</if>> [[Next.|chp6_40b4]]

As you shift against the soft cushions beneath you, Queen Elora turns to gaze at you. You are taken by the way the glow of the oil lamps bathe her skin in a soft orange. It strikes against her dark eyes and for a moment, it is as if you are staring into the depths of a flame. She gazes at you with an intensity that makes you feel as though she has seen through all of your thoughts and come away pleased with what she has seen. "These past few months have been trying for you, $name," she murmurs. "You are far stronger than I thought a person could be, yet, here you are." She flushes, her face reddening suddenly. "I suppose what I am trying to tell you is that I am grateful that you are in my life." <<set $chp6_40b4 to 0>> [["Thank you," you breathe, smiling softly. "I am grateful that you are in my life too."|chp6_40b5][$chp6_40b4 +=1, $eloraRel +=5]] [[You swallow, suddenly overcome by the sincerity of Queen Elora'a voice. No one has ever been this kind to you before.|chp6_40b5][$chp6_40b4 +=2, $eloraRel +=5]] [["I do not need your gratitude," you grumble, uneasy by her flattery.|chp6_40b5][$chp6_40b4 +=3]] <<if $eloraRom gte 30>> [[♡"You... you have brightened my life," you murmur. "I do not think you understand just how deeply I have come to care for you."|chp6_40b5][$chp6_40b4 +=4, $eloraRom +=5, $eloraRel +=5]] [[♡"Oh my, Your Highness," you tease. "Are you flushed simply from the thought of me?"|chp6_40b5][$chp6_40b4 +=5, $eloraRel +=5, $eloraRom +=5]]<</if>>

<<if $chp6_40b4 is 1>> "Thank you," you breathe, smiling softly. "I am grateful that you are in my life too." Your lips curve into a smile and a flutter of warmth unfurls in your stomach, stretching until it reaches the tips of your fingers. You are lighter, the tension leaving you all at once until it is as though you have shared a secret with Queen Elora the way young children share secrets with each other. She is your friend, you realise and the thought leaves you breathless and giddy. You did not think that when you met Queen Elora in her palace that you would have ever become such close friends and yet, you cannot imagine a time when the woman who gazes at you with such fondness was ever not in your life. "A pity that Zikar is not here to witness this," Queen Elora chuckles. "He would be livid and jealous to know that I have replaced him with someone far more intelligent." Laughter bubbles up your throat, spilling past your lips in an airy sound that leaves you grinning at Queen Elora. The jest is one shared between friends and it is suddenly enough to know that she will be at your side throughout everything that might come. <<elseif $chp6_40b4 is 2>> You swallow, suddenly overcome by the sincerity of Queen Elora'a voice. No one has ever been this kind to you before. For a moment, your chest swells with a feeling that you cannot name for fear that it will leave you in a rush. But the longer you gaze at Queen Elora, the more defined it becomes. For as long as you can remember, there had been no one who ever quite looked at you the way Queen Elora looks at you. It is a look free of judgment, one where she is kind and accepting of your past and all that it entails. No one has ever been so concerned about you the way it seems the young queen has. "I... I do not know what to say," you stammer. "It feels as if I have known you for far longer than I have. You accepted me when others never did and I am grateful." Queen Elora's eyes soften and she reaches out, placing her warm hand over yours. She squeezes, her smile wide as she meets your eyes and the heat in your chest bursts until your skin in flushed with the knowledge that you have a friend who cares for you as much as you care for her. "You will never be turned away because of your heritage or upbringing, $name," she breathes. "I have come to enjoy our conversations because you speak freely and you have endured everything with steadfast courage. You are far more regal than I could ever hope to be." <<elseif $chp6_40b4 is 3>> "I do not need your gratitude," you grumble, uneasy by her flattery. <<if $eloraRel lte 49>> Your lips pull into a scowl and you turn away, not wanting to meet Queen Elora's eyes. For as long as you have known her, your relationship has not been the easiest. Her words sound hollow now and you wonder just how much of what she says is true and how much of it is to gain some form of advantage. Queen Elora frowns in response, sighing. "I suppose you do not need a lot of things." You raise your eyebrows at her. "Do you think that I seek your approval? That I clamour for scraps of your attention like the courtiers in Vinia?" "That is not-" "I am not here for your friendship, //Your Highness//," you hiss. "I am here because of the war and because of Prince Irus. There is nothing to gain from pretending to know or care about me." <<elseif $eloraRel gte 50>> You have managed to have a cordial relationship with Queen Elora and her words have been spoken with sincerity. It leaves you confused and uneasy, uncertain how to handle the flattery she offers you without seeming to want anything in return. "I think you do," Queen Elora whispers. "I think that no one has been kind to you before and that has left you unused to flattery." A breathless laugh escapes you, your smile bitter. "You do not know what I have gone through. Do not make assumptions on what I need." Queen Elora frowns, looking away. "I did not mean any insult, $name. I was only expressing how I feel about you." You shrug. "Keep it to yourself the next time you have the urge to speak about your feelings."<</if>> <<elseif $chp6_40b4 is 4>> "You... you have brightened my life," you murmur. "I do not think you understand just how deeply I have come to care for you." Your face warms as you gaze at Queen Elora, suddenly transfixed by the way her curls frame the softness of her face and the way her fingers curl into each other. She lets out a breath, her eyes on you as she takes in your features. Your chest tightens and it is hard to breathe but you know that you cannot look away even if you tried. She clears her throat, her smile warm. "I... I have not realised the depth of your feelings, $name."<<if $irus_lock is true>> Her smile falters. "But you and Iri are courting and it would be wrong of me to allow our flirtations to become more than this." You glance at Prince Irus, suddenly aware of your growing affections for him. As you return your eyes to Queen Elora's face, there is a kindness in them. "I care for you, $name," she murmurs. "And I care deeply for Iri too. He is like family to me and I could never hurt him by doing more than what we have. I hope that you can understand that." "I do," you reply. "I would hate to hurt him too." A small smile graces her lips and she tugs at your fingers, squeezing your hand in her grip. "There is no harm in trading words of affection, $name. Consider it a gesture of our deep friendship."<<else>> Her eyes drop towards your mouth. "I never imagined that you would feel for me as I have felt for you." It is as though you have been cast into a fire, your skin crackling and hissing with heat. Your heartbeat thuds until it drowns out the sound of your erratic breaths. Queen Elora stares at you, her eyes intense with yearning and something more than that. It leaves you shuddering with desire and warmth. "I..." you breathe, swallowing. "I think about you often and your voice makes me quake in wonder. There is so much about you that leaves me dizzy and yearning." Queen Elora breathes out, her eyes wide as she regards you. For a moment, neither of you looks away but you do not care. She smiles at you, a smile that is only meant for you and it warms you from within. "You are the first person that has ever truly seen me, $name," she murmurs. "I hope that in time that you will know all of me too."<</if>> <<elseif $chp6_40b4 is 5>> "Oh my, Your Highness," you tease. "Are you flushed simply from the thought of me?" The blush on Queen Elora's cheeks darkens and you laugh. It would seem that despite her status, she is not immune to your charms. The knowledge that you are able to leave her flushed and smiling sends a thrill through you and you are suddenly grateful for her warm presence. <<if $irus_lock is true>> But the softness in Queen Elora's smile fades slightly when she glances towards Prince Irus. You follow her gaze, remembering the bond you share with him and the deepness of your relationship. "Iri is besotted with you," Queen Elora mumbles. "I have never known him to ever feel so deeply about another." She glances at you, smiling sadly. "You are easy to care for, $name. But Iri is my friend and I cannot bring myself to interfere with his affections for you." You nod. "I understand." Queen Elora smiles, her eyes filling with fondness. "Whatever words we share cannot go beyond that. It is better to remain friends than to ruin the bond you share with Iri for a few moments of flirtation." <<else>> She glances at you, the heat and yearning in her gaze unwavering as her eyes trace your features. Tingles, like small pricks of heat, spread through your arms and skin until you are unable to look away from her dark eyes. "I suppose I am," she murmurs. "I have never known someone to look at me so clearly the way you do. It is as if you have seen me and beyond the person others might think I am." Her words are soft, filled with sincerity as they brush over you. Your chest tightens and you stare at her, drinking in her beauty and the softness in her gaze. You think about all the times that Queen Elora might have been sought after for her crown and you almost reach out, to brush your hands against her cheek, knowing that she is far more than just a queen. "I care about you," you admit. "More than you can know." She stares at your lips, smiling. "I think I might have some clarity on those feelings, $name."<</if>> <</if>> Your conversation with Queen Elora is interrupted when the attendants begin to clear the table. You realise that you will not be able to continue your conversation with her, not when the attendants are bustling around you. Glancing at Princess Lamahu, you wonder if she will be willing to discuss the alliance now. [[Next.|chp6_41]]

<<if $chp6_40c is 1>> "You cannot blame yourself for what happened," you reassure him. Sir Oren shakes his head, as if you have spoken words of madness. He rakes his hand through his dark hair, the strands tangling in his fingers. A shaky breath escapes him and he reaches out, to drink from his goblet. "You are kind to say that, $name," Sir Oren replies. "But it is difficult to make peace with the bloodshed I failed to prevent." His words are hollow and from the dark expression in Sir Oren's eyes, it is clear that he blames himself for every death that has occured under the orders of Virion. You reach out, gripping Sir Oren's shoulder. He stiffens, glancing at you with wide eyes. "You cannot blame yourself for every death," you murmur. "It is not you who wielded the blade that ended those lives. You are a good man and carrying the weight of those deaths will only hamper you in the face of danger." Sir Oren is quiet, as if your trying to make sense of your words. You offer him a small smile, hoping that you have managed to assuage his guilt, if only slightly. A moment passes and then, Sir Oren's lips lift to mirror your expression. "Thank you, $name," he breathes. "I think I needed a friendly ear." <<elseif $chp6_40c is 2>> "There are many things that can be learnt from your failures," you reply. "Learn from them and I am certain that you will prevail when it matters the most." There is much you had not known when you first fled Salt Bay and perhaps it is because of this that you have come to appreciate the skills and knowledge you have acquired over the weeks. As you gaze at Sir Oren, you note the guilt that swirls in his hazel eyes, as though he is plagued by memories of those who suffered greatly. You think about your own encounters with the Blood Guard and even the Nomad Tribe sailors on Lord Redall's barge. You could not save the people in Salt Bay, nor could you have saved those who were slaughtered at sea. But giving into the feelings of despair will not help Sir Oren. "There are many failures to learn from," Sir Oren breathes. His voice comes out hollow as if he is speaking of memories that you are unaware of. Frowning, you reach out and grip his forearm. Your touch startles him out of his thoughts and he glances at you, his eyes wide. "I am sorry, $name," he mumbles. "I suppose that you are right. Thinking about those who I could not protect has only left me fearful of what might come." "It is good that you are alert for signs of danger," you answer. "But you cannot forget to take care of yourself too, Sir Oren." He nods, exhaling tiredly. "You are right. Thank you, $name." <<elseif $chp6_40c is 3>> "Stop moping over what happened," you scoff. "You cannot change the past but you can better yourself for the dangers ahead." Your words are hard, the roughness in your voice drawing a surprised sound from Sir Oren. He turns to look at you, his hazel eyes wide. You frown at him. He cannot afford to continue to doubt himself, not when there are so many who are depending on your companions to prevent a war. "I..." Sir Oren mumbles, trailing off. He stares at the table, frowning. "I cannot simply forget what has happened. It would mean forgetting the lives that I could not save." "You are only one person," you reply. "You cannot save everyone, Captain." Sir Oren's shoulders sag slightly, his eyebrows furrowing as he regards you. You wonder if he has ever had to deal with war before, but you suspect that he must not have. Vinia has been a neutral kingdom and spared from the threats of war until now. "You are right," he breathes, as if it pains him to admit it. "I cannot save everyone." <</if>> [[Next.|chp6_40c2]]

The conversation eases until you and Sir Oren are seated in a quietness that evades the rest of the chatter around you. As you gaze across the table, you find your mother and Princess Lamahu in deep conversation, their words hushed and your mother's expression pinched with irritation. Sir Oren gollows your gaze, his eyes filling with a strange look before he turns his attention towards you. "They seem to be at odds with each other." You remember your mother's words from earlier. There is much that you do not know about her friendship with Princess Lamahu, but as you take in the heated exchange, it is difficult to make sense of their supposed friendship. <<set $chp6_40c2 to 0>> [["My mother seems to be at odds with many people," you mutter. "Her anger with Princess Lamahu does not surprise me."|chp6_40c3][$chp6_40c2 +=1]] [["I cannot tell if this is how they always are or if they are having an argument," you admit.|chp6_40c3][$chp6_40c2 +=2]] [["They seem to be closer than my mother implied," you reply. "She speaks so brazenly with Princess Lamahu without fear."|chp6_40c3][$chp6_40c2 +=3]] [["I have no interest in my mother's life or friendships," you murmur.|chp6_40c3][$chp6_40c2 +=4]]

<<if $chp6_40c2 is 1>> "My mother seems to be at odds with many people," you mutter. "Her anger with Princess Lamahu does not surprise me." You think about the bitter relationship Ahlf seemed to have shared with $mama. He kept letters from you that she supposedly sent and you cannot help but wonder what truly happened between them. Was it the tension of the war or had your mother done something to provoke him? As you gaze at your mother, you can tell that by the way she glowers at Princess Lamahu, she is unhappy with what Princess Lamahu must have said. She claimed to be old friends with the ruler of Ishari, but from the way that they scowl, you are not certain if it would be better to call them rivals. "She does seem angry," Sir Oren murmurs. "I hope that they will resolve their differences before His Highness discusses the alliance." You turn, your attention now on Sir Oren. There is concern in his hazel eyes and when he meets your gaze, you catch a flicker of a frown passing over his mouth. "I hope so too," you mumble. <<elseif $chp6_40c2 is 2>> "I cannot tell if this is how they always are or if they are having an argument," you admit. It is a painful thing to realise that you do not know $mama the way a $heir should know $MChis mother. The decades you spent apart means that you do not know who your mother is, nor does she know the person you have become. As you take in the anger in your mother's gaze, the twist of her lips directed at Princess Lamahu, you know that you do not know $mama enough to know if her friendship with Princess Lamahu is what she claims it is. "It is a difficult thing to face a family member as though they are a stranger," Sir Oren breathes. "I am sorry, $name." You turn to look up at him and find that his hazel eyes are soft, apologetic as he meets your gaze. A smile pulls at your lips, grateful for his understanding and he returns a moment later. "It is alright," you murmur. <<elseif $chp6_40c2 is 3>> "They seem to be closer than my mother implied," you reply. "She speaks so brazenly with Princess Lamahu without fear." You do not know if you would be able to speak so harshly, with such control to someone like Queen Elora and come out of it unscathed. But as you watch the exchange between $mama and Princess Lamahu, you realise that the friendship they share must be one that spans years, if not decades. "Your mother did not mention this to you before?" Sir Oren asks, glancing at you. You shake your head. "Only when we were about to depart. I... It did not come up before then." Sir Oren's hazel eyes return to your mother and Princess Lamahu. A small frown slips over his mouth and you wonder what he sees that displeases him. Sir Oren notices your stare and offers you a sheepish smile, running his hand over his hair. "Forgive me, $name," he mumbles. He lowers his voice. "But it would seem that what they discuss will impact the alliance." You gaze at $mama, suddenly aware of the task that has been set out for you tonight. If Princess Lamahu believes that she cannot trust your mother, will that mean she will refuse an alliance with Prince Irus? <<elseif $chp6_40c2 is 4>> "I have no interest in my mother's life or friendships," you murmur. It has taken you two decades to find your mother and in that time, you realised that knowing anything about her life has only left you hollow and drained. You do not wish to know about her friendships or the person she has become in the time that you spent apart. As you gaze at her heated discussion with Princess Lamahu, you know that you have made the right decision. Sir Oren glances at you, his hazel eyes soft. "It must be difficult after being apart for so many years." You nod, unable to voice a response. There are too many emotions that are attached to the thought of your mother. Her life seems to have continued in your absence and it is a life that you were never a part of and now, you refuse to be drawn into it now that you have found $mama. Sir Oren glances at $mama and Princess Lamahu again. There is a frown on his lips and a crease against his brow. You gaze at him, curious. "What is it?" you ask. "Why are you frowning like that?" "I cannot help but feel that they are discussing the alliance," Sir Oren replies. "The bad mood they share will surely influence the outcome of the alliance." <</if>> [[Next.|chp6_40c4]]

You turn away from your mother and Princess Lamahu, your eyes shifting towards Sir Oren. He still watches them, his eyes narrowed in thought and worry. You gaze at him, noting the way his dark eyebrows furrow together and the way his mouth draws into a deeper frown. A deep sigh escapes him and then, he is looking at you once more. The tension in his shoulders eases and you note the way his lips lift slightly, the frown fading from his face. In that moment, you are struck by the strength in his posture. It is clear why others would follow a man like him. He smiles at you, his expression is suddenly warm, absent of the worries that seemed to have plagued him only moments earlier. The sight of it reaches his eyes and he speaks softly, as if only for your ears. "I wish to tell you that I admire you greatly, $name," Sir Oren breathes. "You have overcome so much and for that, you will always have my respect and protection." <<set $chp6_40c4 to 0>> [["Thank you," you murmur, touched by his sincerity. "I am grateful for your friendship."|chp6_40c5][$chp6_40c4 +=1, $orenRel +=5]] [["No one has ever..." you mumble, taken aback by his kindness. "Thank you."|chp6_40c5][$chp6_40c4 +=2, $orenRel +=5]] [["I do not need your protection," you mutter. "I have taken care of myself without anyone and will continue to do so."|chp6_40c5][$chp6_40c4 +=3]] <<if $orenRom gte 30>> [[♡You flush as the heat of his words settles over you.|chp6_40c5][$chp6_40c4 +=4, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5]] [[♡"That is very kind of you," you murmur. "I am tempted to cast myself towards danger if only to have you rescure me."|chp6_40c5][$chp6_40c4 +=5, $orenRom +=5, $orenRel +=5]]<</if>>

<<if $chp6_40c4 is 1>> "Thank you," you murmur, touched by his sincerity. "I am grateful for your friendship." Warmth, like a cascading blanket, slips over your skin until you are enveloped in the affection of Sir Oren's kindness. You have known someone to care for you the way Sir Oren has come to care for you. There is a gentleness in the way he looks at you, a softness that you have never experienced before and it is a feeling that you grip closely to your chest. Sir Oren's smile widens, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I am glad to have met you, $name. You have proven to me your strength and it is something that has inspired me to do better." You tilt your head, curious. "You already help so many, Sir Oren. There is nothing to improve." He shrugs, looking away from a moment. You search his expression, flushed with warmth and perhaps, memories of a time he has never mentioned to you before. When he turns to look at you again, there is a determined glint in his eyes. "There are many who need aid," he explains. "When this is all over, I intend to help as many as I can and it is thanks to your courage that I have come to the decision." You smile, warmed by his words. "Then I will support you in any way that I can." <<elseif $chp6_40c4 is 2>> "No one has ever..." you mumble, taken aback by his kindness. "Thank you." Your chest tightens and your breathing stutters to a stop. How can you ever express what his words mean to you? For so long, you shrank away from those around you, their barbed words and sharp glares enough to keep you isolated. Yet, as you look at Sir Oren and the gentleness in his expression, you cannot stop the surge of affection that flows through you. "You do not need to thank me, $name," Sir Oren murmurs. His smile is soft. "I should be thanking you." You shake your head in confusion. "But what have I even done for you?" Sir Oren chuckles, the sound of his deep voice rumbling in his chest enough to draw your eyes towards him. He smiles at you, mirth dancing in the hazel of his eyes and his expression warms when he meets your gaze. "You need not do anything, $name," he answers. "I have come to value your thoughts and friendship. That is all there is to it." This must be what it means to have someone you can depend on, you think. The thought is enough to leave you breathless and giddy, suddenly warmed at the prospect of having someone who will support you in whatever will come, regardless of your past and your heritage. <<elseif $chp6_40c4 is 3>> "I do not need your protection," you mutter. "I have taken care of myself without anyone and will continue to do so." Your life has been spent fending off the cruelty of others. It became clear early in your childhood that there would be no one who come to save you. As you frown at Sir Oren, you cannot help the irritation that fills you. You do not need his aid or his protection. You are not a child anymore and any attempts for his heroics is unwanted. "I did not mean to offend you, $name," Sir Oren replies, his eyes wide. "I only wished to express that I am here for you if you need it." You let out a bitter sound, the laugh getting choked in the back of your throat. Perhaps you needed saving once, but the cruelties of your childhood has taught you that you cannot rely on anyone but yourself for saving. Sir Oren seems eager to protect those he thinks that need it the most, but you do not him. You do not need anyone to save you. "I do not need your support," you murmur. "Not when I have overcome so much on my own." <<elseif $chp6_40c4 is 4>> You flush as the heat of his words settles over you. Your palms are damp against your knees, your pulse racing in your ears, making every breath an effort. You do not know how long you have been sitting here with your knees pressed together as though seeking warmth or comfort, but you can feel the familiar prickling of heat that creeps along your face, rendering you breathless. Sir Oren gazes at you softly, a smile pulling at his lips. There is nothing teasing in the way he looks at you and the sincerity of his expression is enough to draw your words from your lips. "Thank you, Sir Oren," you breathe. "I... I care for you deeply and your words mean more to me than you know." <<if $irus_lock is true>> The smile on Sir Oren's lips falter and he suddenly looks away, clearing his throat. You note the way his fingers tighten on the edge of the table, his cheeks flushed with redness but still, he does not meet your gaze. When he speaks, it is in a low voice, as if afraid of breaking the hush that has fallen over you both. "It pains me to know that you feel that way about me, $name for I feel simililarly for you," he murmurs. "But I... I know that you and His Highness share a close blond and I could never forgive myself if I did anything to hurt you both." You glance at Prince Irus, suddenly prickling with warmth at the memories of your time together and you know that Sir Oren is right. Doing anything more than what you have will only hurt the both of them and it is something that you do not wish to do. "You are right," you breathe. "I understand." Sir Oren glances at you, his face soft. "I am glad that you do, $name. What we have can never go beyond this while you are courting another." <<elseif $irus_lock is false>> Sir Oren stares at you, his hazel eyes tracing your features as if he is trying to commit them to memory. Your heartbeat thuds loudly and you swallow, your mouth suddenly dry under the intensity of Sir Oren's gaze. You shiver when he reaches out, his thumb stroking the side of your face. He pulls away all to soon and you press your fingers over your cheek, as if to stop the feeling of his touch from leaving you. "You do not know how happy it makes me to hear you say that," he murmurs. "I have come to care for you too. It has been so long since I have allowed myself to feel like this for another, yet with you, it is as easy as breathing." "Sir Oren..." you mumble, unable to say more than his name, for fear that your voice will fail you. He smiles warmly, affection heavy in his eyes. "Thank you for allowing me into your life, $name."<</if>> <<elseif $chp6_40c4 is 5>> "That is very kind of you," you murmur. "I am tempted to cast myself towards danger if only to have you rescure me." The thought of rushing headfirst towards danger only for Sir Oren to come to your rescue leaves you grinning widely. You gaze at him, enjoying the heat that dots his cheeks and turning his face a dark shade of red. He looks away first, exhaling sharply as he stares at the table before him. <<if $irus_lock is true>> "I... I know that you and His Highness are courting, $name," he murmurs. "I do not wish to hurt any of you in continuing what we are doing." You think about your relationship with Prince Irus and the thought is enough to make your smile soften. He is a man that you have come to care for deeply and as you regard Sir Oren and the kindness in his eyes, you know that he is right. You cannot pursue more than this without hurting them both. "You are kinder than I deserve, Captain," you breathe. "I understand." He turns to look at you, a look of sorrow in his gaze. "I am sorry, $name." "There is nothing to apologise for," you reply, smiling. "Besides, what's a few words of harmless flirtation between friends?" Sir Oren flushes, his expression warming slightly. A smile pulls at his lips and he glances away, mumbling something under his breath. You chuckle softly, knowing that even if you will not do more than this, you will always have his friendship. <<elseif $irus_lock is false>> "That would be unwise," he breathes. "I would hate to see you hurt." You chuckle in response, enjoying the seriousness in his eyes. Sir Oren is far more handsome than a guard captain ought to be, yet, you do not think he realises just how attractive it is when he stares at you intently. You tilt your head, your eyes trailing over his face, marvelling at the flecks of green in his eyes and the way his lips part when he breathes out. "Then you will have to tend to my wounds," you laugh. Sir Oren blinks, the redness of his cheeks deepening and he ducks his head. You wonder what he must be imagining when he thinks of tending to your wounds and your smile widens into a smirk. He is far too easy to rile up and yet, you cannot bring yourself to stop. "I thought you said you would protect me no matter what," you tease. Sir Oren glances at you. "Of course. I will never let you come to any harm, $name." His sincerity catches you by surprise and your smirk falters until you are staring at him with heat and affection. He meets your gaze, unwavering even when it is clear that he is flushed with nervousness. There is little time to be teaasing, not when he is looking at you as if you are the only thing that matters.<</if>> <</if>> Your conversation with Sir Oren is interrupted when the attendants begin to clear the table. You realise that you will not be able to continue your conversation with him, not when the attendants are bustling around you. Glancing at Princess Lamahu, you wonder if she will be willing to discuss the alliance now. [[Next.|chp6_41]]

<<if $chp6_40d is 1>> "I... no," you mumble. "I did not mean to stare." You look away, suddenly aware that you had been staring and chastise yourself inwardly. Anu laughs, the sound loud and draws your attention back towarsd her. She stares at you, grinning and the tension that settled over your shoulders ease until you can breathe again. "Do not look so scared," she remarks. "//Deities//, you are as meek as a cat without its claws." You frown. "I am not." Anu shakes her head, biting into a piece of flatbread. She chews, watching you with a curious look as if trying to make sense of the person you are. "I think you are," she answers. "But perhaps you will surprise us all in the weeks to come." <<elseif $chp6_40d is 2>> "You eat as if it is your first meal in days," you remark, gazing at her. She stares at you, halfway towards taking a bit of her flatbread, drenched in oils and the gravy of the lamb dish before her. You tilt your head, waiting for retort but it does not come. Shrugging her shoulders, Anu stuffs the flatbread into her mouth, her expression exaggerated as she chews it. "Perhaps it is my first good meals in days," she retorts. "Look around you, $name. None of this is real. You have seen what it is like in the temple." Her words ring hollow with truth. Your time spent in the Temple Of Ehulla proved that life faced by those outside the palace walls in Sangasu was much more difficult than it seemed to be here with Princess Lamahu. It is a thought that leaves the taste of the lavish meals bitter in the back of your mouth. "How is it possible that the palace has managed to secure such luxuries?" you question. Anu shrugs. "I do not know but I am not going to question it. We are here to enjoy a feast and I shall make certain that I enjoy every moment of it before we are forced to return." <<elseif $chp6_40d is 3>> "The only rude thing about this is your poor table manners," you mutter. Anu narrows her eyes at you, sticking out her tongue. You grimace, her mouth full of half-chewed food and look away when she chuckles at your response. A frown pulls at your mouth and you wonder if Anu was always this uncouth or if the circumstances of her life have it difficult for her to realise the seriousness of the situations she is in. "What? Not proper enough for you?" Anu asks, her voice taunting. "Perhaps you prefer your royal companions to someone from Ishari?" You shake your head, scowling at her. "That is not true. I just prefer someone who does not talk with her mouth full." Anu scoffs at you. "We are in a time of war. How I eat my meals does not matter, not when it could be my last." <</if>> [[Next.|chp6_40d2]]

You lapse into silence, uncertain if it is because Anu is focussed on devouring everything in sight or because your eyes keep drifting towards the terse conversation between your mother and Princess Lamahu. Their voices are too low for you to hear what they are saying, but from the way your mother frowns at Princess Lamahu, you know that it is nothing good. Anu follows your gaze and shakes her head. "They are always bickering, you know. Pay it no mind, $name." Her words catch you by surprise and you turn to stare at Anu. From the ease at which she spoke about your mother's relationship with Princess Lamahu, it is evident that Anu seems to know your mother far better than you do. <<set $chp6_40d2 to 0>> [["Is this how they always are?" you ask, curious to know more about your mother.|chp6_40d3][$chp6_40d2 +=1]] [["I do not care about my mother's friendships," you mutter, tired of discussing her life.|chp6_40d3][$chp6_40d2 +=2]] [["You seem to know my mother better than I do," you breathe.|chp6_40d3][$chp6_40d2 +=3]] [["Are you not curious as to what they are discussing?" you question. "It might impact the outcome of the alliance."|chp6_40d3][$chp6_40d2 +=4]]

<<if $chp6_40d2 is 1>> "Is this how they always are?" you ask, curious to know more about your mother. Anu glances at $mama, her lips pressing into a frown before her grey eyes are on you once more. You gaze at Anu, wanting to know more about your mother, even if it comes from a woman you have only known for a few days. "Sometimes," Anu replies. "I have not accompanied High Priestess Salyra for all of her meetings with Her Highness, but every time they meet, they end up bickering." You nod, swallowing a hard lump. It does not matter that Anu knows your mother this well, you tell yourself. After all, you were in Salt Bay and $mama was here in Ishari. How could you even begin to know the woman you have not seen in two decades? Anu stares at you, her eyes searching. "Your mother keeps things close to her chest, $name," Anu explains. "I might know about the way she is with others, but she has not confided in me about her true thoughts." You know that Anu is trying to assauge the thoughts that plague you and you force away the emotions that rise, like a wave about to swallow you into the ocean. <<elseif $chp6_40d2 is 2>> "I do not care about my mother's friendships," you mutter, tired of discussing her life. $mama left you all those years ago and now, it seems that no matter where you go, she is always there like a bad reminder of the life she had without you. It sends a swirl of fury through you and you glare at the table, wanting nothing more than to scream out to the world that you want nothing to do with $mama. "I suppose you would not," Anu replies after a moment. "She is a stranger to you." You blink, surprised by Anu's words. Looking up, you meet her gaze and she shrugs, offering you a small smile. "A few of the children that are brought to the temple sometimes are reunited with their families," Anu explains. "But some choose to remain with their foster family. It is easier for them. Perhaps, it will be easier for you too." <<elseif $chp6_40d2 is 3>> "You seem to know my mother better than I do," you breathe. The words leave you in a rush of air and you stare at Anu, confused and slightly hollow at the notion. Anu gazes at you, her grey eyes widening for a moment before she looks down at the meal before her. She does not speak and you fear that she will not answer you, but then, she looks at you with an uncertain expression. "I... High Priestess Salyra is the one who trained me when I discovered that I had the divine blessings of Ehulla," she explains. "In that time, I came to know her better than most. But do not be fooled, $name. Apart from Danzor, no one truly seems to know your mother." Her words leave you reeling with a thousand thoughts. Your mother is the High Priestess and yet, no one knows her? It cannot be true, but the longer you look at Anu, the harder it becomes to doubt the sincreity in her gaze. A breath escapes you and you turn away, your fingers digging into the wood of the table. It seems that only Danzor, the man your mother seemed so close with, knows the woman that is your mother. A dark thought fills you then. Did Ahlf know $mama the way Danzor knows her? The notion is a laughable one that leaves you doubting everything you know about $mama. <<elseif $chp6_40d2 is 4>> "Are you not curious as to what they are discussing?" you question. "It might impact the outcome of the alliance." Anu glances at $mama before shrugging. She chews and swallows, unbothered by the hushed conversation. Your forehead creases in confusion. Does Anu not care or is she already aware of the nature of the words shared between Princess Lamahu and your mother? "Whatever happens tonight will not change what we have been facing for years," Anu huffs. "The Blood Guard has continued to attack our people and even with an alliance, it will not stop them." "But an alliance would mean an end to the Blood Guard in the future," you explain. "Prince Irus will reclaim the throne-" "And then what?" Anu asks. "He will sit upon his throne and seize control over Ishari like the rest of his family?" You frown. "That is not what he intends on doing." Anu shrugs. "Look, I would not worry too much about what your mother is speaking to Her Highness about. High Priestess Salyra wants peace as much as your comapnions do. The alliance is not at risk simply because she bickers with her friend." <</if>> [[Next.|chp6_40d4]]

Your eyes slip away from $mama and Princess Lamahu, a breath escaping you. The chatter around you fades into a swirl of noise, the din of the room low in your ears. Anu's eyes finds yours in the dimness of the room, the oil lamps casting a dull glow against her rich skin. She stares at you for a moment, as if deciding whether to voice her thoughts or not. A moment passes in silence before Anu seems to settle on an answer. She speaks, her voice soft and lacking the brashness of her usual tone. "What you did for the prisoners will not be forgotten, $name," she murmurs. "I... Sargon hated that I forced you to help us." She looks away, suddenly sheepish. "I wanted to test your loyalty, I suppose. Forgive me if I pushed you too far." <<set $chp6_40d4 to 0>> [["You do not need to apologise," you reply, smiling. "I am happy that I could help free those who were imprisoned."|chp6_40d5][$chp6_40d4 +=1, $anuRel +=5]] [["I..." you mumble, surprised by her apology. "Thank you."|chp6_40d5][$chp6_40d4 +=2, $anuRel +=5]] [["I refuse to forgive you," you spit. "Not when you seem to consider nothing by your own goals."|chp6_40d5][$chp6_40d4 +=3, $anuRel -=5]] [[♡"Oh," you mumble, flushing under her gaze. "I mean... it is alright."|chp6_40d5][$chp6_40d4 +=4, $anuRel +=5, $anuRom +=5]] [[♡"Perhaps, you can test more than my loyalty next time," you tease.|chp6_40d5][$chp6_40d4 +=5, $anuRel +=5, $anuRom +=5]]

<<if $chp6_40d4 is 1>> "You do not need to apologise," you reply, smiling. "I am happy that I could help free those who were imprisoned." Anu looks at you as if startled by your response. Had she expected anger instead of understanding? Slowly, as if uncertain of herself, Anu returns your smile. You are struck by the softness in her gaze, the harshness that often settles over her expression fading until she is just another woman and not a warrior priestess who has had to fight so hard. "You are quite annoying," Anu huffs. "How can a person be as kind as you?" There is a teasing lilt to her tone, her smile widening into a grin as she gazes at you. But beneath the grey of her eyes, you note the look of admiration, a strange sight that leaves you flushed with warmth. You never thought you would have inspired such strong feelings in Anu. "It comes with years of practice," you answer, laughing. "Truly, you do not need to apologise, Anu. I do not hold it against you." Anu nods, offering you a smile of her own. "Thank you, $name." <<elseif $chp6_40d4 is 2>> "I..." you mumble, surprised by her apology. "Thank you." Anu is often brash and seems to lash at out against those around her, but seeing her now, small and nearly cowed by her past actions leaves you breathless. A flicker of remorse shifts through Anu's eyes and she looks away as though the sight of you only serves to remind her of what she asked from you. "You are meant to be angry," she mumbles. "Not forgiving." Your eyebrows furrow. Had she expected anger? Shaking your head, you gaze at Anu with a frown. She looks up at you, her grey eyes meeting your stare and she holds it quietly. "You apologised, Anu," you answer. "That is enough for me." Anu smiles, her breath coming out sharp and in disbelief. "You have low expectations then. Forgiving me is a foolish thing to do, $name. I am bound to hurt you sooner rather than later. It is just the way things are with me." There is a hollow sound in her tone as though she talks from experience. When Anu looks at you, you are surprised to find that she wears a look that reminds you all too much of yourself in your early childhood, hurt and pushed away by those around you. You cannot imagine what Anu must have experienced to have left her looking so sorrowful but it is a look you understand well. "That is alright," you answer. "I am willing to take that risk." <<elseif $chp6_40d4 is 3>> "I refuse to forgive you," you spit. "Not when you seem to consider nothing by your own goals." The anger of being forced into a dangerous situation all to prove your worth has left you silently raging in the hours after the rescue. Anu stares at you, her expression hard as though she expected your retort. You narrow your eyes at her, furious when she only looks away, not responding. "Do you even care about others or is it all about how many people you can kill with your fiery sword?" you demand. Anu turns to look at you. She is glowering and for a moment, there is a flicker of gold in her eyes, like the sun. "You do not know anything about me," Anu mutters. "I apologised so you either accept or you do not. I am in no mood for an argument, $name." <<elseif $chp6_40d4 is 4>> "Oh," you mumble, flushing under her gaze. "I mean... it is alright." You avert your eyes, suddenly shy and unable to form words. Your throat is tight and you swallow, wanting to dislodge the lump there. It is hard to breathe when your face grows warm and your skin grows clammy with sweat. It is suddenly too crowded and you wish to flee from the table, knowing that Anu is still staring at you. Anu chuckles and the sound of it is enough to draw your attention towards her. You become flustered at the light sound of her voice, transfixed by the mirth in her expression. She is beguiling under the glow of the oil lamps, the way a coiled serpent basking in the sun might be considered beautiful. "Do not look at me like that, $name," she chuckles. "Or I might be tempted to do more than apologise with my words." A shudder runs down your spine and your stomach twists at the insinuation in her voice. "I... that is..." you mumble, unable to voice your thoughts. She shakes her head, amused. "You have forgiven me then?" You can only nod in response, drawing another laugh from Anu. Her laughter is infectious and musical. Your cheeks flush darker at her amusement. You find yourself relaxing in her company. The atmosphere between the two of you has shifted, becoming less tense and more intimate. The thought sends a surge of heat through you and you look away, unable to meet Anu's gaze any longer. <<elseif $chp6_40d4 is 5>> "Perhaps, you can test more than my loyalty next time," you tease. Your words draw a surprised laugh from Anu and she draws closer, her grey gaze shifting over your features. She takes in your appearance, her lips curving into a smile as she stares at you with an intensity that makes your stomach twist in anticipation. A flicker of want glimmers in her grey eyes and you exhale sharply, feeling heat creep along your spine. "And what do you suggest I test, hm?" she asks. "Shall we spar with each other? Or shall I teach you how to dance like a sand dancer?" Her eyes drop to your mouth. "Or are you suggesting we scandalise the priestesses in a more physical form?" Her tone is teasing. The corner of her mouth twitches up in a smirk as her eyes dart back to yours. You cannot stop the thudding of your heartbeat or the rush of blood in your ears at the prospects of spending more time with Anu. From the way she stares at you, you realise that she is as eager as you to do more. "I do enjoy the sound of spending more time with you," you respond, grinning. "A pity that we are not alone then, hm?" Anu laughs, resting her chin against the palm of her hand. "It is no matter, my Sweet. We shall have enough time together when we return to the temple." <</if>> Your conversation with Anu is interrupted when the attendants begin to clear the table. You realise that you will not be able to continue your conversation with her, not when the attendants are bustling around you. Glancing at Princess Lamahu, you wonder if she will be willing to discuss the alliance now. [[Next.|chp6_41]]

Prince Irus stiffens, his blue eyes flicking towards Princess Lamahu. You notice the way Princess Lamahu gazes at him, as though she is seeing something that she does not like. A flicker of remorse darts through her expression but when you peer closer, it is gone as though you had imagined it. Glancing at Prince Irus, you find that there is a sliver of nervousness in the way he looks at Princess Lamahu. You cannot fault him. The weight of tonight is heavy and if the alliance is refused, Prince Irus will be without the support of those most experienced in challenging the Blood Guard. <<set $chp6_42 to 0>> [[You offer him an encouraging smile.|chp6_43][$chp6_42 +=1]] [[You hope that he is able to sway Princess Lamahu to his side.|chp6_43][$chp6_42 +=2]] [[You tremble with fear at the thought of the alliance discussions going poorly.|chp6_43][$chp6_42 +=3]] [[You are confident that Prince Irus will succeed in securing the alliance.|chp6_43][$chp6_42 +=4]]

<<if $chp6_42 is 1>> You look at Prince Irus, drawing his attention away from Princess Lamahu. A smile pulls at your lips and you nod at him, hoping to assure him. Prince Irus lets out a breath and some of the tension in his shoulders eases. He mouths a silent word of gratitude before he turns to face Princess Lamahu, no longer as nervous as he had been moments earlier. <<elseif $chp6_42 is 2>> From what you have gathered about Princess Lamahu, she seems to be a difficult woman to please. She is not uncertain of herself, her reign solidified through birth and not through the same tension that surrounds Prince Irus and the throne that was taken from him. You know that Prince Irus is not nearly as experienced as Princess Lamahu and you can only hope that he will be able to persuade her in seeing the benefits of an alliance. <<elseif $chp6_42 is 3>> You have seen what the chaos of war can do. The Blood Guard have been trained for years in killing and destroying those who were deemed to be enemies. When you fled Salt Bay, people were killed simply for the sake of searching for Prince Irus. It did not matter that they were not from Ishari or that they did not worship the Ancient Ones. It is clear that the war cannot end without an alliance. <<elseif $chp6_42 is 4>> After everything that you and Prince Irus have endured together, you have seen him progress from an inept prince to someone who would make a fine and fair leader. You know that he will be able to persuade Princess Lamahu into accepting an alliance and as you glance at him, you feel a surge of confidence, knowing that after tonight, you will have a greater chance at succeeding in ending Virion's reign. <</if>> "Your Highness," Prince Irus speaks, his eyes filled with a steady determination. "There has been much bloodshed between our people. It has caused the suffering of so many in Ishari and I fear that with my uncle on the throne, the threat of the Blood Guard will expand far beyond the borders of your realm." Princess Lamahu frowns. "Why should I care about the other regions? My concern is for my people." "Your people are reliant on the aid of others," Prince Irus explains. "What will happen to your warriors if Lord Redall no longer supplies them with weapons because he is busy defending the border of Vinia? Can you truly shy away from an alliance when your people depend on the surrounding regions for aid?" A bitter laugh escapes Princess Lamahu. She drinks deeply from her goblet and when she speaks, her voice is hollow and small. "You remind me of him," she breathes. "He used to speak about alliances too." "Who?" Queen Elora asks, leaning forward. Princess Lamahu casts her a look of irritation as if annoyed that her thoughts were interrupted. She turns away, her eyes hard as she stares at Prince Irus. "I am talking about your father, King Erlan," she explains. "We were betrothed once and then, we were not." Her words leave you reeling. Princess Lamahu and King Erlan were betrothed? Your mind tries to make sense of it but you cannot bring yourself to understand how Princess Lamahu would have ever married a man like King Erlan. You glance at Prince Irus and find that all signs of the regal man gone. He sits, eyes wide and stares at Princess Lamahu. It becomes clear that he is wordless, unsure of himself. You realise that you will need to break the silence, if only to glean answers from Princess Lamahu. <<set $chp6_43 to 0>> [["How were you betrothed?" you ask. "The regions are at war."|chp6_44][$chp6_43 +=1]] [[You look to your mother and ask, "Did you know about this?"|chp6_44][$chp6_43 +=2]] [["But if you were betrothed, why did you not marry?" you question.|chp6_44][$chp6_43 +=3]]

<<if $chp6_43 is 1>> "How were you betrothed?" you ask. "The regions are at war." Princess Lamahu turns to look at you, her lips pressing into a thin line. You refuse to cower, not when there are so many things that are unanswered. Your companions turn their eyes towards Princess Lamahu, seeking her response to your question and she shifts, suddenly sighing as though exhausted. "We were not always at war," she breathes. "You are too young to remember a time before the war but once, Ishari and Cyre were one and marriage between the two regions were common." Her voice is hollow and the tiredness seeps into the darkness of her eyes, making her suddenly look much older. She rubs her forehead, a frown pulling at the corners of her mouth as she stares at the table. "The Kingdom of Cyre was often ruled jointly through marriage," she murmurs. "The throne would vest in the joint powers of Ishari and Cyre, but things changed when we did not marry." <<elseif $chp6_43 is 2>> You look to your mother and ask, "Did you know about this?" Your mother stiffens under your gaze, her eyes widening at your question. She looks to Princess Lamahu as if seeking guidance but when she receives none, her eyes return to you. Your mother swallows, her eyebrows furrowing when she speaks, a look of regret in her expression. "I did," she responds. "Why did you not say anything earlier?" you ask. $mama frowns. "It is not truly my tale to tell, $name." Princess Lamahu scoffs in response. Her eyes narrow as she regards your mother, the glower in her eyes enough to make your mother flinch. "Do not lie to your $heir," she mutters. Princess Lamahu glances at you. "Your mother was very involved in everything, back then, $name. She was a priestess and one blessed by the Ancient Ones. I often sought her counsel in the early years of our friendship." <<elseif $chp6_43 is 3>> "But if you were betrothed, why did you not marry?" you question. Princess Lamahu looks away, her forehead creasing as she frowns. She does not speak for a moment and you steal a glance at your mother, noticing the stiffness in her posture and the strange expression on her face. "We worship the Ancient Ones in Ishari," Princess Lamahu murmurs. "Those who sit upon the throne are meant to enact the will of the divine. We are their vessels and our decisions must reflect their divine instructions." You frown in confusion, not understanding what Princess Lamahu means. It is evident by the way Ishari has been shaped that worship of the Ancient Ones has heavily influenced the culture of its people, but as you gaze at Princess Lamahu, you are uncertain what her worship has to do with her marriage to King Erlan. "I do not understand," you mumble. Princess Lamahu glances at you. "You would not, so allow me to explain. I am limited in what I able to do, because our law is derived from the teachings of the Ancient Ones. I cannot make a decision without seeking counsel from the High Priests and Priestesses of the temples." <</if>> [[Next.|chp6_45]]

Princess Lamahu's words cast a heavy silence over the room, broken only by the crackle of fire in the oil lamps. As you gaze at the woman who reigns Ishari in the stead of her ailing father, her strange looks at Prince Irus suddenly begin to make sense. He must remind her of King Erlan and the knowledge is like a stone pit in your stomach. Will she hold Prince Irus' parentage against him? "I..." Prince Irus breathes, his voice strained. "There is a reason why neither you nor my father married. What stopped you?" Princess Lamahu glances at $mama, her eyes hard. "I received counsel from the High Priestess." Everyone turns to stare at $mama, but she does not look at them. Her eyes move towards Prince Irus and linger there for a moment before she looks at you, remorse heavy in her gaze. "What do you mean?" Queen Elora demands. "The High Priestess warned againt the marriage?" $mama nods. "My divine blessings are different from Anu's. I am not nearly as skilled in wielding divine weapons but I am adept at communing with the Ancient Ones. They warned me that a union between Her Highness and Erlan would only bring death to us all. I... The visions are difficult to make sense but they did not relent and I had to follow them." Your mother's words are soft, but it is as if she is yelling for the room is silent, the tension like a serpent, squeezing until no one dares to breathe. <<set $chp6_45 to 0>> [[You stare at your mother in disbelief. The entire war is her fault.|chp6_46][$chp6_45 +=1]] [["You trusted in visions?" you demand. "And for what? The war still happened."|chp6_46][$chp6_45 +=2]] [["You could not have known that the war would have happened if they did not marry," you murmur.|chp6_46][$chp6_45 +=3]] [[You are overwhelmed by the revelations of your mother's actions, uncertain how to feel.|chp6_46][$chp6_45 +=4]] [["Your visions were not true," you breathe. "Why did you follow them?"|chp6_46][$chp6_45 +=5]]

<<if $chp6_45 is 1>> You stare at your mother in disbelief. The entire war is her fault. How much has your mother influenced in her time as a priestess? You cannot imagine the war occuring if the marriage between Princess Lamahu and King Erlan had been allowed to proceed. The war began when King Erlan claimed that the worship of the Ancient Ones was banned. He sought to destroy the region to rid any symbol of the Ancient Ones and as you take in your mother's words, the weight of what she seems to have caused, it is difficult not to attribute the war to your mother's actions. "I never thought that this would happen," $mama breathes. "It... the visions had been clear that a union would result in death but..." "But there was still a war and death," you retort. $mama is quiet, unable to respond. She looks away from your stare as she wrings her hands. Did King Erlan start a war, seeking revenge against your mother's counsel? Had her visions only led her to cause the death she supposedly saw? You do not get your answers from $mama as her silence only grows. <<elseif $chp6_45 is 2>> "You trusted in visions?" you demand. "And for what? The war still happened." Your mother flinches at your tone and looks away. Her fingers tremble and when she catches you staring at them, she draws her hands under the table. Shaking her head at you, $mama stares with wide, imploring eyes that seeks understanding. But you turn away. How can you understand when so much seems to have been caused by her? "I did not... the visions were real," she breathes. "At first, I refused to listen to them. The marriage had been agreed upon by both sides. I did not want to-" "But you listened to the visions," you reply. "You counselled against a marriage." $mama nods. She stares at the table, her voice low when she speaks. "I did. They refused to leave me, $name. For months, I would see the same thing. Ishari laid in ruins and its people were dead." You shake your head at $mama. Ishari has been under attack for years by the Blood Guard, all under the command of King Erlan. Even with the marriage being prevented, it seemed not to have prevented the war and bloodshed. <<elseif $chp6_45 is 3>> "You could not have known that the war would have happened if they did not marry," you murmur. Your voice is soft and despite the stares you get from your companions, it is understanding. $mama is a priestess and you have seen glimmers of the divine blessings in the gaze of her eyes. If she truly listened to her visions in order to stop the death of so many, could she have truly foreseen what would have happened? "I... I did not," $mama breathes. "I thought for a time that I had lost my senses. Perhaps I was mad for hearing the voices of the Ancient Ones. But they were endless, $name. They tormented me with the sight of a destroyed realm and the death of our people." Her words remind you of what you have already witnessed outside the palace walls. Ishari has been wracked by war and deaths despite Princess Lamahu listening to your mother's counsel. You cannot help but wonder if this has all been fate or a cruel stroke of coincidence. <<elseif $chp6_45 is 4>> You are overwhelmed by the revelations of your mother's actions, uncertain how to feel. There are a myriad of thoughts that shift through your mind, rushing past before you can begin to make sense of them. King Erlan and Princess Lamahu did not marry because your mother counselled against it. Yet, a war still occurred and many have been killed by the Blood Guard in their command to destroy Ishari and its people. Your mother stares at you, her eyebrows furrowed and her expression filled with guilt. "I never meant for this to happen," she breathes. "The visions told me that a marriage would bring suffering to our people and..." "You were wrong," you whisper. $mama looks away as though you have struck out at her physically. She curls into herself, a broken bird afraid of being eaten by the beasts around her. "I was," she breathes. <<elseif $chp6_45 is 5>> "Your visions were not true," you breathe. "Why did you follow them?" $mama shakes her head at you, her eyes filling with unshed tears. She looks away from you, her fingers twisting together as she stares at the table. There is a fragility about $mama, as though she will break apart if caught in a breeze. The longer you gaze at her, the more you begin to notice. She chews on her lower lip and her shoulders tremble. Is she weeping? You do not get an answer because she is wiping away at her eyes and looking at you once more. "I did not," she breathe. "Not at first. But the longer I ignored them, the worse they became. "High Priestess Etta said that I had to heed them, no matter what the consequences." "So you listened to another?" you ask. "It only brought war to Ishari." $mama frowns. "I have the divine blessings of the Ancient Ones, $name. Ignoring them is not nearly as easy as you think it might be." <</if>> [[Next.|chp6_47]]

It seems that everyone is reeling from the implications of your mother's words. Glancing around the room, you find similiar expressions of shock and confusion etched into the faces of your companions. You turn to look at Anu, but she refuses to meet your eyes, her face set into a hard expression. Had no one known about the betrothal between King Erlan and Princess Lamahu? As the silence stretches, the room begins to fill with an unspoken tension as though at any moment, someone will lash out. It is Princess Lamahu who breaks the terse atmosphere. Her eyes are dark and unwavering when she glances at Prince Irus. "Now that you know our history, tell me, Prince Irus, will you still propose an alliance?" Her question draws Prince Irus' gaze. As you gaze at him, you note the tense expression on his face. His hands curl around the table's edge, as if struggling to maintain his composure. When he speaks, there is a hardness in his tone that you have never heard before and it is enough to draw the stares of those gathered. "An alliance is the only way to stop the war," he breathes. "Regardless of your shared history with my father, even you cannot deny that this is the only way to stop the Blood Guard. My offer for an alliance stands, Your Highness. Are you willing to accept it?" [[Next.|chp6_48]]

Princess Lamahu's gaze shifts over Prince Irus, an unnerving look in her dark eyes. She does not speak as if she is weighing Prince Irus' words and determining if she can trust them. A moment passes and then, she turns away, sighing tiredly. "And these terms of your alliance, will you offer Ishari its independence?" she asks. "Yes," Prince Irus answers. She raises an eyebrow. "And trade? Will you allow for trade between our nations if you reclaim the throne?" "You will have your autonomy to do as you please," Prince Irus explains. "You will not be barred from trading with Cyre as you have in the past." A glint, sharp and cold flashes through her eyes. "And what about a marriage alliance? Some say the best way to end a war is through a union between the rulers of the warring realms." <<if $irus_lock is true>> Your heartbeat thuds faster and your breath becomes lodged in the back of your throat. Prince Irus stares at Princess Lamahu, her suggestion enough to draw his eyebrows together. You are uncertain what he is thinking and whether is considering accepting her proposal. The thought is enough to send a sharp stab through your chest. But then, Prince Irus is looking at you and he smiles softly. "I am afraid that I cannot agree to a marriage alliance. My heart belongs to another." Princess Lamahu glances at you, her grin unkind. "Yes, Salyra did mention that you were courting her $heir. Fate has a strange way of bringing two people together." <<else>> Princess Lamahu's words startle Prince Irus and he opens his mouth before closing it. You stare at her, uncertain if she is jesting or making a serious offer. The idea that she would consider marrying Prince Irus when she was once betrothed to his father is a difficult one to make sense of, but from the way she stares at Prince Irus, you realise that she has thought a great deal about it. "I..." Prince Irus mumbles, glancing at the rest of you. "I cannot accept a marriage alliance. It would feel strange, knowing that you once were betrothed to my father." "I suppose it must seem strange to you," Princess Lamahu responds. "But it is no matter." <</if>><<set $chp6_48 to 0>> [["Will you accept an alliance?" you ask.|chp6_49][$chp6_48 +=1]] [[You are nervous, too afraid to speak.|chp6_49][$chp6_48 +=2]] [[You try to glean Princess Lamahu's thoughts on the alliance.|chp6_49][$chp6_48 +=3]]

<<if $chp6_48 is 1>> "Will you accept an alliance?" you ask. Your words summon the gaze of Princess Lamahu and she turns, staring at you with an unreadable expression. Her gaze is unnerving but you do not cower under her scrutiny. She seems to be in deep consideration of your words, her eyes searching for an unnamed thing within you. A moment passes and then, she sighs, turning away from you. Her attention shifts towards Prince Irus and when she speaks, her tone is even, a calm sound that is in contrast with the the tension of the room. "Very well," she murmurs. "I will tentatively agree to an alliance. Prove your worth and honour your oaths and you will have the support of Ishari and all that it entails when you reclaim the throne." <<elseif $chp6_48 is 2>> You are nervous, too afraid to speak. It is hard to think when your heart thuds loudly, drowning out any semblance of thoughts from your mind. You stare at Princess Lamahu and then, glance at Prince Irus. Neither turns away from the other and as the silence begins to grow humid, the weight on your chest only tightens. When Princess Lamahu finally speaks, her voice is even and her tone measured. She is control of the outcome tonight and you know the if she refuses, you will be without a strong ally. "We have been at war for far too long," Princess Lamahu murmurs. "Who can say if it will ever end? But if you ensure that you keep your word then I will accept your alliance, Prince Irus." Prince Irus lets out a relieved breath, smiling slightly. "I assure you that an alliance will benefit us both." "I only hope that you are right," Princess Lamahu responds. "Betray my trust and you will be punished with the full wrath of my people." <<elseif $chp6_48 is 3>> You try to glean Princess Lamahu's thoughts on the alliance. There are many things that could go wrong tonight and Princess Lamahu's refusal of the alliance is foremost on your mind. It is difficult to read her expression, for her face is impassive and her eyes deep in thought. A glance at Prince Irus reveals that he too is masking the tension in his shoulders with a stiff expression on his face. Neither of them speaks for a moment and a bead of sweat runs down your back. It is torture to wait in the silence, your mind picking out things that could go wrong but in the haze of the quiet, you notice Princess Lamahu sighing. "I suppose the war has taken its toll on both sides," Princess Lamahu murmurs. "Very well. I shall accept your offer of an alliance." "Thank you," Prince Irus responds. "I will ensure that it will be an alliance of lasting peace." Princess Lamahu gazes at Prince Irus, nodding. "I trust that you will." <</if>> [[Next.|chp6_50]]

Princess Lamahu signals for her attendants and you startle as they slip towards the table, refilling the goblets around the table. When they depart, Princess Lamahu raises her gleaming goblet above her head. Her smile has not softened but the harshness in her gaze has eased as if the alliance has drawn out a sense of duty towards your companions. "Tonight will mark the beginning of a new age," she announces. "We will cast aside our differences for after tonight, we will be united against a common enemy that wields the power to destroy all that we know and cherish." The rest of you raise your goblets and you catch the relieved looks on the faces of your companions. You sip at your goblet, the taste of the honeyed milk, flavoured with cardamom strong against your tongue. As you set the goblet against the table, it dawns on you that you have secured the aid of Ishari. It leaves you feeling... <<set $chp6_50 to 0>> [[...pleased. You have done what you and Prince Irus had set out to accomplish.|chp6_51][$chp6_50 +=1]] [[...determined. With the aid of Ishari, you will stand a better chance at defeating the Blood Guard and Virion.|chp6_51][$chp6_50 +=2]] [[...anxious. You are growing closer to facing Virion and the Blood Guard and the thought terrifies you.|chp6_51][$chp6_50 +=3]] [[...eager. With the aid of Ishari, you look forward to testing your strength against Virion and the Blood Guard.|chp6_51][$chp6_50 +=4]] [[...hollow. You have secured the alliance, but it does not leave you as ecstatic as you thought it would.|chp6_51][$chp6_50 +=5]]

<<if $chp6_50 is 1>> There is a sense of pride that fills you, a glimmer of hope against the hardship and challenges that you and Prince Irus have had to overcome. With Ishari as an ally, you know that it will only be a matter of time before you confront the Blood Guard and Virion. But now, you are no longer alone. An alliance between Ishari and Cyre seemed nearly impossible only a few months ago and in the short time of his exile, Prince Irus has managed to garner allies that Virion will never have. The support you have gained tonight is a valuable one and you can only hope that it will aid you in winning the war and helping Prince Irus reclaim his throne. <<elseif $chp6_50 is 2>> Knowing that you have secured a powerful ally in the fight against the Blood Guard and Virion has filled you with determination. You are no longer alone in the war against those who would see many killed in the name of their ruler. As you glance around the table, taking in the faces of your companions, you know that after tonight, you will be far stronger than when you first arrived at the palace. Alone, it would have been a nearly impossible task to defeat Virion and for Prince Irus to have reclaimed his throne. But with the aid of the Ishari people, you know that you can overcome the dangers ahead of you. <<elseif $chp6_50 is 3>> You know that gaining the alliance of the Ishari people is a thing to be celebrated, but as you stare at the faces around you, you cannot stop the dread that fills your stomach and settles there like a coiled serpernt, writhing and twisting. Going to war means that there will be more death and bloodshed before there is peace and the thought sends fear through you. You cannot bring yourself to celebrate as joyously as your companions for your mind cannot push away thoughts of what is still to come. <<elseif $chp6_50 is 4>> You smile widely, ecastatic with the knowledge that you have secured an alliance with Ishari and its people. Without the alliance, your success against the Blood Guard and Virion seemed almost impossible. But now, with the combined strength of your allies, you will be formiddable opponents against the Blood Guard. The thought of finally going into battle against those who have killed so many with ruthless efficiency leaves you trembling with excitement. When you meet next, you will be ready for them and instead of cowering, you will prove that you are just as formiddable as those who would see you dead. <<elseif $chp6_50 is 5>> You have travelled far and endured more than you thought possible to finally secure an alliance with Ishari and yet, the knowledge of your success does not leave you as happy as the others around you. Swallowing, you look away from the expressions of your companions. It is hard to bring up any strong sense of emotion, not when your chest is hollow and your limbs feel leaden. Have you been through too much to truly appreciate the weight of your success? You cannot tell and trying to pluck any semblance of thoughts from your mind only leaves you hollow and exhausted. <</if>> Soon, the coaches are prepared for your return to the Temple of Ehulla. Your companions talk amongst themselves as you are led into the night's cool embrace. Gazing up, you find an endless sea of stars, bright and glimmering against the dark sky. You may have secured an alliance tonight, but there are still so many unanswered questions in your mind. Your companions may be smiling now, but you know how quickly things can change. It is with those dark thoughts that you clamber in the coach as you are carried back to Urur. [[Next.|Part_Three]]

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<<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "chp7" loop play>> <div class="heading">Part Three</div><div class="borderstyle">p</div> <div class="timeline">'The stars await you no matter your fate.' - Ishari Proverb</div> <center>[[Next.|chp7_start]]</center>

<<set $location to "The city of Urur, Ishari">><div class="timeline">The city of Urur, Ishari.</div> It has been nearly a month since your return to Urur. The spring air has only grown warmer as summer approaches and you find yourself once more in the Temple of Ehulla, your room still cramped and too warm. Beads of sweat gather along the nape of your neck and you swipe your skin, feeling weary in the early morning. In the weeks since your return from Sangasu and meeting Princess Lamahu, your mind has been wracked with thoughts of your mother's actions and the war that seems to have stemmed from her involvement. As your thoughts turn to $mama, you find that you... <<set $chp7 to 0>> [[...are finding it more difficult to trust her.|chp7_1][$chp7 +=1]] [[...are infuriated by the acts your mother has taken.|chp7_1][$chp7 +=2]] [[...feel exhausted with the revelations of your mother's involvement.|chp7_1][$chp7 +=3]] [[...do not know what to make of your mother and her actions.|chp7_1][$chp7 +=4]] [[...cannot bring yourself to care about what your mother has done.|chp7_1][$chp7 +=5]]

<<if $chp7 is 1>> Your mother has been hiding much from you and the more you uncover, the more difficult it is to trust her words. She did not speak of her involvement with Princess Lamahu and the war, leaving you as surprised as everyone else seemed to feel during the night in Sangasu. But there is more than that. Your thoughts tumble in your mind as they try to grasp the meaning of your mother's increasing furtiveness. She did not speak about your birth, but from Princess Lamahu's knowledge and pointed words, you cannot help but wonder what else your mother is keeping from you. <<elseif $chp7 is 2>> As the weeks have passed, your anger has only grown with it. Your mother has seemed to have had a hand in much of the war and Princess Lamahu's life and perhaps if she had simply refrained from engaging in the affairs of nobles, none of you would have found yourselves in the situation that you are in. Your mother's disregard for the consequences of her actions has become a infuriating thing to contend with. She has acted, it seems, without a care for how it would affect others or you. Perhaps if she had only stopped to think about your future, she would not have thrown it all away to join a war that you never wanted to be a part of. <<elseif $chp7 is 3>> Your shoulders ache and there is a heaviness in your chest as you stare at your hands. Tiredness, like an illness, clings to your thoughts and threatens to drag you back into the bed that you sit upon. It is difficult to make sense of your mother's actions when for so long, she has seemed to act without caring how it would affect others. Thinking about $mama and all that she has done has only left you grasping for answers that you are uncertain you will ever receive. She has robbed you of a childhood and now, it appears that she still robs you of peace as you struggle to push past the haze that fills your mind. <<elseif $chp7 is 4>> There are a number of questions that slip past your mind, but none of them find an answer. You do not know what your mother's actions caused and what she still keeps from you. It is hard to know how this will affect the outcome of the war and whether or not she has cost you more than your relationship with her. Knowing what you do has only left you struggling to understand your feelings towards your mother. Not for the first time, you suddenly long for the days when you had nothing but fish guts for company in Salt Bay. Life seemed so much simpler then and you suddenly envy the life you used to have. <<elseif $chp7 is 5>> A sigh escapes you, slow and full of tiredness. Your limbs ache from sleeping in the too-hard cot and your tunic sticks to your skin in the heat of the morning. Thinking about your mother has elicited no strong emotions from you. After everything that you have been through, it is difficult to feel anything for your mother's actions. The past cannot be undone and it is that thought that has left you strangely at peace with everything. You are numb to your mother and her involvement in the war. After all, nothing you say to her or demand from her will change what has already happened and bringing yourself to care proves to be an impossible task. <</if>> Regardless of your mother and her past actions, there is one thing you can be certain of - the war is coming and the recent alliance with Ishari will be a difficult one to strengthen in the coming weeks. It is with this thought that you finally push yourself away from the small room, desperate to leave the confines of your thoughts. [[Next.|chp7_2]]

The month of Afih has brought with it warmer breezes and flowering trees in the middle of the temple's courtyard. Around you, there is a cacophony of voices, laughing children, singing birdsong and chatter from those who live within the walls of the temple. The air is tinged with sweetness and heavy smoke, as the morning prayers are concluded by the priestesses. Your eyes are drawn towards the priestesses donned in their ceremonial robes as they filter through the long hallways of the temple. They talk amongst themselves, perhaps lighter now that $mama has returned to guide them in their worship. As your thoughts turn to your mother once more, you glimpse her familiar strides as she pauses to speak with a few of the temple's residents. In the time since your return, you have... <<set $chp7_2 to 0>> [[...avoided your mother, not wanting to speak to her.|chp7_3][$chp7_2 +=1, $salyraRel -=5]] [[...kept your distance from your mother, but you are not avoiding her.|chp7_3][$chp7_2 +=2]] [[...tried to rebuild your relationship with your mother and have sought her out on most days.|chp7_3][$chp7_2 +=3, $salyraRel +=5]]

<<if $chp7_2 is 1>> Avoiding your mother has proven to be a difficult task. She is the High Priestess and many in the temple, including the warriors seem to follow her leadership without much question. If your mother has noticed you leaving the room when she is near or pointedly ignoring her gazes, she has not brought it up with you. But from the amount of times she has simply been near, you suspect that she hopes that you will change your mind about spending more time with her. The thought leaves a bitter taste in the back of your mouth. Spending time with the woman who has done so much in the time that you were apart feels as if you are spending time with a stranger. Neither of you know each other very well, not in the two decades that you have grown apart. You do not want to spend time with $mama, not when you do not know the woman she is and she still sees you as the child you are not. <<elseif $chp7_2 is 2>> Seeing your mother in the temple is a consequence of her status as the High Priestess. There is still so many emotions that fill you at the thoughts of your mother and the effect her absence has had on you. You have maintained your distance from your mother, uncertain if you will ever bridge the chasm that has formed between the both of you. But perhaps it is your mother's actions that are more telling than your own. She has sought you out in quiet moments, talking to you in slow, halted words as if afraid that she will scare you away. While you are not avoiding your mother entirely, you cannot deny your suspicions that $mama wishes for you to be closer. It is a complicated affair, one that you wish you did not have to confront but the longer you remain in the Temple of Ehulla, the more difficult, you realise, it is to maintain your distance from your mother indefinitely. <<elseif $chp7_2 is 3>> As a child, you longed for the day when you would have nothing to stand between you and your mother. Now that you are in Ishari, in the temple where your mother occupies, it seems that for the first time, fate has granted you this wish. Your mother is revered in the temple, but that has not stopped you from spending time with her. She has welcomed you, eagerly at first then, more cautiously as you both began to learn about each other again. The twenty years that you were apart has left a gap in the memories between you. Neither you nor your mother are quite certain about the person you both have become, but you are pleased to know that in time, you have begun to mend the relationship between you. $mama has found you on most days, drawing you into her private chambers in the temple or speaking to you on the courtyard. While some of the younger priestesses and warriors seem pleased by your relationship with your mother, you find that the older residents have accepted you with less enthusiasm. Only time will tell if they will come between you and $mama. <</if>> [[Next.|chp7_4]]

Your mother's dark eyes slip towards you and she stops, gazing at you with an intensity that forces you to look away. She approaches you, her robes fluttering in the breeze around her and when she comes to stand before you, your nose is filled with the rich scents of incense and perfume. "$name," $mama greets. She hesitates, as if noticing that those around you watch in interest. "Come, let us talk in the shade." "What is this about?" you ask, following her towards an alcove of the temple's outer walls. A breath leaves your mother, her eyes softening as she takes in your appearance. For a moment, she does not speak and you begin to question whether her hesitation is a sign of her nervousness or something deeper. "I... I have been speaking to Danzor and I think it would be good for you to meet him," she breathes. <<if $chp6_19 is 1>>"I know that you want nothing to do with Danzor or Rana, but will you not rethink your decision?"<<elseif $chp6_19 is 2>>"They are eager to know more about you, $name."<<elseif $chp6_19 is 3>>"I know that you are uninterested in spending time with Danzor, but he wishes to meet you, $name, especially if you are to spend time with Rana."<<elseif $chp6_19 is 4>>"I am not asking that you accept them as family, but I think it would do you good to speak to them."<</if>> Your mother had broached the topic of speaking to Danzor and Rana before you met Princess Lamahu and secured an alliance. Nearly a month has passed and since then, you have had more time to decide what it is that you wish to do. <<set $chp7_4 to 0>> [["No," you breathe. "I do not wish to speak to Danzor or Rana. They are not my family and they never will be."|chp7_5][$chp7_4 +=1, $rana_rel to false, $danzor_rel to false]] [["I would like to meet them both," you answer. "It would be good to learn more about them."|chp7_5][$chp7_4 +=2, $rana_rel to true, $danzor_rel to true]] [["It is only Rana that I seek a relationship with," you explain. "I want nothing to do with Danzor."|chp7_5][$chp7_4 +=3, $rana_rel to true, $danzor_rel to false]] [["I am willing to speak to them both," you respond. "But do not expect anything more from me."|chp7_5][$chp7_4 +=4, $rana_rel to false, $danzor_rel to false]]

<<if $chp7_4 is 1>> "No," you breathe. "I do not wish to speak to Danzor or Rana. They are not my family and they never will be." Your mother's eyes widens and she lets out a sharp breath, her fingers tangling in the material of her robes. You turn away from the hurt in her eyes, as rage fills your mind with thoughts of her new family. She chose to leave you all those years ago and no amount of time can heal the pain that she has caused you by starting a new family. "$name," $mama breathes. "They //are// your family." A strangled laugh escapes you and you turn, your eyes narrowing as you glower at your mother. She meets your gaze before faltering, looking away from your glare. "My family is in Vinia," you spit. "A family that I could have known for years were it not for your selfishness. I want nothing to do with the new family you have created here in Ishari." Your mother's eyes flicker with hurt then pain, before she seems to settle on a hardness that forces you to take a step back. When she speaks, her voice is low, a coldness to it that had not been there before. "You may blame me for what you have endured," she whispers. "But you cannot cast the same blame on Danzor and Rana. They are not responsible for my choices, $name." You grin, your teeth flashing as anger laces your tone. "It is good to see you take responsibility for what you have caused, but it is a pity that it is only to protect your new family, $mama." [[Next.|chp7_6a]] <<elseif $chp7_4 is 2>> "I would like to meet them both," you answer. "It would be good to learn more about them." Your words come out softer than you intended but it does not escape your mother's notice. Her lips pull into a wide smile and she reaches out, as if to draw you into an embrace before hesitating. Despite what has happened and your agreement to meet with Danzor and Rana, neither of you can deny the deep chasm that has formed in the absence you have shared. "I am grateful," $mama breathes. "I know that you do not know Danzor well, but he has been eager to meet you since he learnt about you." You think about the older man you saw the night you discovered your mother. He is Rana's father and your mother's new partner. Knowing that he has spent much of his life with your mother leaves you slightly uncertain as to what to expect. Will he be as apprehensive about you as you are of him? "He is a good man, $name," your mother murmurs as if sensing your unease. "And a good father." Rana is lucky, you muse for it seems that she has a life that you have alway wondered about when you were a child. Would you have had friends and a family that doted on you if $mama and Ahlf had chosen to remain together? The question goes unanswered and you cannot help the ache that rises within your chest. [[Next.|chp7_6]] <<elseif $chp7_4 is 3>> "It is only Rana that I seek a relationship with," you explain. "I want nothing to do with Danzor." It is Rana that you share blood with, not Danzor. Perhaps there will be similarities between you and your half-sister and the thought leaves you curious about what you might discover. Danzor is a stranger to you. While he is Rana's father, the notion of accepting him into your life seems laughable. "I... I understand," $mama breathes. "He is Rana's father and he worries about how she might take meeting you." There is a strangeness in watching your mother fret over Rana and to an extent, Danzor. For years, you wondered what had become of her and whether she thought about you after leaving you with Ahlf. Seeing her concerned with Rana only serves to remind you of what you lost as a child. "You speak as if I am to be feared," you state. Your mother's eyes widens and she reaches out, as if to brush her hands over yours but something in your expression must make her rethink her gesture, for her hands fall to her sides. "Of course not, $name," she murmurs. "You are my $heir and nothing will change that. But you must understand that Rana is a sensitive child and Danzor only wishes to protect her." [[Next.|chp7_6]] <<elseif $chp7_4 is 4>> "I am willing to speak to them both," you respond. "But do not expect anything more from me." You would be a fool to deny your mounting curiosity to speak to the family that have spent their time with your mother when you did not know what to make of her absence. From what you know, Danzor and your mother have been together for longer than you have been with her. It is a hollow thought and leaves an ache in your chest that you do not think will ever fade. "Of course," $mama replies. "I would not expect you to do more than you are comfortable with." Your eyes find your mother's and despite her words of understanding, you cannot help but doubt whether she means them. There is a hopeful gleam in your mother's eyes, one that seems to imagine a life where you accept Danzor and Rana as your family. "Danzor has wanted to talk to you for some time now," $mama explains. "And Rana keeps asking me about your life. Perhaps you will be able to answer their questions, hm?" You look away, your chest constricting. "Perhaps." [[Next.|chp7_6]] <</if>>

Your mother falls silent as she gazes at you, a myriad of emotions flickering through her dark eyes. For years, she has played the role of mother and wife to her new family, while you remained with Ahlf in Salt Bay. Perhaps, in another life, things would have been different but what you are certain of is that you want nothing to do with Danzor and Rana. "I never meant to hurt you like this," $mama sighs. She looks away, her eyes glistening. "If only I had pushed your father more. I thought that I was keeping you safe but all I did was hurt our relationship." You frown. It is still difficult to understand the letters shared between your parents throughout your childhood and yet, you cannot help but wonder what it is that prevented your mother from returning for you. "What did Ahlf say to you to keep you away?" you demand. $mama glances at you, her eyes widening at your words. For a moment, she seems uncertain of how to respond but then, a determined look passes through her face. She wipes at her eyes, shaking her head. "I have his letters," she explains. "You can read them for yourself, $name. Perhaps it will make more sense to you." [[Next.|chp7_6a1]]

Your mother lets out a breath, her eyes softening as she regards you. There is something warm in her gaze and for a moment, you are reminded of a time when she was still just your mother and there was nothing more important to you than nestling into her arms. A peal of laughter draws your eyes away from your mother and you are reminded once again that nothing about her is the same from before. She is no longer just your mother - she is Rana's and the thought is enough to leave a pit in your stomach. Your mother seems unaware of the thoughts that darken your mind as she draws you further into the temple. You stumble, struggling to push away the nervousness that slithers along your spine and settles over your shoulders, like a coiled serpent waiting to strangle you. Her strides are long and she only pauses long enough to make certain that you are following her as she leads you through the narrow hallways of the temple's main chamber. Eventually, you come across a small opening that leads to a closed garden, hidden from the rest of the temple. But the flowering trees and birdsong is forgotten when your eyes settle upon Rana and Danzor, the two people who have known your mother for much longer than you. [[Next.|chp7_6b]]

Your mother leads you through the temple hallways with ease. It is hard to ignore the way the guards eye you as if you were a threat to your mother or the way the priestesses whisper when they think you are too far away to hear them. You steal a glance at your mother, but she seems to not notice the looks or chooses to ignore them. She walks briskly, her steps leading you away from the main chambers of the temple and towards a set of rooms that has been kept from you since your arrival. The air is cooler here and heavy with incense. Your mother pauses outside an ornate door, glancing at you softly. She gestures for you to enter and you step into the brightly lit room. Sunlight streams through the windows and basks the walls in gold. You glance at the low table at one side and the soft cushions that are scattered against the woven rug. Your mother moves to where a single chest sits, opening it to reveal scrolls and letters much like those kept in the jade chest by Ahlf. "These are your father's letters from over the years," she explains. "Here, you can go through them." As you approach the chest, your eyes catch sight of neatly pressed parchment, some duller with age while others seem as if they are only a few months' old. <<set $chp7_6a1 to 0>> [[You choose to read a yellowing parchment, nearly tearing at the corners.|chp7_6a2][$chp7_6a1 +=1]] [[A letter that seems to be stained in places draws your attention.|chp7_6a2][$chp7_6a1 +=2]] [[Your fingers pull out a letter that is still neat and appears to be the most recent of the pile.|chp7_6a2][$chp7_6a1 +=3]]

<<if $chp7_6a1 is 1>> The parchment nearly crumbles in your grasp and as you smooth down the creases, your eyes catch Ahlf's familiar handwriting, small and pressed together as if they were holding back his true thoughts. //Ezu, 525. I often wonder if you are true in your responses, Salyra. You have been gone for years now and the $heir you left behind weeps for you the longer you remain away. You knew that there would be consequences for remaining in Ishari. Why could you not listen to me? You know my feelings on $name so do not ask me to be cruel in having $MChim write to you. What false hope will you sow in $MChis mind with promises of returning when I cannot bring myself to believe your words? Years have gone by and still your letters bring me nothing but pain. I have tried my best in being the father you always thought me to be but it is a difficult task, Salyra. I have no means to ease $name's thoughts about you, not without having to explain your madness. Please, do what is right and give up this senseless war. -Ahlf.// <<elseif $chp7_6a1 is 2>> You draw out the letter, the corners creased as you smooth it down. There are dark splotches where the ink seems to have been smudged and as you peer closer, your nose tickles from the familiar smell of fish guts. //Afih, 534. Salyra. There is little to be said after reading your last correspondence. You have proven to be as selfish as those around me warned. $name has grown in the years that you chose to start a new family. Asking for $MChim to return will do more harm than good. You have lost sight of the $heir you left with me and believing that a new child will bring you closer is madness. I will not return to Ishari, not when the danger of those who would see you and $name dead still remains. $name does not need to know about your choices, Salyra. Life is hard but it is a simple one and $name will have better chances at survival if $MChe remains with me. We both know that too many years have gone by to expect things to go back to how it was. If anything, your actions have only proven the falseness of your words. Do not ask me to send $name back again. -Ahlf.// <<elseif $chp7_6a1 is 3>> The parchment is smooth under your fingers, still bright and not nearly as creased as the others. You frown, reminded of the letter your father had addressed to you when you fled from Salt Bay and the Blood Guard. Your heartbeat quickens when you realise that your parents were in communication with each other far more recently than you realised. //Cerura, 543. $name has grown into a capable $gender. It would seem that time away from your influence has let $MChim come to make $MChis own decisions. At times, when I look at $name, I am reminded of you. But there is little of your words that can change my mind. You have made your decision to remain in Ishari and that is hardly a world that $name belongs in. There is much that you have done already to make certain that $name is yours. Forgive me if I seem selfish for wanting to see myself in $name too. Perhaps, I will muster the courage to see $MChim return to you but there is too much danger, Salyra. You have a new child now. Give me more time with the one that we share. -Ahlf.// <</if>> As you stare at the letter in your hand, you find it difficult to make sense of the words you have just read. Your father's handwriting seems foreign to you now, words that he has voiced to your mother but never to you. <<set $chp7_6a2 to 0>> [[Your fingers tremble as your eyes burn with unshed tears of grief.|chp7_6a3][$chp7_6a2 +=1]] [[You clench your jaw and you struggle to contain a shout of rage as anger courses through you.|chp7_6a3][$chp7_6a2 +=2]] [[It is difficult to speak as your thoughts threaten to swallow your entire being, unable to understand what you have learnt.|chp7_6a3][$chp7_6a2 +=3]] [[Numbness spreads through you, tingling and cold as it seeps into your bones, knowing that there is nothing that you can do.|chp7_6a3][$chp7_6a2 +=4]] [[Your breath is lodged in your throat as you struggle to understand the myriad of emotions that surge through you.|chp7_6a3][$chp7_6a2 +=5]]

<<if $chp7_6a2 is 1>> Your fingers tremble as your eyes burn with unshed tears of grief. You blink, your throat tightening as you struggle to keep the burn in your eyes from slipping down your face. Your father's words haunt you as you swallow a shaky breath. He had been writing to your mother all these years and yet, he never told you about it. $mama glances at you, her gaze falling to where you still clutch at the letter. She frowns, reaching out then stopping when you can no longer keep your sobs at bay. The tears sting as they travel along your cheeks, like the heat of a flame that blisters and not warms. "$name," $mama breathes. "Please, do not weep. Your father was only trying his best. I... I cannot undo what has been done but I know that he tried to keep you safe." You shake your head, wiping away at your eyes as you thrust the letter back into the chest. There are too many scrolls and parchments to count. How often had your parents written to each other? How long was your father hoping to keep the truth from you? <<elseif $chp7_6a2 is 2>> You clench your jaw and you struggle to contain a shout of rage as anger courses through you. It is like the heat of flames, roaring and destructive as it swallows your thoughts and leaves behind fury like you have not known. You are furious at your father's actions, loathing that he chose to hide so much from you, even your mother's letters. A grunt of annoyance escapes your lips and your fingers tighten around the letter. The page nearly tears in your grasp and $mama startles, reaching out to stop you then hesitating when she notices your expression. She frowns, drawing back and when she speaks, her voice is low and hard. "I trusted your father to keep you safe, $name," she murmurs. "In a way, he protected you far better than I could have." A bitter laugh leaves her. "It would seem that he saw me as one of the dangers that he had to protect you from." You stare at your mother, uncertain what to make of her words or your father's actions. There is nothing that you can do to change what has happened, but the knowledge does not dampen your anger. It curls around you, tightening until you thrust the letter back into the chest, as if scorched by its touch. <<elseif $chp7_6a2 is 3>> It is difficult to speak as your thoughts threaten to swallow your entire being, unable to understand what you have learnt. They tumble in your mind, struggling for dominance as you try to make sense of what you have learnt. Your father had been in communication with $mama for years and yet, he kept it from you. You rake a hand over your face, your breathing coming out in shallow gasps. There are more questions now than before and you are uncertain if you will ever find the answers to them. Your mother glances at you, her eyebrows furrowing as her dark eyes flicker with concern. "He... he did what he thought was best for you," $mama breathes. "I know that it is hard, but please do not let your mind eat itself over this, $name." Your eyes find the letter again, still clutched in your hand and before you can rethink your actions, you place it back into the chest. There is nothing that you can do to find answers from your father, now that he is no longer here and it would seem that your mother is nearly as lost as you when it comes to making sense of his decisions. <<elseif $chp7_6a2 is 4>> Numbness spreads through you, tingling and cold as it seeps into your bones, knowing that there is nothing that you can do. It starts slowly, like the way rain seeps into your clothes and chills you deep in your bones. Your eyes scan over your father's handwriting, noting the loops and scratches where you imagine that he must have grown furious with the task. Yet, there is little of his emotion that fills you. It is hard to know the reason for the hollowness in your chest, the cold slowly expanding until breathing is all that seems to matter. Your mind feels heavy, the thoughts that often fill you, now silent. You blink, looking up at your mother and find that she is staring at you with a frown. "$name," she murmurs. "It is a shock, I understand that. But you must try to understand why your father did what he did. I suppose that he thought that he was protecting you and it a duty he would never abandon." Your mother's words slip over you, but they do little to rouse your thoughts or feelings. Instead, you place the letter in your father's handwriting onto the pile already gathered in the chest. <<elseif $chp7_6a2 is 5>> Your breath is lodged in your throat as you struggle to understand the myriad of emotions that surge through you. There is agner at first, curling around your chest until it is hard to breathe. How could your father have kept so much from you? Was he truly never going to tell you about your mother? But the anger does not last long as sorrow begins to prickle at the back of your eyes. You gasp, struggling not to sob in rage and grief from knowing that your life has never truly been your own. How much more must you be expected to endure from the actions of your parents? "$name," $mama calls. Her face is pinched in concern. "Please, do not let the actions of your father affect you this much. He only did what he thought was best. I... he is gone now. We cannot fault him now." You stare at your mother incredulously. She watches you, her fingers wringing and you suddenly wish that she would stop. Instead, you turn away, casting the letter back into the wooden chest and wanting nothing more than to erase your father's words from your mind. <</if>> As you stand in the small chamber with your mother, the sunlight now a cruel reminder of the happiness you are deprived of time and time again, you turn to your mother, broken and hurt. <<set $chp7_6a3 to 0>> [["I hate the both of you," you hiss. "It seems that I was cursed to forever seek parents that never existed."|chp7_6a4][$chp7_6a3 +=1, $salyraRel -=5]] [["I can never forgive Ahlf," you mutter. "He kept me from knowing you and from having a mother."|chp7_6a4][$chp7_6a3 +=2, $salyraRel +=5]] [["This is too much," you breathe. "I cannot make sense of this now."|chp7_6a4][$chp7_6a3 +=3]] [["I understand why Ahlf kept me away from you," you breathe. "You are not the mother that I deserve."|chp7_6a4][$chp7_6a3 +=4, $salyraRel -=5]] [["Hating you both would be a futile thing," you admit. "It will not ease my hurt nor will it change the past."|chp7_6a4][$chp7_6a3 +=5]]

<<if $chp7_6a3 is 1>> "I hate the both of you," you hiss. "It seems that I was cursed to forever seek parents that never existed." Your words spill past your lips, sharp and bitter like poison as you glare at your mother. For years, you have yearned for a family and for parents would not abadon you when you needed them the most. But as you stand there, reeling from the implications of your father's letters, you know that you will never receive the parents you need. "$name," $mama breathes, her eyes widening. "You are right to be angry and I wish that I could go back and change what happened." You scoff in derision. "You cannot change what you and Ahlf have already done. I spent my entire childhood seeking for something more, but you left me in Salt Bay and Ahlf could not bring himself to be the father I needed." Your mother turns away, her shoulders hunched as if curling away from your accusations. It only serves to cause the anger, the loathing, to fester until you are certain it will burst through your veins and tain you with a hatred that will never leave you. A strangled breath leaves you and your fingers bite into the palms of your hands. "Do you truly have nothing to say?" you demand. "After all these years, surely you must have known that I would want answers." When your mother looks at you, you note the crease in her forehead and the resigned expression on her face. It reminds you of a beast who has been cornered, knowing that there is no escaping its fate. You stare at your mother, your anger easing for a moment to give way to uncertainty. It churns in your stomach until you can no longer meet her gaze. "I never meant to hurt you and neither did your father," $mama responds. "We did what we thought was best and I fear that has only pushed you away. I... I wish things could have been different, $name. And you are right, you deserve more than what Ahlf or I could have offered you." You stare at your mother in surprise, having expected her to disagree. But as you turn to stare at her, taking in the grief in her dark eyes and the way her fingers trembles at her sides, you know that her words do not lack sincerity. You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry and the anger that slipped into your blood, now gone. Perhaps it is to avoid her hopeful stare that forces you to flee her presence. <<elseif $chp7_6a3 is 2>> "I can never forgive Ahlf," you mutter. "He kept me from knowing you and from having a mother." Your childhood had been a difficult one, one that left you seeking more from your father and yet, never receiving anything from him. Memories of $mama had been scarce and as you grew older, they had faded from your mind until conjuring her face or remembering the way her voice sounded had been an impossible task. For years, your father had been writing to your mother, keeping yet another thing a secret from you. Your chest tightens and your breath struggles to move past your throat. Ahlf kept you from knowing about your mother - he kept you from having any form of relationship with her when he knew how desperately you sought any form of answers about your mother's whereabouts. "$name," $mama breathes. She looks down, her expression twisted with conflicting emotions. "Your father did what he thought was best." You stare at your mother, incredulous by her words. "How can you defend his actions after everything that he has done?" "He took you in after I could no longer care for you," $mama replies. She shakes her head, turning away from your stare. "His anger towards me meant that he thought that I would make for a poor mother. I... I cannot fault him for his hurt feelings, $name. There is much that you do not know about your father and I." "Then tell me," you demand. "Why did he keep me from knowing you?" $mama lets out a sharp breath, the sound broken and hollow as she stares across the room. Her eyes sweep over the cushions and then, rests on the chest where more letters seem to have been secured with meticulous care. You never knew a time when your parents were together, when their complicated relationship had ever been filled with affection and from what you know of Ahlf, it is difficult to imagine them ever being in love. "I... I hurt your father," $mama murmurs. "An unforgiveable act, I suppose but he thought that I had betrayed him and he swore then to never forgive me." "What did you do?" you ask, frowning by your mother's lack of answer. Her dark eyes settle over you, searching your face and then drawing away to settle on something you are uncertain exists. $mama exhales deeply, her fingers smoothing over the chest of letters. When she speaks, her voice is soft and you struggle to hear her words with her back turned to you. "He was always protective of you, $name," she responds. "For a time, you were his and he doted on you. But I... I did something that hurt him deeply and after that, he could no longer bare the sight of me." Your throat tightens and suddenly, you are reminded of the strangeness of Princess Lamahu's interactions and pointed words towards your mother. There had been something unspoken about your birth and now, as you look at your mother, you know that she is still hiding things from you. It is the very thought that has you stumbling away from her, as if to flee the knowledge that whatever she did, it had only served to destroy your family. <<elseif $chp7_6a3 is 3>> "This is too much," you breathe. "I cannot make sense of this now." You struggle to swallow any breath, feeling it lodging in the back of your throat. Your skin prickles with sweat, a cold and twisting feeling curling around your chest, as you struggle to comprehend what you have learnt about your parents. Turning away fro your mother's peering stare, you try to calm your thoughts but silencing them proves to be futile. There are too many unanswered questions to know what to think about Ahlf's actions. He is the only one who might have been able to answer you, but he is gone now and with it, so has your chance to demand the truth of what he has done. The knowledge leaves you rattled, suddenly frantic as your fingers twitch at your sides. "$name," $mama calls, her voice gentle. You turn, looking at her and finding that her dark eyes are filled with concern. She opens her mouth then closes it, as if struggling to find the words that will ease your burden. A bitter laugh forces its way past your throat and erupts from your mouth, the sound harsh even to your own ears. Even now, it would seem that your mother does not know how to explain her actions or your father's to you. "It is a lot," she says, suddenly finding her voice. "I know that. But you must understand that I never wanted to hurt you." "Hurt?" you demand, your eyes narrowing. "Both you and Ahlf have done far more than that." Your mother flinches as if you have struck her physically. She turns away, her fingers curling around each other as she looks at anything but you. You suddenly want to yell at her, to demand that she answer your questions about your past and about her relationship with your father but you know that it will only serve to raise more questions. "Yes," your mother whispers. "I... Ahlf and I thought that we could make things better and we failed, $name. I tried to keep you safe and your father tried his best too. It was never enough and perhaps, it could never be enough." A cry of frustration leaves you, drawing your mother's attention. She frowns, her eyebrows furrowing as she takes in your anguish but whatever you hope for does not come. Instead, your mother swallows, looking down. "Perhaps you should rest, $name," she suggests. "This has been a difficult few weeks for you. We can talk more when you are ready." Her words are a dismissal and you are no fool not to see it. Your fingers clench at your sides and a part of you imagines denying her request, but as the thought fills your mind, so too does the truth of her words. You //are// exhausted and speaking to your mother has only left you confused and wishing nothing more than to be rid of the knowledge you have gleaned. You turn away then, desperate to escape the confines of your mother's presence and the questions that she has raised in your mind. <<elseif $chp7_6a3 is 4>> "I understand why Ahlf kept me away from you," you breathe. "You are not the mother that I deserve." Your voice breaks at the end of your sentence and suddenly, your eyes prickle as you struggle to breathe. You stare at your mother, accusing and wanting nothing more than to hurt her the way she has hurt you in her absence. Her life here in Ishari only reminds you of the mother that you could never have and the father that had only tried to keep you safe from her callousness. The room is quiet, interrupted only by the harsh sound of your breathing and the soft whimper that escapes your mother. She turns away from your stare, her fingers trembling at her sides. You glower at your mother, unable to bring yourself to fault Ahlf for what he chose to do. When $mama left you, Ahlf was all you had and he had made certain that no matter what happened, you would live to see another day. "Your words pain me more than you can know, $name," $mama breathes. "I... I have always loved you. For a long time it was just us, when your father left. You were my precious $heir and it was all that mattered." You scoff. "What changed?" Your mother flinches, curling into herself before she finally meets your gaze. There is a dark look on her face, one that speaks of sorrow and regret but it is difficult to sympathise for the woman who has hurt you from the moment that she abandoned you. "Nothing and everything," she answers. "I was alway going to return to you but your father... he did not think it was safe. If I had known that he was keeping my letters from you-" "He was protecting me from you," you spit. "All you have done is hurt me. You do not see the $gender I have become, instead only seeing the $heir that you left behind. My father protected me. I cannot say the same about you." Your mother's eyes widens and she lets out a broken sound like a wounded animal. Her dark eyes glisten and she reaches out towards you but before her fingers can brush against your wrist, you turn away. There is nothing that can bring you to remain with the woman who has caused you this much suffering. <<elseif $chp7_6a3 is 5>> "Hating you both would be a futile thing," you admit. "It will not ease my hurt nor will it change the past." As your words leave your lips, you feel the hollowness of its meaning rattle in your chest. You imagine that in another life, you could have had a family who who have loved you throughout your childhood but you will never know it. You were born to your parents and hating them now, for what has already happened will only leave you in more turmoil than you could ever endure. You gaze at your mother, taking in the distraught expression on her face though you surmise that it must come from knowing futility of your past than anything you have said to her. A sigh leaves you as weariness settles into your bones, threatening to swallow you into an abyss. You look away from your mother, suddenly desperate to leave her presence. "You speak as if you have given up," your mother murmurs. A grunt leaves you. "I have not given up on anything. It is acceptance, $mama. What you and Ahlf chose to do affected me greatly and I refuse to allow myself to mourn over what could have been different." This life that you have been given is not an easy one, but you can control how you navigate it. You have spent far too long wondering about a future where you are happy with your parents, only to be left disappointed by what you have learnt over the past few months and weeks. Hoping for more from your mother and wishing that your father had done things differently will not eradicate the pain that has haunted you for years. //No.// If you are to expect anything different then you will have to stop hoping that your past could be different. The sorrow you have felt will continue to twist in your gut if you allow it to so now, you will accept the childhood that you had. You will accept your parents' actions for what they were and perhaps, in time, you will find a future where life is not nearly as painful as it used to be. "$name-" "No," you interrupt. "You cannot change my mind, $mama. Not with this." You turn away from her imploring eyes, determined to leave before your resolve can falter in the face of the woman that has caused you so much pain. Striding away from the room, you struggle not to run, afraid that your past is not nearly as ready to free you of its clutches as you are of it. <</if>> [[Next.|chp7_6a_landing]]

Your footsteps are hurried as you push past the priestesses who barely manage to avoid colliding into you. The thoughts of everything you have discovered about your parents tugs at your mind, forcing your legs to stumble as you sag against a nearby wall. Your breaths are sharp, coming out in strangled gasps as you lean against the cool stone of the wall behind you. All these years, your parents had been writing to each other and yet, it is too late to change anything now. You run a hand over your face, frowning when your palm comes away sticky with perspiration. Slowly, you push away the thoughts of what you have learnt, wanting nothing more than to forget them entirely. As you stare at the narrow halls and the pale walls of the temple, you realise that remaining inside only reminds you of what you are trying to forget - //your past//. You push away from the wall behind you, letting your legs carry you farther away from your mother. [[Next.|chp7_7]]

Your eyebrows furrow as you take in Danzor's presence. He is broad in the way soldiers are, but that is where all similarities between a warrior and Danzor end. His skin is brown, like the sand in Ishari and his hair is a deep black, glimmering a deep brown under the sunlight. He is shorter than Ahlf and the ease at which he smiles at $mama leaves you unsettled. Rana leaves Danzor's side, her arms winding around $mama and you cannot help but feel that you are intruding on a moment that you are not meant to see. $mama may be //your// mother, but it is evident that you know nothing about the life she has lived or the person she has become. $mama eventually pulls away from Rana's grasp, her eyes soft and her expression warm. You swallow, aware that you have been watching Rana with envy over her relationship with $mama that you never experienced. $mama looks at you, her dark eyes travelling over your features before she speaks. "$name," she breathes. "Come. Both Danzor and Rana are eager to spend time with you." <<set $chp7_6b to 0>> [[You smile warmly as you greet Rana and Danzor.|chp7_6b1][$chp7_6b +=1, $ranaRel +=5, $danzorRel +=5, $showDanzorRel to true]] [[You greet Rana fondly, though you keep your distance from Danzor.|chp7_6b1][$chp7_6b +=2, $ranaRel +=5, $showDanzorRel to true]] [[You are apprehensive as you nod to both Danzor and Rana, only here to sate your curiosity.|chp7_6b1][$chp7_6b +=3, $showDanzorRel to true]] [[You scowl at Danzor and Rana, furious that your mother has chosen them over you.|chp7_6b1][$chp7_6b +=4, $ranaRel -=5, $danzorRel -=5, $showDanzorRel to true]]

<<if $chp7_6b is 1>> Your lips pull upwards into a wide smile as you step further into the garden. The heat of the sun warms your skin and spills across both father and daughter as they meet your gaze. Rana looks up at you, her expression shy as she peers at you from Danzor's side. They look so similar, their expressions both hopeful and warm and you are struck by differences in your own upbringing with Ahlf. "It is good to finally meet you," Danzor states, his brown eyes warm. "Your mother has spoken much about you that it feels like we have already met." You gaze at Danzor, noting the softness in his expression and the gentle way which he holds Rana's hand. He is sincere in his kindness, you think as he gestures for you to take a seat on one of the stools that sits overlooking the garden. Your mother glances at you, nodding and moves to sit beside Danzor. As you settle against the stool, your eyes stray towards your mother and Danzor. There is a familiarity in the way that they seem to communicate without words. His hand brushes her own and they share a soft look that makes you look away, as though you have seen something that you should not have. "You must have questions," Danzor says, glancing at you. "Ask them and I will do my best to answer them." You nod, smiling. "Thank you." <<elseif $chp7_6b is 2>> As your eyes meet Rana's, you find that she is already staring up at you with a shy expression. A soft smile settles against your lips at her gaze and you watch in amusement as Rana ducks her head down, though not quick enough to mask the grin that tugs at her lips. She is young, too young to know about the strangeness of the situation and you cannot fault her innocence in everything that has happened. But as your mother gestures for you to take a seat on a nearby stool, you find that your smile fades as you glance at Danzor. He is the man that has shared a life and raised a daughter with your mother. You know nothing about the person he is and it leaves you bristling when he smiles at you. Danzor must notice something in your expression because he looks down, his eyebrows furrowing. "$name," $mama calls. "I know that you must have questions for Danzor and Rana and I wish for you to ask them." Danzor nods, glancing at your mother with a gentle smile. She returns it easily, the familiarity in their intimacy leaving you uneasy. You look away, wondering if her relationship with Danzor is one that she ever had with Ahlf. The thought that your father could ever look at anyone the way Danzor looks at your mother is nearly laughable and you have to force away the thoughts before a well of bitter resentment can cloud your thoughts. "I will do my best to answer your questions, $name," Danzor says, his voice soft. "Please, ask anything you want." <<elseif $chp7_6b is 3>> When you chose to meet with Danzor and Rana, you had not known what to expect but there was one thing that had been certain in your mind - you needed answers. Both Danzor and Rana have known your mother for far longer than you have and the knowledge leaves you breathless with the notion that you will never have the same memories as they would of your mother. There is an apprehension in your limbs that keeps you from approaching them openly, yet, you cannot deny the curiosity that pulls you into the garden. Your mother glances at you, her lips pulling into a hopeful smile and you remind yourself of why you agreed to meet Danzor and Rana. The silence is broken by Danzor, who gazes at you warmly. "$name, I know that this must be difficult for you. I- //we// are willing to answer any of your questions." He moves to sit on a nearby chair, your mother following after Danzor. It is strange to see her gaze at him softly and it takes you a moment to realise that this is your mother's other family, the family that you never were part of. Pushing away the thoughts, you move to sit across from them, noticing as Rana moves to sit between them. <<elseif $chp7_6b is 4>> You do not know what stings worse - your anger that your mother deserted you to start a new family or the envy that she will never seem to love you as much as she seems to love them. The scowl pulls at your mouth, refusing to leave as you step further into the garden. It is enough to elicit a sharp breath from Danzor and you are pleased when you notice the pained look on your mother's face. Rana is quiet, her eyes wide as she stares at you and you wonder for a moment if she knows anything about you. Your mother has not spoken much of her new family to you and you cannot help but suspect that she has kept you a secret from others. Perhaps she never imagined that you would be reunited? The thought forces an unsettling twist in your stomach and you turn away, swallowing a painful lump. "I know that this is difficult, $name," $mama murmurs. "Please, come and sit. Let us explain everything." You eye your mother warily. She is like a viper in her softness, you can never know what to expect. Stealing a glance at Danzor, you find a frown along his mouth, as though uncertain what to make of you. You scoff, suddenly wanting to yell at him. After everything that has happened, you deserve answers from your mother and him. <</if>> When it becomes clear that no one is truly willing to interrupt the quiet, you realise that you are free to lead the conversation. You glance at your mother and then, your eyes shifts towards Danzor. They are in love, you think, from the closeness at which they sit and the soft glances they share. Rana shifts between them, as if unaware what it means to be unwanted. <<set $chp7_sal to 0>><<set $chp7_A to false>><<set $chp7_B to false>><<set $chp7_C to false>><<set $chp7_D to false>> [["Did you always plan on marrying each other?" you question, your gaze shifting between your mother and Danzor.|chp7_A][$chp7_sal +=1, $chp7_A to true]] [["Why does no one seem to know about me?" you ask, frowning at your mother.|chp7_B][$chp7_sal +=1, $chp7_B to true]] [["You chose to have Rana together despite there being a war?" you query.|chp7_C][$chp7_sal +=1, $chp7_C to true]] [["What do you expect going forward?" you enquire, your eyes slipping towards Danzor and Rana.|chp7_D][$chp7_sal +=1, $chp7_D to true]]

"Did you always plan on marrying each other?" you question, your gaze shifting between your mother and Danzor. For a moment, they do not reply and you watch as they share a look, as if silently deciding on whether or not to answer you. You wonder if they ever intended on answering your questions or if this was simply a way for your mother to get you to meet her new family without having to force you. To your relief, the quiet is broken by Danzor. He looks at you with a small smile, but from the hollowness in his gaze, you can tell that the memories which he recalls is an unhappy one. "Salyra and I were friends growing up," Danzor explains. "I... we were close as children and closer still as time passed. But when the war came, I joined my brother in helping the war efforts and your mother joined the priestesses of the temple." You furrow your eyebrows in confusion but Danzor continues, his voice hard and his hands clenched at his sides. "The war separated us and I did not think that I would see your mother again," he murmurs. "But she returned years later, a hated woman for loving the wrong person." $mama places her hand on Danzor's arm, drawing his attention towards her. They share a look, one of silent understanding and it is your mother who speaks then. "Danzor was the only one who did not turn me away. He was there for me, $name and in time, our old feelings returned. Danzor had been the one good thing in a time of turmoil." <<set $chp7_A to 0>> [["I am glad that he helped you," you breathe, grateful that Danzor could be there for your mother when others were not.|chp7_A1][$chp7_A +=1, $danzorRel +=5, $salyraRel +=5]] [["You and Danzor were in a relationship before you met Ahlf?" you ask, perplexed.|chp7_A1][$chp7_A +=2]] [["I see," you mutter. "The only person who mattered to you then was Danzor."|chp7_A1][$chp7_A +=3, $danzorRel -=5, $salyraRel -=5]]

"Why does no one seem to know about me?" you ask, frowning at your mother. The thought has been on your mind since you arrived in Ishari. No one has questioned you about your relationship with your mother, yet you cannot deny that it has gone unnoticed. Many of the residents of the temple have stared at you with curiosity, as if uncertain what to make of your mother's first-born child who shares the blood of a former Blood Guard General. "$name," $mama breathes. "You... people did know about you." Your gaze slips over Danzor and Rana. Rana ducks behind Danzor and he turns to you, nodding along with your mother's words. "I knew about you since your birth," Danzor explains. <<if $chp7_A is true>>You remember what he said about his relationship with $mama. If he knew Ahlf then he must have known about you when you had been born.<<else>>You frown in confusion. How could Danzor have known about you since your birth? Danzor must notice your expression, because he continues. "You were born here," he explains. "In Urur, when Ahlf... your father was here. I... I had been a warrior then and your mother was still a priestess."<</if>> You turn towards $mama. "No one else seemed to know that I was your $heir." "It was safer that way," $mama replies. "Those who were around when you were born did not accept my relationship with your father. They... you were a child that they could not accept. When I left the temple with you, many who knew you left too. There are some who remember you, $name. But I did not see it fit to remind them of you for fear of what harm might befall you." <<set $chp7_B to 0>> [["Harm?" you question, frowning in confusion.|chp7_B1][$chp7_B +=1]] [["Who else knew about me?" you ask.|chp7_B1][$chp7_B +=2]] [["It sounds as if you were ashamed of your past - of me," you hiss.|chp7_B1][$chp7_B +=3, $salyraRel -=5]]

"You chose to have Rana together despite there being a war?" you query. After everything that $mama has told you, leaving you with Ahlf in Salt Bay was to protect you from the war and the Blood Guard. Yet, staring at Rana, you cannot help but wonder how true her words were. She chose to have another child, despite the war and instead of abandoning Rana or Danzor, $mama remained with them. "Rana was never planned," $mama breathes. "When Danzor and I chose to remain together, we had not expected to be blessed with a child." Danzor smiles as his gaze slips over Rana. She must realise that the conversation is centred around her because she suddenly grows shy, her skin flushing under the attention of her father's stare. "She was a blessing when everything seemed terrible," Danzor murmurs. "We are grateful to have had Rana." <<set $chp7_C to 0>> [[Staring at Rana, you cannot help but agree that she is a blessing.|chp7_C1][$chp7_C +=1, $ranaRel +=5, $danzorRel +=5, $salyraRel +=5]] [[Your stomach twists as a pang of jealousy stabs through your chest.|chp7_C1][$chp7_C +=2]] [["A blessing?" you scoff. "There is nothing miraculous about bedding each other."|chp7_C1][$chp7_C +=3, $ranaRel -=5, $danzorRel -=5, $salyraRel -=5]]

"What do you expect going forward?" you enquire, your eyes slipping towards Danzor and Rana. The question is one that has been on your thoughts since you discovered your mother's new family. While you have voiced your stance on how you wish to proceed with $mama and her new family, it dawns on you that neither Danzor nor Rana have expressed what they expect from you. You wonder if they imagine you joining their family or perhaps, they wish you to leave them in peace? "We..." Danzor says, before pausing. "I know that Rana would enjoy having an older <<if $heir is "daughter">>sister<<else>>brother<</if>>. It would mean more than you know to have you in our lives, $name, especially for Salyra." Your glance at your mother, your eyebrows furrowing.<<if $chp7_4 is 1>> Had she not explained that you wanted nothing to do with her new family? From the guilty expression on her face, it becomes evident that your mother had hoped that you would have changed your decision after meeting Danzor and Rana.<<elseif $chp7_4 is 2>> She smiles at you, a hopeful gleam in her dark eyes. You let out a breath as you return your gaze to Danzor and Rana. Perhaps spending more time with them will not be as daunting as it first seemed.<<elseif $chp7_4 is 3>> $mama looks at you before her dark eyes move towards Rana. Your half-sister smiles at you, her cheeks dotting with red splotches when your eyes meet. You nod, knowing that spending time would Rana is something that you had hoped for.<<elseif $chp7_4 is 4>> You have met both Danzor and Rana and it would seem that your mother has not alerted them to your reasons for meeting with them. $mama's family is not your family and now that you have learnt what they were willing to share, you will not continue this farce of pretending that you are a part of $mama's new life.<</if>> <<set $chp7_D to 0>> [["I would like to spend more time with Rana," you reply, smiling softly.|chp7_D1][$chp7_D +=1, $ranaRel +=5, $danzorRel +=5, $salyraRel +=5]] [["Perhaps we can speak more but I do not want more than that," you explain.|chp7_D1][$chp7_D +=2]] [["No," you answer. "This is not what I want." You frown at Danzor and Rana. "You are not my family."|chp7_D1][$chp7_D +=3, $ranaRel -=5, $danzorRel -=5, $salyraRel -=5]]

<<if $chp7_A is 1>> "I am glad that he helped you," you breathe, grateful that Danzor could be there for your mother when others were not. A breath leaves your mother and she offers you a gentle smile, one that causes your chest to swell with warmth. Glancing at Danzor, you find a kind look in his eyes as he regards you with something akin to admiration. Not for the first time, you are struck by the differences between Ahlf and Danzor and you wonder if it is Danzor's gentle demeanour that drew your mother's attention to him. "Thank you for understanding, $name," your mother murmurs. "I worried that you might have been upset." You shake your head. "It hurt knowing that you were gone from my life, but I cannot fault you for seeking kindness from someone like Danzor. I... I am happy that you found each other." Danzor smiles at you. "I am happy to have found your mother too. She praises me for helping her but I do not think she knows that she helped me just as much." $mama flushes under Danzor's stare and you look away, finding that you do not want to intrude on their intimacy. Instead, your eyes settle on Rana who watches $mama and Danzor with a wide smile. You cannot help but wonder if this is what it must have been like to grow up with loving parents. <<elseif $chp7_A is 2>> "You and Danzor were in a relationship before you met Ahlf?" you ask, perplexed. The question leaves your mouth as your thoughts swirl within your mind. Your mother's eyes widen, as if not expecting your question and she begins to speak, before pausing, as if uncertain how to answer you. You frown and turn towards Danzor who smiles softly, but it does not meet his eyes. When he speaks, his voice is hollow and sad. "We were close, yes," Danzor replies. "But we were young, $name, and barely knew what our feelings meant. We... we were separated by the war and the hardships that it brought. I travelled to Sangasu with my younger brother and when we returned, your mother and Ahlf- your //father//, were together." Your eyebrows press together as you try to make sense of the timeline of your mother's relationship with your father and with Danzor. Had she left Danzor because of the war or because she had hoped for someone to fill the absence he would have left in her? As if sensing your thoughts, your mother speaks. "Your father and I were happy together, $name. Like Danzor said, we were young when we first fell in love and the war kept us apart longer than we had expected. We drifted apart and... I met your father. Things... the war meant that nothing was the same." "Did Ahlf know?" you ask. $mama looks at her hands, frowning. "He did. I cannot say that he was ever affected by the knowledge of my past with Danzor, but nothing truly bothered your father then." <<elseif $chp7_A is 3>> "I see," you mutter. "The only person who mattered to you then was Danzor." The accusation is heavy in your tone and your eyes narrow as you glare at both $mama and Danzor. $mama meets your eyes and for a moment, you see remorse and pain flicker through her dark gaze before it disappears. Instead, she glances at Danzor, as if seeking assurance from his steady presence besides her. "That is a cruel thing to say to your mother," Danzor replies, clutching $mama's hand in his grasp. A laugh escapes you, the sound strangled as it slips past your lips and leaves your eyes prickling with fury. Who is Danzor to comment on your response to your mother? While he was accepting her into his life, you had been abandoned in Salt Bay with a father who did not know how to show you the affection you desperately craved. "You must be truly in love with $mama if you can look past her own cruelty towards me," you spit. A grin pulls at your mouth. "Are you not afraid that she will abandon you and Rana when she tires of you both?" "$name," your mother gasps, reaching for Rana. Your chest twists painfully as you watch your mother draw Rana into her hold, as if fearing that you will rip her away. Danzor turns to you, his expression suddenly thunderous. You meet his gaze, unwavering in the gaze of a man who seems ignorant of the pain that $mama has caused. "You are angry at your mother," he breathes. "But you do not know the woman she has become. I have accepted her and all that she has done. Whatever you may think, your mother would never abandon us." You turn, meeting your mother's watery stare. "No. I suppose she would not. After all, she has no one else to turn to." <</if>> [[Next.|chp7_6b_landing]]

<<if $chp7_sal lt 4>> As you sit there, gazing at your mother and her new family, your mind struggles to contain the questions that still remain unanswered. <<if $chp7_A is false>>[["Did you always plan on marrying each other?" you question, your gaze shifting between your mother and Danzor.|chp7_A][$chp7_sal +=1, $chp7_A to true]]<<else>>//You have already asked your mother about her relationship with Danzor.//<</if>> <<if $chp7_B is false>>[["Why does no one seem to know about me?" you ask, frowning at your mother.|chp7_B][$chp7_sal +=1, $chp7_B to true]]<<else>>//You have already questioned them about others' knowledge about you.//<</if>> <<if $chp7_C is false>>[["You chose to have Rana together despite there being a war?" you query.|chp7_C][$chp7_sal +=1, $chp7_C to true]]<<else>>//You already asked them about Rana's birth.//<</if>> <<if $chp7_D is false>>[["What do you expect going forward?" you enquire, your eyes slipping towards Danzor and Rana.|chp7_D][$chp7_sal +=1, $chp7_D to true]]<<else>>//You already asked them about their expectations about the future.//<</if>> <<else>> There is little left to ask your mother and her new family, not without delving into the decisions of their past. You let out a breath, your skin suddenly too warm under the glare of the sun that filters atop the garden. For a moment, you allow yourself a reprieve from the weight of the answers you have learnt. But the moment disappears when Rana tugs at Danzor, her words spoken too softly for you to hear. Danzor stands, offering $mama a gentle smile. "I will take Rana back to the house. You will be alright?" $mama nods, her eyes softening. "Of course. I shall see you when I am finished here." Nodding towards you, Danzor leads Rana out of the garden, until it is only you and $mama left. Alone, the silence seems to stretch until you become uncomfortable in its presence. But $mama seems in no hurry to disturb the quiet, her eyes resting on the archway through which Danzor left moments earlier. When she speaks, her voice is soft and her gaze thoughtful. "Things will be different now. I... I know that I was not there for you when you needed me the most, but I am here now. If you need me, $name, you only need to ask and I will come." $mama stands and sighs, staring at the garden for a moment. You study her expression but whatever emotions that she had revealed during your earlier conversation has been smoothed away as though it had never been there. "There are duties that I have to attend to," $mama explains. "If you need me, you only need to ask one of the warriors or priestesses and they will escort you to me." She pauses, her eyes soft. "I am thankful to the deities for bringing you back to me." She departs as quickly as she led you to the garden. You sigh, suddenly plunged into isolation once more as you contemplate all that you have learnt. When the heat becomes too unbearable, you force yourself to amble away from the garden. Regardless of your feelings about today, you know that $mama was right. Things are forever changed now that you have returned to Ishari. <</if>> [[Next.|chp7_7]]

<<if $chp7_B is 1>> "Harm?" you question, frowning in confusion. For years, the only harm you experienced came from those who could not bear your mixed heritage and from the threat of being discovered by the Blood Guard. But as you stare at $mama, wondering about the harm that she tried to protect you from, you cannot help but think that she is speaking about the people in Ishari. Your mother's voice is barely a whisper when she speaks, her eyes downcast. "You were a reminder of your father, $name. Despite how much I tried to make things right, many only saw what they hated and feared." You swallow, your mouth dry and your thoughts rushing through your mind. It is difficult o make sense of your mother's words and yet, as you take in the gentle way at which Danzor cradles her, you know that whatever she feared from those in the temple must have truly frightened her into believing that you were in danger. Danzor glances at you, his expression apologetic. "There are some who only see an enemy, despite your mother's status. They worry that you might cause us more harm than good." <<elseif $chp7_B is 2>> "Who else knew about me?" you ask. You think about the strange looks you received from the older priestesses and the hushed whispers that fell silent when you drew nearer. How many of the residents knew about your existence and chose to ignore you? $mama looks at Danzor before she turns, regarding you with a pained expression. "Some of the priestesses," she answers. "I believe a few of the older warriors knew too. Sargon... he suspected who you were but he feared that bringing it up would only complicate matters." Your mouth twists into a frown. Knowing that there were those who knew yet chose not to speak to you about your mother or her past leaves you rattled. Perhaps they only see you as an outsider who is cursed to carry the mixed heritage of both Ishari and Cyre. You stare at your hands in consternation. No matter where you go, it appears that you will never truly belong. "You must understand that they carry memories of a time before you were old enough to walk," $mama explains. "It is not you that they blame, but my past actions." "You are talking about your relationship with Ahlf," you breathe. $mama looks away, but her silence is enough of an answer. <<elseif $chp7_B is 3>> "It sounds as if you were ashamed of your past - of// me//," you hiss. A bitter resentment fills you until it is hard to breathe. You clench your hands into fists, your teeth biting down until a dull throb begins to pulse at the base of your neck. Was your mother never going to speak of you? The thought leaves you reeling with fury and grief and you find yourself glowering at $mama. "No," $mama breathes. "I could never be ashamed of you, $name." You scoff, "You truly think that I would believe that?" Your mother's eyes grow watery and she lets out a breath, the sound ragged and broken. It seems to draw Danzor's attention and he reaches for her, a gentle grasp that only serves to infuriate you more. How dare she pretend that this is as hard for her as it is is for you? You were the child that she abandoned in Salt Bay. Learning that she has kept you a secret from those around her makes her words sound false and weak. "Your mother is telling you the truth," Danzor murmurs. He turns, scowling at you. "Do you not see how guilty she feels over her choices?" Danzor's words are sharp and accusing. You stare at the man who has accepted your mother, eager to protect her from you ire and find yourself frowning. He must truly be a fool to love a woman like $mama. "She deserves to feel worse things than guilt over the hurt she has caused," you spit. <</if>> [[Next.|chp7_6b_landing]]

<<if $chp7_C is 1>> Your gaze softens as you take in the sight of Rana. She is a gentle child, one that has done nothing wrong. You watch as her smile draws a fondness from your mother and note the way Danzor gazes down at her with a warmth. She has brought $mama and Danzor together and perhaps, she is the reason for their happiness as a family. "You are right," you murmur. "She does seem to be a blessing." $mama glances at you, her eyes widening at your words before a smile pulls at the corners of her lips. "She is." A small smile slips over Rana's mouth and she turns to look up at you, her cheeks flushed red and her expression shy. The sight sends a thrill of warmth through your chest and you find yourself returning the smile, unable to stop yourself. It dawns on you then that Rana and you will forever be tied together by virtue of $mama's blood. Danzor glances at you, his voice soft. "Rana is your sister, $name. She is excited to learn more about you." You stare at Rana but she turns away, her cheeks darkening under your gaze. No matter what you might think about the young girl, you cannot help but think that Danzor's words are tinged with sincerity. <<elseif $chp7_C is 2>> Your chest aches with longing for the childhood that you never had. As you gaze at Rana, you cannot stop the slow spread of jealousy that fills you until breathing becomes painful. You turn away from $mama, knowing that she has spent more time with Rana than she ever will with you. Is it so wrong to envy the relationship that Rana has with your mother? "She is a blessing," you mumble, the words tasting like ash on your tongue. "What does that make me, $mama?" When you turn to meet your mother's eyes, you find that she is staring at you with wide eyes. She lets out a breath, reaching for you then stopping herself. You wonder if she sees her past mistakes when she looks at you or perhaps she is only reminded of Ahlf. "You are my $heir," $mama breathes. "That is what you are. It is what you always be. I... I could never think of you as anything but my $heir." She claims you to be her $heir and yet, she has been far less of a mother to you than she has been towards Rana. You cannot take her words as sincere when there is a hardness lodged between your ribs, pressing until you are certain you will break into a thousand pieces. Your jealousy rivals the pain that spreads through you, a dull throb that worsens the longer you gaze upon Rana and Danzor, knowing that they have experienced a relationship with $mama that you never will. You turn away from your mother's gaze, suddenly weary about everything. <<elseif $chp7_C is 3>> "A blessing?" you scoff. "There is nothing miraculous about bedding each other." There is anger on your tongue and callousness in your tone as the words leave your lips. It draws a gasp from $mama and her eyes widen before she turns away, reaching for Rana as if you have insulted her. You scowl, noticing the hard look that flickers through Danzor's eyes and he gazes at you sharply. "Rana is a blessing," Danzor hisses. His eyebrows furrow and he looks at $mama with fondness. "No matter what you might think about my relationship with Salyra, we have been grateful to have Rana in our lives." You bite back a scoff, your eyes narrowing at your mother and her new family. Rana looks between $mama and Danzor, her lips pulling into a small frown and she ducks between them, as if sensing that the discussion has soured. "You are upset," $mama breathes. "And I cannot fault you for that, but please, $name. Rana is an innocent child. She is your sister." Your eyes find Rana once again but it would be difficult to note you as siblings, even if you shared $mama's blood. Her eyes are unlike yours and her nose reminds you of Danzor, round and small. You wonder then if you look more like Ahlf to $mama and turn your attention to her once again. "It does not matter if she is innocent in this," you reply. "I... you call her a blessing and yet, I never heard you refer to me like that. Do I remind you too much of Ahlf or is it simply because you wished to forget about me?" $mama's lips tremble and she loosens her hold on Rana, her fingers reaching towards you before she clutches then into her palm. A sharp breath leaves you, your throat tightening at the sight. Your mother is silent and she turns away, her eyes shifting to where Rana clings to her side. "I could never forget you, $name," she murmurs. "No matter what you might think." <</if>> [[Next.|chp7_6b_landing]]

<<if $chp7_D is 1>> "I would like to spend more time with Rana," you reply, smiling softly. <<if $chp7_4 is 1>> Your words are soft and the smile you offer Rana seems to elicit surprise from your mother. She stares at you, as if questioning whether you are being sincere and whatever she sees in your face must please her because she smiles widely at you. "Oh, $name," $mama murmurs. "I thought, after all that you have said that you would not want to spend more time with Rana." You glance at Rana and the bitterness you felt earlier returns. It is difficult to hide the frown that tugs at your lips and you look away, suddenly uncertain about how to feel. <<else>>You gaze at Rana, knowing that despite your differences, she is related to you. Gazing at Rana, you find that she is staring at you with a small smile, one that sends warmth through your chest. It is strange to have someone look at you as if you were important, yet Rana continues to gaze at you with a curious look and a widening smile. "Rana will be pleased," Danzor replies. "She... it has not been easy for her to make friends. Having an older <<if $heir is "daughter">>sister<<else>>brother<</if>> will be good for her." His words causes your forehead to crease. As a child, making friends had been a difficult task for you. You were never wanted, always too different and Ahlf had been stubborn in his decision to keep you away from the rest of Salt Bay. But as you look at Rana, it is difficult to know what would mark her different from the other children. Then, you glance at $mama. Perhaps it is not what makes you different but what binds you together.<</if>> <<elseif $chp7_D is 2>> "Perhaps we can speak more but I do not want more than that," you explain. Your hesitation does not go unnoticed and you catch a flicker of a frown on Rana's lips. She glances away when you meet her gaze and presses closer to $mama. You know nothing about having a younger sister or how to be around younger children. Your life in Salt Bay had been a lonely one, with only Ahlf and the long days at sea as your companions. "I... of course," $mama breathes. She squeezes Rana's shoulders. "It is a start." Danzor glances at you, his expression unreadable as his eyes shift over your expression. He seems to be assessing your words, as if trying to determine whether you are being sincere. His hand drops to Rana, smoothing her hair and you realise with a startle that he is trying to protect her from you. "Rana is still young," he breathes. "She will not understand if you suddenly pull away from her." You look at your hands, swallowing. They care deeply for Rana, you think and you note the way $mama gazes at the young girl. You cannot recall a time when $mama ever gave you this much consideration before and the thought forces your chest to constrict. "I understand," you murmur. <<elseif $chp7_D is 3>> "No," you answer. "This is not what I want." You frown at Danzor and Rana. "You are not my family." <<if $chp7_4 is 1>> $mama purses her lips, looking away from you. You scowl, suddenly wanting to scream at her. From the hurt look on Rana's face and the apprehension in Danzor's stare, you know that your mother has kept your decision from them. Will she continue to ignore your choices in favour of pretending that nothing is wrong? "$name... please," $mama breathes. You begin to speak, but it is Danzor who interrupts. His voice is hard and the look in his eyes causes your voice to waver. "You will not be forced to spend time with either of us," Danzor states. "That was never what any of us wanted. But if that is your choice then you must understand if we too keep our distance from you, $name." <<else>> Your words seem to startle your mother and she furrows her eyebrows, confusion in her gaze. But as you look at Rana and then, at Danzor, you know that your words are true. Being around $mama's new family is difficult and the longer you stare at Rana, the more you are reminded of the childhood you never had. "$name... I thought..." $mama breathes, frowning when she seems unable to voice her thoughts. Danzor glances at your mother, his eyes filling with concern. He reaches out, grasping $mama's shoulder and squeezes. A hard lump presses into your chest as you turn away from their intimacy. It leaves you rattled and confused about the woman that you once knew only in your memories. "We will not ask you to be a part of our family if that is not what you want," Danzor explains, glancing at you. "I had hoped that perhaps things would have been different, for Salyra's sake. But it matters not. I hope you understand when we keep our distance, $name. Rana is too young to understand and I am afraid it would be too painful to explain to her your reasons."<</if>> <</if>> [[Next.|chp7_6b_landing]]

The heat is nearly oppressive as you step away from the main chamber of the temple. You swipe away a bead of sweat that threatens to roll down your neck and glance around. In the time that you have spent in the temple, you have quickly learnt of the routine of the priestesses and the warriors. At dawn, the priestesses gather to pray to Ehulla and by midmorning, the temple courtyard is bustling with children and their lessons. Most of those who were freed from the Blood Guard prison have already left the temple's walls, returning to their homes and some choosing to leave Urur in favour of safer cities in Sangasu, leaving the temple empty during the days. You pause, breathing in the scent of smoke and herbs. It lingers in the air, reminding you of a time when you were still a child and $mama had held you closely to her chest. The memories prick at your thoughts and you bury them. As you look around the empty hallways, you realise that you have a moment to yourself to do as you please. <<set $chp7_7 to 0>><<set $chp7_7A to false>><<set $chp7_7B to false>><<set $chp7_7C to false>> [[You decide to write to Zikar and the rest of your family in Vinia.|chp7_7A][$chp7_7 +=1, $chp7_7A to true]] [[You visit the prayer chamber in the centre of the temple.|chp7_7B][$chp7_7 +=1, $chp7_7B to true]] [[You decide to find a quiet spot, wanting to be alone for the moment.|chp7_7C][$chp7_7 +=1, $chp7_7C to true]]

A small breath leaves you as you think about the family you left behind in Vinia. You remember their pain from $mama's absence and your chest constricts at the thought that they are still unaware of her life her in Ishari. It is that knowledge that leads you to the small chamber that serves as your room in the temple. You take a seat on the cot, grateful for the parchment and ink that you were granted when you requested it earlier. As you stare the page, thick and rough under your fingers, you find yourself hesitating. How much do you wish to tell your family about what has happened and will it only serve to worry them further? There is already much happening in Vinia, with the arrival of Virion and the Blood Guard and you fear what your family might do if you revealed $mama's life in Ishari. You frown, deciding to... <<set $V_fam_know to false>><<set $chp7_7A to 0>> [[...tell them about your mother's life in Ishari. They deserve to know the truth.|chp7_7A1][$V_fam_know to true, $chp7_7A +=1]] [[...keep your mother's life in Ishari from your family. You do not wish to hurt them.|chp7_7A1][$chp7_7A +=2]] [[...keep your mother's existence from your family in Vinia. This is your mother's burden to bear for abadoning you and your family.|chp7_7A1][$chp7_7A +=3]]

Most of the temple is still closed off to those who are not priestesses, but you learnt that there is a prayer chamber in the heart of the temple's main floor. In the week after the Ishari people were freed from the Blood Guard prison, you watched as many visited the chamber, praying in thanks for the aid of Ehulla. Your steps carry you to the chamber, the steady presence of worshippers now thinned to a hollow emptiness. As you step into the chamber, you are reminded of the temple that you and Prince Irus sought refuge in all those months ago. But where the temple in Cyre had been abandoned, the chamber here is well-cared for. The walls stretch endless towards the ceiling and you strain your neck trying to glimpse the glass windows that allow for the sunlight to filter through. Before you, you find a raised stone dais and upon it sits a large stone carving of Ehulla. She has been depicted with a soft expression, surrounded by gilded rings of gold. <<set $chp7_7B to 0>> [[You kneel down, praying for guidance.|chp7_7B1][$chp7_7B +=1]] [[You remain standing, instead enjoying the calming sensation of being in the chamber.|chp7_7B1][$chp7_7B +=2]] [[You choose to pray to Solus instead, seeking his guidance.|chp7_7B1][$chp7_7B +=3]]

In the heat of the morning, you find yourself seeking refuge from the glare of the sun within the confines of the temple. Your chamber is stifling and without a window, you are forced to traverse the narrow passages of the temple until you emerge into a cylindrical room. It is no larger than your room and from the faint carvings on the walls, which have worn away with time, you muse that it must have once been used for rituals. The walls are interspersed with arched windows, allowing for the light of the day to seep against the stone, bathing it a bright gold. You step into the chamber, surprised to find a cool breeze against your face and when you step towards the window, you notice the temple courtyard below. The sunlight reflects off the tiles, painting them in an array of brilliant colors, while the trees lining the perimeter seem to dance against the gentle wind. You exhale deeply, the weight of your thoughts leaving you through a sharp breath. It has been a difficult few weeks. After learning about your mother's actions with Princess Lamahu, you cannot deny that she is still hiding something from you. <<set $chp7_7C to 0>> [[You believe your mother is keeping secrets to protect you.|chp7_7C1][$chp7_7C +=1]] [[You are uncertain what your mother is keeping from you and it fills you with worry.|chp7_7C1][$chp7_7C +=2]] [[Fury fills you at the thought that your mother has not been honest with you.|chp7_7C1][$chp7_7C +=3]]

<<if $chp7_7A is 1>> You think about the pain of your mother's absence during your childhood and the way it affected your life in Salt Bay. Your uncle and grandmother deserve to know the truth about your mother. Like you, they have suffered in ignorance of your mother's life here in Ishari and you know that by keeping it a secret from them, it will only worsen their pain. With your mind set, you decide to tell your family about $mama and her life in Ishari. <<elseif $chp7_7A is 2>> Discovering $mama in Ishari had left you reeling. She had been alive for years and you had not known. You know that your family in Vinia are uncertain about $mama's life after they separated and you think about the turmoil that learning about her existence will cause them. Shaking your head, you realise that telling your family about $mama will only sting at their already wounded hearts. You sigh, resolved to keeping $mama's existence from them. <<elseif $chp7_7A is 3>> Your mother chose to remain behind when the rest of your family left for Vinia. You remember your uncle's hurt, the pain of losing $mama all those years ago and you frown. She chose to give up her family for ideals that you are uncertain you understand. You scowl, not wanting to lessen your mother's burdens by explaining her actions to your family. If she wants their forgiveness then she should ask for it herself. You huff, determined to keep your mother's life from your family. <</if>> With your decision made, you take to writing your letter to your family. The words come easily enough for there is much that you have to report about. You take careful note not to mention too much about Prince Irus or the alliance, for fear that the letter might be intercepted by the Blood Guard or those who would turn the letter to Virion in lieu of being spared. For the most part, your letter is... <<set $chp7_7A1 to 0>> [[...warm and affectionate. You miss your family.|chp7_7A2][$chp7_7A1 +=1]] [[...neutral and matter of fact. You tell them what has happened but keep your emotions out of it.|chp7_7A2][$chp7_7A1 +=2]] [[...short and simple. You are only writing to them to put their minds at ease and nothing more.|chp7_7A2][$chp7_7A1 +=3]]

<<if $chp7_7A1 is 1>> //Afih, 544. Dearest Family. It has been a difficult journey but I write to you as the sun warms my face. My arrival in Ishari reminds me of the life that I did not experience and I am filled with sorrow to know that Ama and Uncle Belahm were forced to leave behind their home here. Things have gone well for us here and I am pleased to say that there has been a renewed determination in the faces around me. The war has been harsh to the people of Ishari, but like you, they are strong and fight back against the oppression that is forced upon them. I often think about everyone in Vinia and I wonder if Aunty Yara has welcomed a new child yet? Please write to me in return. I am living in the Temple of Ehulla for now, with those who have joined the war efforts against the Blood Guard.<<if $V_fam_know is true>> There is something else that I have wanted to tell you. $mama is alive. I found her in Ishari, a prisoner and once freed, I discovered that she has been in Ishari for many years. She is the High Priestess now and has started a family here. You deserve to know the truth so that you no longer mourn her absence.<</if>> Your loving $heir, $name.// <<elseif $chp7_7A1 is 2>> //Afih, 544. Dear All. I write to you to inform you that I am safe and well. The journey to Ishari was a long one and proved to be difficult, but we perservered and found ourselves in Ishari sooner than planned. The war has ravaged the lands, but the people are resilient and fight back when they can. Most have endured many hardships at the hands of the Blood Guard but they continue to fight back against the war. I wish you not to worry about me, for I have found a place to reside and my companions are never too far away. Keep safe in Aspal, for I know the situation is tense. In time, the threat will be eradicated and I am certain that life will return to peacefulness once more.<<if $V_fam_know is true>> I must inform you of what I discovered whilst in Ishari. $mama is alive and she is now High Priestess. She has resided here for years and has a family that live with her. I only wish to tell you so that your minds are put at ease.<</if>> I will write to you soon and I hope that all goes well in Aspal. Yours, $name.// <<elseif $chp7_7A1 is 3>> //Afih, 544. To my family. I write to you in the heat of Urur. My journey to Ishari was a difficult one but it is nothing that I could not endure. I have met many of those who fight in the war and have seen many hardships. But the people here are strong and continue in their fight against the Blood Guard. When we parted, I knew that you feared for my safety but I assure you that I am well. I am safe now and away from the turmoil that has fallen over the lands. <<if $V_fam_know is true>>You must know that I discoverered $mama in Ishari. She is alive and has begun a family of her own here. I know that you have often thought about what might have happened to her and now, you no longer have to burden yourself with those thoughts.<</if>> I will return when my duties are complete. -$name.// <</if>> You pause, going over the words that you have written and nod with what you have explained. Your family will undoubtedly be relieved to receive word from you and you hope that it will stem their worries of what you have experienced in Ishari. You fold the letter carefully, suddenly struck by the thought that once, this had been something your parents would do. It is a stubborn thought that burrows deep into your mind, refusing to leave even after you deposit the letter with Lord Redall's guards who will soon be returning to Vinia. As you turn away, your mind lingering on your family, you find that you... <<set $chp7_7A2 to 0>> [[...are looking forward to hearing back from them and learning about Aunt Yara's pregnancy.|chp7_7A3][$chp7_7A2 +=1]] [[...long to return to them, aching for a family that has welcomed you despite everything.|chp7_7A3][$chp7_7A2 +=2]] [[...are determined to do what you must to keep your family safe from the threat of the Blood Guard.|chp7_7A3][$chp7_7A2 +=3]] [[...do not mind being away from them for you have always been accustomed to your isolation.|chp7_7A3][$chp7_7A2 +=4]] [[...are relieved to be away from your family. Despite their acceptance of you, you are still unused to their affection.|chp7_7A3][$chp7_7A2 +=5]]

<<if $chp7_7A2 is 1>> A small smile pulls at your lips as you remember your family's warm embrace and gentle words. You wonder if Zikar has become an older brother and you wonder if like you, he has been faced with the difficult task of navigating a role that neither of you were truly prepared for. Your family have been far kinder than you deserved and yet, they accepted you regardless of what has happened between your parents. You think about their last words to you and know that you are fortunate to have spent as much time with them as you did before you were forced to leave. You hope that your letter reaches them safely, knowing that Hadi has fallen to Virion and the Blood Guard. While Queen Elora has assured you that Aspal remains protected, you cannot stop the worry that twists in your stomach at the thought of something happening to your family in your absence. <<elseif $chp7_7A2 is 2>> When you first arrived in Vinia, you never expected to be reunited with a family that you did not know existed and yet, after knowing them for the brief time that you have, you find that you ache to return to them. Your grandmother's gentle warmth and your uncle and aunt's kindness has only emphasised what you had been missing for years. You long to hear Zikar's laugh and taste your grandmother's food. A throbbing ache between your ribs forms and expands until you can barely breathe. Despite finding your mother here in Ishari, it is not nearly as comforting as the warmth of your family in Vinia. Suddenly, the task ahead of you seems nearly impossible. You wish to return to your family, weary of what you have set out to do in their absence. Despite knowing that they are safe in Aspal, you find it difficult to remain apart from them, without feeling the familiar tug of sorrow that seeps into your chest. <<elseif $chp7_7A2 is 3>> When you left your family in Vinia, you knew that doing so would place you in the path of harm, but as you think about what lies ahead of you, you know that you have made the right decision. The war that threatens Ishari is a war that threatens the rest of the kingdoms, including Vinia. You think about your family and the danger they would face if Virion succeeds in his war against Prince Irus. Leaving them behind means that you will be able to better protect them from the dangers of the Blood Guard and the war that you know will be long and arduous. You let out a breath, determined to keep your family safe against the looming war and the threat that the rest of the realms must face once Virion discovers of the alliance with Ishari. You nod to yourself, knowing that you have made the right decision to leave your family. They are protected in Vinia and you know that your letter will soothe their worries about your task, even if you are placing yourself in danger to keep them safe. <<elseif $chp7_7A2 is 4>> Writing to your family in Vinia is a strange task, one that leaves you questioning if your upbringing has eternally changed the way you will feel around others. It is difficult to bring yourself to miss your grandmother or Zikar in their absence, for most of your life was spent alone with Ahlf. You find it easier to be alone for there is a familiarity in your isolation. Ahlf only spoke to you when necessary and your tasks in the cottage were always unsupervised. You wonder if you will overcome the ease at which you adapt to being away from those who care about you, but as you stare at the temple courtyard and take in the sounds of those around you, you are uncertain that it ever will. You are unbothered by the quiet, relishing the way your mind is at ease when you are alone. There is a comfort in knowing that no one is depending on you and that there is little opportunity to disappoint anyone in your failure, especially those who have accepted you so easily like your family in Vinia. <<elseif $chp7_7A2 is 5>> A deep sigh escapes your mouth and you stop, taking in the faces around you. In the quiet, you are reminded of the relief that has fills you from being away from your family in Vinia. Their affection had been overwhelming and as you stand in the courtyard, you are grateful for the reprieve, for the uncertainty of how to respond has left you questioning your upbringing. Perhaps all those years of remaining with Ahlf in Salt Bay has stunted your ability to accept warmth and affection. It was difficult to elicit more than a few words from your father at times and having a family that you have only known for a few weeks has left you confused on how to respond to their warmth. Sending them a letter will ease their worries about what has happened to you, but you cannot deny that being apart from them has been a respite you are loathe to give up. Your family are good people, but you are not like them and you do not know if you will ever be. <</if>> [[Next.|chp7_7_landing]]

<<if $chp7_7 lt 2>>Your eyes strain against the glare of the sun and you bring your hand to shade your face. It is still early in the day and the temple remains mostly quiet. As you take in the sweet scents of the blooming flowers and the sound of quiet chatter, you realise that there is still time left to do something else. <<if $chp7_7A is false>>[[You decide to write to Zikar and the rest of your family in Vinia.|chp7_7A][$chp7_7 +=1, $chp7_7A to true]]<<elseif $chp7_7A is true>>//You have already written a letter to your family.//<</if>> <<if $chp7_7B is false>>[[You visit the prayer chamber in the centre of the temple.|chp7_7B][$chp7_7 +=1, $chp7_7B to true]]<<elseif $chp7_7B is true>>//You have already visited the prayer chamber.//<</if>> <<if $chp7_7C is false>>[[You decide to find a quiet spot, wanting to be alone for the moment.|chp7_7C][$chp7_7 +=1, $chp7_7C to true]]<<elseif $chp7_7C is true>>You have already had a moment to yourself.//<</if>> <<else>> The sun has shifted and you realise that the morning has grown late. As your eyes take in the courtyard, you find that worshippers from the rest of the city have slowly made their way to the temple with offerings for Ehulla. You move aside, knowing that there is nothing more you can do without getting in the way of the worshippers. With that thought, you decide to leave the main courtyard and those who are gathered there. [[Next.|chp7_8]]<</if>>

<<if $chp7_7B is 1>> The stone floor is cool beneath your legs as you kneel before the statue of Ehulla. It is quiet in the chamber, the sounds of the outside disappearing as though you are the only one in the temple. Your eyes take in Ehulla's appearance, her face awash with kindess as she stares down at you. Flowers and herbs line the base of the statue, emitting a sweet fragrance. As you exhale, your mind drifts to what you have already experienced on your journey to Ishari. You have had to contend with the Blood Guard and the deaths caused by Virion. You stare up at Ehulla, knowing that<<if $spiritual_ancient gt 50>> she will continue to guide and protect you in your journey ahead.<<else>> no matter what you believe, you know that Ehulla is seen as a symbol of protection to those in Ishari and you can only hope that it a sign of good things to come.<</if>> You pray for many things as you kneel in the chamber. Your heart constricts at the thought of those who were slain in your journey and those like the Ishari people who were imprisoned by the Blood Guard. Squeezing your eyes closed, you pray for guidance in the challenges you know that you will face in the coming weeks and months. A breeze rustles against your clothes and with it, you feel the weight against your shoulders lesson. A deep breath leaves you and when you reopen your eyes, you find that the tension that clung to your skin is now absent. You stare at Ehulla, grateful to have this moment alone with her. <<elseif $chp7_7B is 2>> There is a peacefulness about the prayer chamber that you have not found anywhere else in the temple. It is quiet and the air is cool against your skin. As your eyes take in the beauty of Ehulla, you are surprised by the intricate details that have been carved into the white stone. The details of her face are fine, as though whoever had carved the stone had done so with reverence. You run your finger over the base of the statue, noting the faint glimmer of gold where it must have once been covered. Beneath the visage of Ehulla, you find an assortment of flowers and herbs - offerings from the priestesses. <<if $spiritual_ancient gt 50>>Your belief in the Ancient Ones is strong and though you have chosen not to pray, you cannot deny that there is a calming sensation of being within the prayer chamber. The tension from your shoulders ease and it becomes easier to breathe. You smile at the face of the Goddess, grateful for a moment of respite from your thoughts.<<else>>While your beliefs on the Ancient Ones is not the same as those who are devout, you cannot deny that being in the cool chamber has left you feeling lighter than when you first entered. You swallow a deep breath, pleased when you no longer feel the tightness in your chest. Regardless of whether or not Ehulla is able to bless those who worship her, you know that you are grateful for the moment of respite.<</if>> <<elseif $chp7_7B is 3>> In Cyre, any idols of the Ancient Ones had been destroyed or damaged. Yet, you have not seen the same attitude towards the worship of Solus in Ishari. There are some who even wear sun dics openly in the city of Urur and you are once again, taken by surprise by the differences in the different kingdoms. As you take in the visage of Ehulla, your mind returns to Solus and his constant presence in Cyre. For many, he was the only deity that had been worshipped. You had seen symbols of Solus in Salt Bay and even witnessed religious celebrations in his honour. Ahlf had been disiniterested in the worship of Solus, <<if $spiritual_solus gt 50>>though you did not share in his indifference.<<else>>and perhaps his views influenced your thoughts about the deity.<</if>> You settle into the hush of the chamber, your breathing slow as your thoughts shift into prayers of worship to Solus. There has been much that you have experienced in the time since you left Salt Bay, from deaths to the cruelty of the Blood Guard. You long for peace, for a moment where your rest is not interrupted by more danger and you can only pray that Solus hears your pleas. When your eyes reopen, you find Ehulla staring down at you but your eyes take in the golden rings that surround her form. They remind you of Solus' golden disc, nearly identical in the way that they appear and you take comfort in knowing that no matter where you are, Solus must have heard your prayers. <</if>> [[Next.|chp7_7B2]]

You turn away from the prayer chamber, no longer as weary as you had felt moments earlier and make your way back towards the hallway. A priestess nearly collides with you and she steps back, her eyes wide and her expression, apologetic. "Forgive me," she breathes. "I did not think anyone would be in the chamber at this hour." "There is nothing to apologise for," you reply. She looks younger than most of the other priestesses and her robes appear to be new. "Thank you," she answers, smiling wider. "Ehulla blesses all who come to her in their time of need." She waves before darting into the chamber that you left a moment earlier. You think about the priestess's words and the peace that you found in the prayer chamber. As your legs carry you away from the chamber, you find that... <<set $chp7_7B2 to 0>> [[...your belief in the Ancient Ones has grown.|chp7_7B3][$spiritual_ancient +=10, $chp7_7B2 +=1]] [[...you do not believe in the Ancient Ones as the priestess does.|chp7_7B3][$spiritual_ancient to Math.clamp($spiritual_ancient -100, 0, 100), $chp7_7B2 +=2]] [[...you believe in Solus and not the Ancient Ones.|chp7_7B3][$spiritual_ancient to Math.clamp($spiritual_ancient -100, 0, 100), $spiritual_solus +=10, $chp7_7B2 +=3]] [[...you believe in the Ancient Ones, but your belief also extends to the worship of Solus.|chp7_7B3][$spiritual_solus +=10, $spiritual_ancient +=10, $chp7_7B2 +=4]] [[...you do not worship any deity and you never will.|chp7_7B3][$spiritual_ancient to Math.clamp($spiritual_ancient -100, 0, 100), $spiritual_solus to Math.clamp($spiritual_solus -100, 0, 100), $chp7_7B2 +=4]]

<<if $chp7_7B2 is 1>> When you left Cyre, you found that many still worshipped the Ancient Ones. You have seen many temples since leaving Salt Bay, and those in Urur have proven to be magnificent and tall, eliciting a surge of longing from you. You spent your childhood being told that the Ancient Ones were corrupt and wrong, yet as you take in the beauty and awe around you, you find that the notion is a laughable one. Perhaps being exposed to the prayers and the rituals of the priestesses has only served to embolden your belief, for as you take in the sights around you, you know that the Ancient Ones exist and that they have been blessing their worshippers for aeons. You smile, knowing that you are no longer alone, no matter what may come. The Ancient Ones have been guiding you and perhaps, moulding the path that you have taken. Whatever may come, you are comforted by the thought that they are watching over you. <<elseif $chp7_7B2 is 2>> You frown as you think about what you have witnessed in your time in Ishari. It is evident that many still worship and pray to the Ancient Ones. But seeing the atrocities of the war and the turmoil caused by the Blood Guard, it is difficult to believe in the existence of the Ancient Ones. If they are as powerful as their worshippers have claimed them to be, how is it that they have remained content to watch so many get slaughtered simply for their heritage? You think about the turmoil caused, from your mother's influence on Princess Lamahu and the actions of King Erlan in retaliation. It is difficult to make sense of those who seem to believe in the Ancient Ones, when there are many unanswered prayers and pain caused daily. You shake your head, pushing away the thoughts of the Ancient Ones and their failure to protect those who worship them. <<elseif $chp7_7B2 is 3>> From what you know about worship, you have learnt it through your years in Salt Bay, watching the worship of Solus. Solus is a kind deity, one who has served the people of Cyre even through turmoil. You think about your early years of watching the festivities, celebrating Solus and a small smile tugs at your lips. Your belief in Solus has grown in the time since you left Salt Bay, though you do not share the same thoughts about the Ancient Ones. While many in Ishari and even Vinia seem to seek comfort in the worship of the deities that your mother praises, you do not feel the same. It is Solus that you draw your strength from and Solus who you pray to for guidance. You cannot bring yourself to believe in the Ancient Ones, even surrounded by the temples dedicated to them. As you think about your decision, you know that you have chosen well. <<elseif $chp7_7B2 is 4>> You have been to Vinia, where worship of many deities is common amongst its people and here, in Ishari, many worship the Ancient Ones but you have seen a few who worship others, like Solus. It is difficult to separate your past and knowledge of Solus from the knowledge you have of the Ancient Ones. In your time away from Cyre, it became easy to worship the Ancient Ones without the fear of being punished. Yet, turning away from Solus entirely does not feel right. You have come to believe in both the Ancient Ones and Solus, knowing that if they are meant to guide those who worship them then they cannot be selfish enough to restrict your worship to only them. Your belief has moulded the person you have become and denying one part of your existence in favour of the other leaves you feeling unsettled. As you take in the magnificence of the temple and the worship around you, you know that you cannot be faulted for believing in both Solus and the Ancient Ones. <<elseif $chp7_7B2 is 5>> When you left Salt Bay, you discovered that worship differed from region to region and with it, you found yourself growing more distant to the idea of Solus and the Ancient Ones. It is difficult to make sense of their existence when you have witnessed so much death and suffering. If the deities existed, why have stopped the bloodshed? You frown as you look around the temple, knowing that many have found comfort in their worship, but you do not share in their need to pray to the deities. There are many things that you have endured on your journey and you have overcome them through your strength and not from the deities. You know that regardless of what you might face, you will do it with your skills and not from your belief in the Ancient Ones or Solus. There is a freedom in not believing in the deities, you muse, for you are not restricted by the rituals or customs that many worshippers follow. Nodding to yourself, you know that your lack of belief will not hamper you in your task ahead. <</if>> [[Next.|chp7_7_landing]]

<<if $chp7_7C is 1>> Your mother's actions with Princess Lamahu seems to have stemmed from a need to protect Ishari from the outcome of her vision. If $mama is keeping things from you, you believe that it is to protect you from harm. Perhaps it is a difficult thing that will only complicate what you already know about the past, or perhaps $mama is simply trying to protect your already overwrought emotions. Whatever $mama is keeping from you, you trust that is to keep you safe from the knowledge and what it will mean for you. <<elseif $chp7_7C is 2>> You remember the silent stares your mother traded with Princess Lamahu and their hushed tones, as if arguing with each other. Princess Lamahu seemed to have known you before your arrival - for she has known you from the day you were born and the notion leaves an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach. You do not know what $mama is hiding from you, but you do know that whatever it might be, it will only bring you more turmoil. <<elseif $chp7_7C is 3>> Your fingers curl into your palm and you let out a ragged breath. Anger courses through you, heating your blood until it is difficult to think of anything other than $mama and what she is still keeping from you. Your trip to Sangasu has only proven that $mama has not been truthful with you. You recall her heated conversations with Princess Lamahu and the odd way in which the ruler had stared at you. //No.// There is something that your mother is not telling you and the knowledge of what it might be only burns hotter, filling you with rage. <</if>> It would seem that no matter your age, your life has been affected greatly by the decisions of others. Your father kept your mother's letters from you and your mother refuses to speak about what she knows. Knowing that there is much that you are unaware of leaves you... <<set $chp7_7C1 to 0>> [[...filled with trepidation as you fear that what you do not know will only hurt you.|chp7_7C2][$chp7_7C1 +=1]] [[...frustrated for it seems that you are not in control of your life.|chp7_7C2][$chp7_7C1 +=2]] [[...accepting of what may come as you cannot change your fate.|chp7_7C2][$chp7_7C1 +=3]] [[...indifferent as there is nothing you can do to change what your parents have already done.|chp7_7C2][$chp7_7C1 +=4]]

<<if $chp7_7C1 is 1>> Learning about your mother's existence in Ishari and then, later discovering her new family had left you reeling. There is much that you discovered on your journey with Prince Irus and you realise now that you have only begun to understand how much you do not know about your family or their past. You fear what you will face in the upcoming weeks and months, knowing that the secrets that have been hidden from you will only serve to hurt you in the process of uncovering them. There has been much learnt over the course of these past few months but none of it makes a difference when it comes to confronting the pain of knowing your parents have hidden so much. <<elseif $chp7_7C1 is 2>> Your frustration has only grown since you began learning more about your parents and the secrets they have kept from you. Learning about your family in Vinia and them your mother's life and her letters to Ahlf has left you reeling with doubt. If you had known everything before you set out on your journey, would you have made the same decisions? The knowledge that your past has been purposefully kept away from you leaves you wondering if your life was ever yours to control. Your past is now an unknown to you and it weighs heavier than any stone on your shoulders. No matter how much you try to push down the rage and hurt, you never seem able to get rid of it. <<elseif $chp7_7C1 is 3>> In the time that you discovered the truth of your family's existence in Vinia and learnt about your parents and their lives, you have come to understand that fate has played a stronger role in your life than you thought it would. The journey you embarked on with Prince Irus has only pulled you into the darkness of your past, drawing out things that had once been buried. You know that there is little to be done about your past or the decisions of your parents. Nothing will change the outcome of your decisions, not when they were so deeply embedded inside you that they seemed immutable until you finally came to the realisation that what was happening was always meant to happen. <<elseif $chp7_7C1 is 4>> Your parents decided a long time ago that their actions to protect you would mean keep a part of your past hidden from you. There are many things that they could have done differently but dwelling on what could have changed is a futile thing. In the span of your journey, you have come to understand that their actions have made you the $gender you are. The secrets you know that you will learn over the course of time will impact you greatly, but you are prepared for them. Your past has been shaped by the actions and decisions you make in this life. You cannot change what you have experienced, only what you are ready to confront. If you were not prepared, then everything would be lost. <</if>> A sigh leaves your lips and you let your eyes slip towards the courtyard below once more. Though it is had been a difficult thing to learn about who your parents were to each other and what they have kept from you, you are grateful to have had a moment to enjoy the past weeks with your companions. They have come to be a steady part of your life, regardless of your nature of your relationship with them. It is an odd thought that you are no longer alone, turned away as if you were a beast. <<set $chp7_7C2 to 0>> [[You are grateful to have so many people around you that you can trust.|chp7_7C3][$chp7_7C2 +=1]] [[It is still surreal to have companions around you.|chp7_7C3][$chp7_7C2 +=2]] [[At times, you wish that you were still alone, unused to having companions.|chp7_7C3][$chp7_7C2 +=3]]

<<if $chp7_7C2 is 1>> For years you have been alone, knowing that you were an outsider and unwanted by those in Salt Bay. The journey you have taken has revealed to you the ache in your chest had been longing for companionship. As a child, you watched many of the other children playing together. Ahlf was certain that it was dangerous to join them and in time, you learnt that he was right. A warmth, joyful and light, unfurls in your chest and blossoms until your lips pull into a wide smile. You are grateful that you are no longer alone and suddenly, it is easy to believe that you belong. <<elseif $chp7_7C2 is 2>> Your thoughts sometimes unspool themselves as you struggle to understand that you are not alone. For most of your life, you had been spurned for your heritage, left with only Ahlf for companionship. It had been a difficult life and when you set out on your journey, you never imagined that you would have found companions who would become pillars in your life. For a time, you truly believed that you would be alone and knowing that you are not sends a tremor of disbelief through you. It is difficult not to question if your companions will eventually leave you, for you have known loss and absence as easily as you have known the smell of the sea. But as you think about the life you have endured, you know that no matter what may come, you are grateful for those around you. <<elseif $chp7_7C2 is 3>> Your life feels like it belongs to a stranger for the knowledge that you have companions is an odd concept. The years of solitude in Salt Bay has left you struggling to understand that you are no longer alone and a part of you longs to return to the quiet days where you had been alone with your thoughts. A frown pulls at your mouth and you cannot help but wonder if it is how Ahlf felt when he chose to live in the cottage, away from the rest of the residents of Salt Bay. Perhaps you are more Ahlf's $heir than you once thought, suddenly longing to return to the days of quiet where you did not need to answer to anyone. <</if>> The thoughts of what your life has become slowly eases from your mind as the sun's heat finally breaks through the small chamber. You feel it in the sweat against the back of your neck and the way your skin grows sticky as though you have bathed in honey. As you turn away, you are suddenly aware that the moment to yourself has helped calm your thoughts and for that, you are thankful. [[Next.|chp7_7_landing]]

Your feet carry you away from the courtyard and deeper into the temple. Priestesses stroll through the hallways while others pause to help the worshippers who have arrived from the rest of Urur. But your eyes are quickly drawn away from the worshippers when you notice the familiar strides of Anu. She walks quickly, not noticing you as she makes her way through the temple. At her side, you note the familiar hilt of the blade she wielded when you freed those in the prison. You remember how the blade had glowed, as though it had been made out of fire and not metal.<<if $chp5_45 is 1>> At the time, you had been certain that there was an explanation for the the blade's strange glow and you cannot deny that you are curious to learn more about its origins.<<elseif $chp5_45 is 2>> You were uncertain if it had been the madness of facing the Blood Guard that affected what you saw. It cannot be possible for a blade to glow like fire, yet, you find your eyes following the blade.<<elseif $chp5_45 is 3>> You believe that the blade is the work of the Ancient Ones for you have never seen a weapon that acted like fire before.<</if>> Without thinking, you find yourself hurrying after Anu. You have barely seen her since returning from Sangasu, for most of her time has been spent training and helping Lord Redall's soldiers search for the escaped Nomad prisoners. Her steps are faster than your and you have to run to keep up with Anu's long strides. She soon steps through an archway and you soon follow after her. [[Next.|chp7_9]]

You realise that you are standing outside once more, but there are walls that enclose around the space, keeping the rest of those in the main temple out. Above you, a wooden trellis sits above the walls, letting the sunlight beam down against the ground in interspersed patterns. But your inspection of the courtyard is interrupted when Anu's eyes find you. Her eyebrows narrow over her grey eyes and she frowns. "Why did you follow me?" You stare at her for a moment. In the sunlight, her dark hair seems more brown than black and despite the heat, she seems unbothered by its effects. "You knew that I was following you?" you question, instead of answering her. Anu scoffs, "Anyone could have heard your footsteps, $name. You are not nearly as stealthy as you might think." She steps closer, her gaze sweeping over your face. "Now tell me. Why did you follow me?" <<set $chp7_9 to 0>> [["I wanted to know more about your weapon and how it works," you reply, glancing at her sheathed sword.|chp7_10][$chp7_9 +=1, $anuRel +=5]] [["Your weapon," you state, examining it in curiosity. "It is remarkable."|chp7_10][$chp7_9 +=2, $anuRel +=5]] [["Your arrogance must know no bounds if you would think that I would waste my time following you around," you spit.|chp7_10][$chp7_9 +=3, $anuRel +=5]] [[♡"I..." you stammer, your words dying on your tongue. You cannot think, not when her grey eyes are examining you like that.|chp7_10][$chp7_9 +=4, $anuRel +=5, $anuRom +=5, $shy_anu +=5]] [[♡"Perhaps I am besotted with you and could not resist following you," you tease, smirking at her.|chp7_10][$chp7_9 +=5, $anuRel +=5, $anuRom +=5, $bold_anu +=5]]

<<if $chp7_9 is 1>> "I wanted to know more about your weapon and how it works," you reply, glancing at her sheathed sword. The crease in Anu's forehead smooths away and she lets out a breath as the suspicion in her expression eases. She glances at the sword against her hip and then, returns her eyes to you. A small smile pulls at the corners of her lips as her eyes flicker with pride. "You have not seen a weapon like Atses' Heart before?" she questions. You shake your head. "Most do not glow like yours." Anu chuckles, reaching out to unsheathe her blade. You stare at it. The metal is dull and you frown when you notice that it does not burn brightly as it had on the night that you helped free the Ishari prisoners. Anu swings the weapon, the blade cutting through the air with sharpness but there is nothing remarkable about it now. "It is not glowing," you mumble. Your eyebrows furrow. "How do you make it glow?" "I douse it in oil and set it alight," Anu remarks, grinning at you. Your eyes widen. "Truly?" A bark of laughter leaves her lips and she shakes her head. "Of course not, $name." <<elseif $chp7_9 is 2>> "Your weapon," you state, examining it in curiosity. "It is remarkable. You cannot keep the reverence from your tone as you gaze at the sword. Though it is sheathed, you can still remember the way it had cut through the metal grate as though it had been butter. In all your life, you have not seen another blade that acts the way Anu's does. You look up at her and find that Anu is smiling, her expression filled with pride. "Atses' Heart is remarkable," Anu replies. She grips the hilt at her side. "It is not an easy blade to wield." Her grip tightens around the hilt and she unsheathes it from her side. Your eyes follow the blade's movement as it arches through the air. It is finely made and from the gleam against the metal, you know that it is well-cared for by Anu. But despite its beauty, you are surprised when you find that the blade does not burn brightly as it had. "It is not glowing," you state, frowning. Anu shakes her head. "No, it is not." "I do not understand," you reply. "How did you make it change colour then?" "Perhaps you imagined it," Anu responds. She casts you a sidelong glance. "You seem prone to making up stories to impress others." You frown. "I... no. That is untrue." Anu laughs, the sound loud and light. When the sound eventually fades, you find that there is amusement in her grey eyes. "I am only teasing, $name," Anu explains. <<elseif $chp7_9 is 3>> "Your arrogance must know no bounds if you would think that I would waste my time following you around," you spit. You do not know what it is about Anu makes your skin itch with frustration. Perhaps it is the way her gaze narrows on you or the sharp tone in her voice that sets your teeth on edge? Anu's glare only deepens and she steps closer, her expression thunderous as she lowers her voice. "You are the one who followed me," she hisses. "Do not goad me into attacking you, $name. We both know that you will not come away unscathed." Her words rankle you further and your fingers curl at your sides, forming into fists. The desire to swing at her face grips you and your teeth grind against each other as you struggle to push down your anger. It boils beneath your skin and threatens to spill past your lips in a growl. "You must think yourself capable of much," you snap. "But without your blade, you are no better than any other warrior." You smirk when Anu's eyes widen before the scowl on her lips deepen. She grunts, a frustrated sound and you know that you have found her weakness. Anu's grip on the hilt of her blade tightens and for a moment, the air cracks and presses against you uncomfortably. "I do not need Atses' Heart to beat you in a duel," Anu mutters. She grins, her teeth flashing dangerously at you. "But it would be quite enjoyable to see you flailing when I cut you down with it." <<elseif $chp7_9 is 4>> "I..." you stammer, your words dying on your tongue. You cannot think, not when her grey eyes are examining you like that. The air grows warmer and- //no//. You are warmer. Your skin feels like it is on fire and it is hard to breathe. Sweat gathers at the nape of your neck and you feel its descent as Anu's eyes shift towards your flustered expression. She draws closer and you force yourself to look away, unable to control the loudness of your heartbeat or the way you nearly stumble from her proximity. "What is it //my sweet//?" Anu questions, her voice deceptively soft. "Is something the matter or have I rendered you voiceless?" "No," you blurt. Your cheeks grow hot under Anu's gaze. "I am... I was... Your sword. I came here for your sword." Anu raises an eyebrow at you, her lips pulling into a wide smirk. You flush, suddenly rethinking following the warrior priestess into a secluded courtyard. She must know the effect that she has on you because suddenly, Anu is leaning closer, her fingers brushing against your cheek. You shudder as her fingers graze your skin, sending a thrill of warmth through you. "If I did not know any better, I would say that it is a euphimism for something-" "That is not what I meant!" you protest, suddenly wishing you could disappear. "No?" Anu sighs. "It is a pity because I had been hoping you had followed after me for something more scandalous, $name." <<elseif $chp7_9 is 5>> "Perhaps I am besotted with you and could not resist following you," you tease, smirking at her. Your flirtation does not go unnoticed by Anu and you are pleased when her lips pull into a wide smile. She draws closer to you and it is difficult to stop from curling closer towards her. Your heart thrums loudly beneath your chest and your skin tingles pleasantly with heat and excitement. Anu gazes at you, her grey eyes suddenly filled with unveiled desire. "I should have known that this would eventually come to be," Anu breathes. She reaches out, her fingers cupping your chin. "Many have tried and failed in their pursuit of me, //my sweet//." "Oh?" you ask, leaning into her touch. She grins, her gaze lingering on your mouth for longer than necessary. The sight sends a shiver down your spine and you swallow, suddenly trying to ignore the heat that pools in your stomach. Anu chuckles, her thumb stroking along your cheek before she draws her touch away. You almost keen in protest, but manage to swallow your voice down. "Perhaps you will prove to be a better distraction," she murmurs. "After all, how could I say no to you when you are looking at me like that?" You blink, your face warm as you meet Anu's gaze. "You must be mistaken. It is your sword that is deserving of my gaze, not you, Anu." Anu chuckles and the sound tugs at your chest. You resist the need to draw Anu close, desperate to feel the gentle brush of her fingers against your skin once again. "Ah yes, Atses' Heart," she sighs. "I can assure you that most conversations of my sword has led to some pleasurable encounters." <</if>> [[Next.|chp7_11]]

Anu turns away, her eyes lingering on Atses' Heart. She runs her finger across the hilt, drawing your attention to the elaborate design which consists of curled copper that clung to the handle of the sword. The guard seemed to be thicker than most you had seen and you vaguely wondered if it was to protect the wielder from the strength of its blade. "When I became a priestess, it was more because of the divinity in my blood than my skills at worship," Anu explains. "I was the first priestess that had been blessed by the Ancient Ones in years. Atses' Heart chose me as much as I chose it." You gaze at the sword as Anu draws it under the sunlight. This close, you notice faint inscriptions carved into the metal and at the pommel, you note an image of Atses carved into the material. Anu sighs, sheathing the blade once more before she glances at you. "What is it that you wished to know? I suppose that you know nearly nothing about our weapons or gifts considering your upbringing," she states. There is nothing cruel in Anu's tone, yet the jab about your past is not as easily ignored by you as you would have hoped. You shake away the thought, your eyes returning to the blade at her side. <<set $chp7_11 to 0>><<set $chp7_11A to false>><<set $chp7_11B to false>><<set $chp7_11C to false>><<set $chp7_11D to false>><<set $chp7_11E to false>> [["Who made the blade?" you question.|chp7_11A][$chp7_11 +=1, $chp7_11A to true]] [["Are there more weapons like Atses' Heart?" you ask.|chp7_11B][$chp7_11 +=1, $chp7_11B to true]] [["Can anyone wield a divine weapon?" you query.|chp7_11C][$chp7_11 +=1, $chp7_11C to true]] <<if $spiritual_ancient lt 49>> [["It is impossible to believe that the blade is truly blessed by the Ancient Ones," you huff.|chp7_11D][$chp7_11 +=1, $chp7_11D to true]] <<else>>[["The blade is truly blessed by the Ancient Ones then?" you ask.|chp7_11E][$chp7_11 +=1, $chp7_11E to true]]<</if>>

"Who made the blade?" you question. Anu raises an eyebrow at you as if you have asked her why she breathes air. You are uncertain if everyone in Ishari knows the answer to the weapon's creation or if Anu is simply annoyed that you do not. She glances at the sheathed blade at her side, before she deigns to answer you. "Atses made it in the first cycle of our existence," she replies. You frown in confusion. "You mean to say that one of the Ancient Ones created the sword? But how?" Anu shrugs at you. "Atses forged the blade and gifted it to his followers. As to how he crafted it, only those who were trusted by Atses knew the true manner in which the blade was forged but that was during a time when the Ancient Ones lived amongst us." "That still does not answer much," you murmur. "What does it matter?" Anu scoffs. "The blade exists and that is enough." [[Next.|chp7_11_landing]]

"Are there more weapons like Atses' Heart?" you ask. Anu pauses, her gaze thoughtful as she inspects you. You frown, unsure what it is that she is examining you for - trust? Deception? Whatever she must see in your face, Anu seems to have found her answer. She turns away from your gaze, her eyes distant and her voice hard. "There were many," she explains. "For a time, there were plenty weapons forged by the Ancient Ones." "What happened to them?" you ask. She frowns. "The war happened. Cyre's King knew that he would not win against our warriors if we had weapons that could cut through armour with ease. He killed those who guarded our weapons and had them destroyed." "How is that possible? I thought only a blessed few could wield them?" you ask. Anu turns, narrowing her eyes at you. "The weapons are useless in the hands of those who are not blessed. Some who have enough faith have been able to make use of the weapons but more than not, it kills them before they can manage much." "So there are no weapons besides yours?" you question. Anu shakes her head. "There are others but their location is kept hidden from anyone who is not the High Priestess." [[Next.|chp7_11_landing]]

"Can anyone wield a divine weapon?" you query. It is difficult to know if only those who are blessed can wield the divine weapons or if it simply because there seems to be a lack of them available to the rest of the warriors and priestesses. Anu glances at you, her eyes distant and a small frown tugging down at the corners of her mouth. "No," she answers. "Many who have been devout have tried to wield the divine weapons but they could not control the power within the metals. Some have died trying and many more have been injured." "But if it is based on a person's belief then why can they not wield the weapon as you do?" you ask. "It is not only faith, $name," Anu retorts. "It depends on your blood and whether or not you were born under a blessed star. There are a number of factors that will affect whether or not a person has enough divinity in them to wield a weapon." "So how do you know if a person is blessed?" you question. Anu shrugs. "Some will discover it by accident and others will seek to try to hold a weapon in the hopes that it awakens their divinity." [[Next.|chp7_11_landing]]

"It is impossible to believe that the blade is truly blessed by the Ancient Ones," you huff. There is nothing that has convinced you that the blade that Anu wields is anything other than an ordinary blade. Your belief in the Ancient Ones is not nearly as strong as those who are devout and perhaps it is why it is difficult to believe what Anu has told you. "Believe what you want," Anu huffs. "I do not care. It does not change what I know to be true." <<if $chp7_7B is true>> Earlier, when you visited the prayer chamber, you remember the way that the statue of Ehulla had been adorned. It is clear that the people in Ishari and those who visit the temples truly believe that the Ancient Ones have influenced their lives.<<else>> Anu's vehemence is unsurprising. During your stay in the temple, you have learnt that many are devout and their worship of the Ancient Ones is an unwavering thing. It is clear that Anu truly believes that the Ancient Ones have blessed her blade, no matter what you might say.<</if>> [[Next.|chp7_11_landing]]

"The blade is truly blessed by the Ancient Ones then?" you ask. <<if $spiritual_ancient gte 51>> Your faith in the Ancient Ones has gradually become stronger in your weeks spent in Ishari. You stare at Anu's blade, nearly reverent as the thought of being able to wield a sword forged by Atses fills your mind. Anu catches your stare and offers you a smile. "Yes," she answers. "Most of the weapons that were forged and blessed were done in the first age. They are said to be made from the essence of the Ancient Ones and it is why they can change their form when imbued by its wielder's divinity." <<else>> Your belief in the Ancient Ones is not nearly as strong as Anu's seems to be. You have not been as devout as the worshippers who visit the temple nor have you made any offerings to the shrines. Yet, as you gaze at Anu's blade, you cannot deny that the blade seems to be otherworldly in its origin. The fine craftsmanship and the way it seemed to glow when Anu held it during the prisoner escape leads you to believe that the weapon is blessed. Anu notices your gaze and offers you a small smile. "It is a blessed weapon," she explains. "When I first became a priestess, I was told that the divine weapons are here to remind us that the Ancient Ones are not truly gone. They have left us pieces of them when they returned to the stars."<</if>> [[Next.|chp7_11_landing]]

<<if $chp7_11 lt 4>>You pause, taking in what Anu has told you. There is still so much that you do not understand about the divine weapons or what it means to wield them. <<if $chp7_11A is false>>[["Who made the blade?" you question.|chp7_11A][$chp7_11 +=1, $chp7_11A to true]]<<else>>//You have already learnt about the creator of the blade.//<</if>> <<if $chp7_11B is false>>[["Are there more weapons like Atses' Heart?" you ask.|chp7_11B][$chp7_11 +=1, $chp7_11B to true]]<<else>>//You have already asked Anu about the other divine weapons.//<</if>> <<if $chp7_11C is false>>[["Can anyone wield a divine weapon?" you query.|chp7_11C][$chp7_11 +=1, $chp7_11C to true]]<<else>>//You have already questioned Anu about the weapons' wielders.//<</if>> <<if $spiritual_ancient lt 49>> <<if $chp7_11D is false>>[["It is impossible to believe that the blade is truly blessed by the Ancient Ones," you huff.|chp7_11D][$chp7_11 +=1, $chp7_11D to true]]<<elseif $chp7_11D is true>>//You have made your point known that you do not believe in the Ancient Ones' blessings.//<</if>> <<else>><<if $chp7_11E is false>>[["The blade is truly blessed by the Ancient Ones then?" you ask.|chp7_11E][$chp7_11 +=1, $chp7_11E to true]]<<elseif $chp7_11E is true>>//You have already questioned the truth of the Ancient Ones' blessings.<</if>><</if>> <<elseif $chp7_11 is 4>>Your most pressing questions regarding the divine weapons have been answered, though you cannot say that you understand it all. Anu lets out a sigh and stretches her arms above her head. For a moment, you become aware of the toned muscles and how she holds herself much like a soldier would. "Are you just going to stand there and watch me?" she demands. You frown. "Watch you?" Anu scoffs. "Before you followed me here, I had intended to practise my skills with Atses' Heart." You realise that in your haste to learn more about Anu's blade, you did not consider why she had come to the secluded courtyard. Anu raises an eyebrow at you and you wonder if she is musing about whether or not to challenge you to a duel. "You practise alone?" you ask. She shrugs. "I cannot spar with the other warriors when my weapon could cut through theirs." Gazing at Anu, you notice the way she grips the pommel as though she is desperate to draw out the blade but hesitant with your presence. Her question is a silent one and it dawns on you that she is expecting you to speak. Your eyes drift to Atses' Heart once more. Perhaps studying the blade while Anu wields it will answer your questions. "I will watch you then," you respond. <<if $anuRel lte 49>> Anu scoffs. "Do not get in my way.<<else>>"Very well," she replies. "Stay clear so I do not have to worry about stabbing you."<</if>> [[Next.|chp7_12]]<</if>>

Anu takes a few steps away from you before she unsheathes Atses' Heart. There is a sharp, metallic sound as the blade is drawn from the sheathe at Anu's hip and it hisses as the blade cuts through the air. The blade remains the same as it had been earlier. It does not burn as though it is on fire. Anu casts you an amused look. "You seem disappointed, $name," she calls. "Were you hoping for more?" You frown, not admitting that you had been hoping to witness the same thing you had the night that Anu cut through the metal bars of the prison. But Anu only grins at you, her lips peeling back as you catch a glimpse of her teeth. She grips the handle of the blade, her knuckles tightening as her eyes close in concentration. It is the air that changes first, the temperature rising until you feel heat like the fan of flames from where Anu stands. Your breathing grows sharper and you shudder as the hairs along the back of your neck stand, a low crackling echo in your ears. You shake your head, trying to rid yourself of the feeling, but it only worsens. Anu's eyes open and suddenly, they are gold - not grey. You watch in equal parts of horror and fascination as the dull blade of Atses' Heart begins to glow, as though it was embers coming to life again. The heat intensifies and you fight the urge to flee, ignoring the voice in your head that tells you to run. <<set $chp7_12 to 0>> [[You stare in wonder.|chp7_13][$chp7_12 +=1]] [[You stumble back in fear.|chp7_13][$chp7_12 +=2]] [[You balk at the sight.|chp7_13][$chp7_12 +=3]]

<<if $chp7_12 is 1>> The change in the blade is remarkable. You can do nothing but stare as the once dull grey of the blade seems to glow brightly, burning from within. Without thinking, you draw closer, feeling your skin prickle with uneasy tension as you take in its sight. Anu makes a sound, something like a growl and you grimace, looking at her. She is //different//. Her eyes glimmer, burning like fire and the glow only seems to engulf the rest of her form completely. It is hard to think when you look at Anu like this. There is nothing human about her appearance, not when she holds a glowing sword without any sign of strain. "I told you to stay back," Anu hisses. Her voice is deafening and you shudder, your ears ringing from the sound. It is so inhuman, so wrong and yet you know that it is Anu's voice all the same. You try to move, but your legs remain rooted to the spot. For a moment, you can do nothing but stand there, your heartbeat quickening and your skin growing hotter until you are certain you will be boiled alive. <<elseif $chp7_12 is 2>> There is a lump in your throat as your eyes widen. Anu stands, no longer the woman you had seen only moments earlier. You feel it in your bones, deep in your gut that there is something wrong with what you are seeing. The blade of Atses' Heart is almost too bright to look upon and you wince as the lick of heat spreads through your skin. You try to swallow a breath but it struggles to move past your throat, causing your chest to tighten painfully. Anu stares at you, her eyes like the fire of the sun. It swallows your thoughts and buries itself deep in your mind until your feet stop moving and your body grows stiff with fear. Anu narrows her gaze and when she speaks, her voice is thunderous. "What is wrong with you?" she asks, moving closer. Your ears ring and you shut your eyes against the sudden brightness of the blade. You open your mouth but it feels as if you are fighting against a mounting pressure, as though you were pushing against the wind during a storm. Sweat drips down your brow and you struggle to make a sound, your words trapped behind your lips. <<elseif $chp7_12 is 3>> You thought that you were prepared for the sight of Atses' Heart, but you realise now that you were not. Your skin burns and your teeth grind against each other. It is difficult to stare directly at the blade, its glare too bright and the heat nearly singing your skin. Anu, too, is different. She is nothing like the woman you remember. Her eyes burn like flames, swallowing any remnants of the grey that had been there before. You open your mouth then close it as your ears begin to ring with a deafening roar. It is as if you have been thrust into the heart of a fire, confined by walls of flame. "$name?" Anu calls, frowning at you. Her voice is louder, too loud for you to think beyond the crackle in the air. You gasp, your legs weakening under your weight and you fear that you will crumple against the hard ground. Anu steps closer and you hiss, as though burnt. Your skin grows hotter until you can no longer move, your legs rooted to the spot. <</if>> [[Next.|chp7_14]]

It becomes all too much and your legs are the first to give way. You fall, the ground hard beneath you, hands gripping the dirt until they burn with effort as you try to force down your breaths. You cannot look at anything. Your head is suddenly filled with pain and exertion as you blink away the dark spots in your vision. Your chest heaves and it is as though are suffocating, strangled by an unknown force that squeezes around your throat. Anu is at your side and you struggle to hear her voice. She had been so loud and yet, now there is nothing but the sound of blood rushing through your ears. Something is wrong, or perhaps she is wrong, because you cannot hear any words. And then it no longer matters. Your eyes drift towards the burning in the ground and you realise that Anu has flung Atses' Heart to the floor. Tears prickle at your eyes but you cannot ignore the burning, the tugging that draws your hand towards the blade. Anu reaches out for you but you are suddenly crawling towards the fallen sword. It burns even brighter, shrieking in your ears and you... <<set $chp7_14 to 0>><<set $chp7_burn to false>><<set $chp7_sword to false>><<set $sword_reject to false>> [[...reach out for the handle.|chp7_15][$chp7_14 +=1, $showdivinity to true]] [[...reach out for the blade.|chp7_15][$chp7_14 +=2, $showdivinity to true]] [[...fight against this feeling and force yourself back.|chp7_15][$chp7_14 +=3, $sword_reject to true, $showdivinity to true]]

<<if $chp7_14 is 1>> The shrieking, because that it is all you can call the grating sound of screams and hisses, becomes all-consuming. You push against the unseen barrier, crying out as your fingers fumble for the hilt of the blade. Your hands are trembling and your eyes burn with unshed tears but you cannot refuse the tugging in your head, luring you closer to Atses' Heart. Your fingers grasp around the hilt. The shrieking stops until all you know is silence. For a moment, you can only stare at the blade in your hand. It glows brighter but you do not turn away, unable to move as a tremor runs through your fingers and sinks into your chest. <<if $spiritual_ancient gte 65 and $spiritual_solus gte 65>><<set $chp7_sword to true>> You are suddenly whole again. You exhale sharply, the weight that had been drawing you to the floor now absent as your fingers curl around the hilt of Atses' Heart. Anu lets out a surprised sound and you turn, facing her as she stares at you with wide eyes. Her eyes are no longer on fire and- //no//. That is not right. Anu's eyes flicker with swirling flames but it no longer hurts to stare at her. You open your mouth to speak, but the voice that leaves your lips is loud, a gravelly sound that rumbles through your chest. You blink, confusion filling your mind and when you look down at the blade in your grasp, you realise that it is still on fire. "$name," Anu breathes, her eyes wide. "You are wielding Atses' Heart. I do not understand..." <<elseif $spiritual_ancient gte 65 and $spiritual_solus lte 64>><<set $chp7_sword to true>> You are suddenly whole again. You exhale sharply, the weight that had been drawing you to the floor now absent as your fingers curl around the hilt of Atses' Heart. Anu lets out a surprised sound and you turn, facing her as she stares at you with wide eyes. Her eyes are no longer on fire and- //no//. That is not right. Anu's eyes flicker with swirling flames but it no longer hurts to stare at her. You open your mouth to speak, but the voice that leaves your lips is loud, a gravelly sound that rumbles through your chest. You blink, confusion filling your mind and when you look down at the blade in your grasp, you realise that it is still on fire. "$name," Anu breathes, her eyes wide. "You are wielding Atses' Heart. I do not understand..." <<elseif $spiritual_ancient lte 64 and $spiritual_solus gte 65>><<set $chp7_sword to true>> You are suddenly whole again. You exhale sharply, the weight that had been drawing you to the floor now absent as your fingers curl around the hilt of Atses' Heart. Anu lets out a surprised sound and you turn, facing her as she stares at you with wide eyes. Her eyes are no longer on fire and- //no//. That is not right. Anu's eyes flicker with swirling flames but it no longer hurts to stare at her. You open your mouth to speak, but the voice that leaves your lips is loud, a gravelly sound that rumbles through your chest. You blink, confusion filling your mind and when you look down at the blade in your grasp, you realise that it is still on fire. "$name," Anu breathes, her eyes wide. "You are wielding Atses' Heart. I do not understand..." <<else>> The hilt of the blade burns under your grip and no matter how much you try to let go, your fingers tighten instinctively. You scream as the shrieking suddenly returns, louder and more ferocious. Sweat gathers against your brow and when you try to pull away, something unseen holds you down until you can no longer breathe. Anu is suddenly before you, her eyes wide as she tries to pry your fingers from around the hilt of the blade. It burns brighter and your voice pulls from your lips, a low howl that is animalistic in its sound. Something hot and wet drips down your lips. It is an unpleasant taste, sharp and metallic. There is a loud crackle and you are flung away from the sword, landing against the ground. You struggle for breath, dirt and sand coating the back of your throat. Pushing yourself up, you nearly stumble back down, your head swimming with diziness and agony. You wipe at your nose and find that your palm comes away red. The shrieking has stopped but in its place is a low, hollow feeling, forcing you back to the ground.<</if>> <<elseif $chp7_14 is 2>> Something in the back of your mind screams at you to stop. You know that the blade has cut through metal before, it will certainly slice open your palm if you touch it. Yet the voice is muffled, soft as you struggle towards Atses' Heart. The shrieking in your ears grows louder, screaming for you and you find that you can do nothing but obey. Your fingers grasp the blade. It is hot, nearly scorching under your skin and you hiss as the metal clings to your palms, burning through your flesh and melding into your bone. The shrieking suddenly stops and you blink away the tears gathered in your eyes. For a moment, there is nothing but silence and the feel of the blade in your palm. <<if $spiritual_ancient gte 65 and $spiritual_solus gte 65>><<set $chp7_sword to true>> Gently, you loosen your grip around the blade. The burning ebbs and when you stare down at your palm, you are surprised to find that your skin is still smooth. There is no blood, no blisters from where you had been burnt by the blade and you can only stare in astonishment. The weight that had been holding you down eases from your shoulders, un unfurling heaviness that disappears the longer you breathe. You run your fingers over the blade, confused when the burning metal does not scorch like it had earlier. Swallowing, you look up at Anu who stands before your kneeling form. Her eyes are wide and her expression filled with disbelief. "You are... I do not understand." <<elseif $spiritual_ancient gte 65 and $spiritual_solus lte 64>><<set $chp7_sword to true>> Gently, you loosen your grip around the blade. The burning ebbs and when you stare down at your palm, you are surprised to find that your skin is still smooth. There is no blood, no blisters from where you had been burnt by the blade and you can only stare in astonishment. The weight that had been holding you down eases from your shoulders, un unfurling heaviness that disappears the longer you breathe. You run your fingers over the blade, confused when the burning metal does not scorch like it had earlier. Swallowing, you look up at Anu who stands before your kneeling form. Her eyes are wide and her expression filled with disbelief. "You are... I do not understand." <<elseif $spiritual_ancient lte 64 and $spiritual_solus gte 65>><<set $chp7_sword to true>> Gently, you loosen your grip around the blade. The burning ebbs and when you stare down at your palm, you are surprised to find that your skin is still smooth. There is no blood, no blisters from where you had been burnt by the blade and you can only stare in astonishment. The weight that had been holding you down eases from your shoulders, un unfurling heaviness that disappears the longer you breathe. You run your fingers over the blade, confused when the burning metal does not scorch like it had earlier. Swallowing, you look up at Anu who stands before your kneeling form. Her eyes are wide and her expression filled with disbelief. "You are... I do not understand." <<else>><<set $chp7_burn to true>> And then, the pain returns. It is agonising, searing your skin and blinding in its wake. You cry out, hunching over where the metal burns at your skin, tearing through flesh until you can smell nothing but your blood. The blade burns hotter, fiercer until your sobs are broken and you taste a bitterness in your mouth. You cannot pull away. Your fingers remain tightened around the blade, as though punishing you in its rejection of your touch. Anu is suddenly screaming. Her voice bursts through the haze that had pulled you towards the blade and her fingers are hard, prying as she tries to pull your grip loose. There is a low crackling and a sharp cry as you are flung through the air. Your back hits the ground with an audible thump and for a moment, you can do nothing but gasp, tasting dirt and blood on your tongue.<</if>> <<elseif $chp7_14 is 3>> Your jaw clenches as you pull away from the tug in your chest. Forcing down the whimper that threatens to spill past your lips, you grip the ground, feeling the dirt gather against your skin. It is difficult to think past the shrieking in your ears, demanding from you to reach out for the sword. But you ignore it, staring down at the ground, resolute in your decision. Sweat trickles down your back as you gasp for air. You can barely move, your limbs are leaden and your skin is on fire. There is a pressure on your shoulder, Anu's voice calling your name but your only reply is a strangled groan. The shrieking still echoes in your head, sending a throbbing ache through your limbs and forcing you to remain hunched on the ground. The sound grows deafening until your eyes dance with dark spots. You blink, but it only worsens, swallowing your sight with darkness. Anu reaches for your shoulders, shaking you but you can no longer move. Your limbs stiffen, your breathing sharp and erratic as you try to speak but there is no sound. <</if>> Your head swarms with heaviness and it is suddenly impossible to keep your eyes open. Anu's face darts into your vision but it grows darker until you can no longer see. The last thing you feel is a strong grip around your shoulders, dragging you from the ground. [[Next.|chp7_16]]

Your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth. You shift, feeling a heaviness against your form. For a moment, you can do nothing more than breathe. A soft glow of golden light shines from behind closed eyelids. Your mind begins to come back into focus. It’s then that you realise you are lying on your back, a soft pillow beneath your neck. You swallow, your throat raw and force your eyes to open. The glow is nearly blinding and you squeeze your eyes closed against its glare. You hear the sound of scraping wood and then feel a cool palm against your forehead. A familiar smell, one that tugs at your memories draws your thoughts to your childhood but it disappears before you can make sense of it. Slowly, you open your eyes and you find yourself facing your mother. She peers down at you, her dark eyes flickering with relief when she meets your gaze. "$name," she breathes. "You are awake." $mama is suddenly wrapping her arms around you, her warmth pressing into your skin. You can smell the perfumed oils in her hair and the way her shoulders tremble against you. <<set $chp7_16 to 0>> [[You stiffen in her hold, unsure how to respond.|chp7_17][$chp7_16 +=1]] [[You accept her embrace, basking in the warmth that spreads through you.|chp7_17][$chp7_16 +=2, $salyraRel +=5]] [[You muster up your strength and push her away.|chp7_17][$chp7_16 +=3, $salyraRel -=5]] [[You are too weak to make sense of how to respond and simply lie there.|chp7_17][$chp7_16 +=4]]

<<if $chp7_16 is 1>> Your limbs grow tense as you feel $mama's hold on you tighten. She is warm and her hair is soft against your face, but there is an uneasiness in her familiarity with you. You do not know how to respond, your tongue still stuck to the roof of your mouth and your head heavy from tiredness. A moment passes and still, your body does not loosen. $mama must notice because she draws away, her eyes filling with sadness. She lets her fingers fall from where they grip your shoulders and she bundles her hands against her lap, masking the hurt on her face with a wide smile that does not quite reach her eyes. <<elseif $chp7_16 is 2>> $mama's hold is like the warm embrace of a fire during winter. Heat, gentle and soothing, spills through your skin and you let out a deep breath. Her hair tickles at the side of your face and the scent of the perfumed oils in her skin tugs at a lost memory, reminding you of a time when there had been nothing but $mama and her gentle touch. She draws away slowly, her eyes watery and her smile soft as she gazes down at you. You stare at $mama, taken aback by the flicker of concern in her eyes as she smooths her fingers against your cheek. She pulls away all too soon and you find yourself longing to be held by her once more. <<elseif $chp7_16 is 3>> It takes you an embarrassingly long time to will your arms to move from your sides. Your body feels sluggish and your fingers are stiff as you force them to push away $mama's grip. She tenses when your fingers push at her shoulders and you realise that your hands lack the strength to successfully push away $mama. She sighs, drawing back from you and note the glimmer of a frown on her lips. There is an unspoken tension in the air, where she seems to want more than you are willing to give. $mama swallows, looking down at her lap, her eyes filling with something akin to hurt. You bury the unwanted feelings that rise within you, suddenly loathing the way you react whenever $mama is near. <<elseif $chp7_16 is 4>> Your eyelids weigh heavily and you struggle to keep from drifting back to unconsciousness. $mama's hold is warm and her perfumed scent fills your nose, drawing you back to wakefulness. It is hard to think over the fatigue that pulls at your thoughts, drawing you into a hazy drowsiness where $mama's embrace does not draw out a reaction from you. She draws away a moment later, her fingers smoothing over your face as she gazes down at you. There is a softness in her expression, one that pulls at a distant memory but it is gone befoer you can grasp it. $mama smiles at you, a gentle expression on her face but you are too weak to respond, barely able to keep your focus on her. <</if>> You open your mouth to speak, but your voice is croaky and your tongue too dry to form any words. $mama's eyes widen and she leans over the bed you lie upon, bringing a wooden cup filled with water to your lips. "Drink," she instructs. Your lips part and you drink gratefully, the water cooling against your raw throat and dry lips. When you can drink no more, $mama places the cup down and helps you to sit up against the swathe of pillows and quilts. You blink, your eyes shifting over the room and you realise that you are in one far larger than the one you had been staying in before. You glance at your mother, confused. She catches your expression and offers you a small smile. "You are in one of the private chambers. It is reserved for me but I thought it would be best if you recovered here." [[Next.|chp7_18]]

Now that the haze that swallowed your mind is no longer as heavy, you realise that you are still uncertain as to what happened. Memories of Anu and Atses' Heart return, leaving you reeling with panic. Your breath comes out sharp and it suddenly hurts to swallow. $mama's eyes widens and she reaches out, forcing you back against the pillows. "$name," she soothes. "You are safe. Please, calm you mind." There is an authorativeness in her tone that forces you to obey. When you meet $mama's gaze, you find that her eyes glimmer like gold but the colour disappears when you blink. She nods at you, smiling when your breathing slows and your shoulders sag against the bed. <<set $chp7_18 to 0>> [["What happened?" you ask.|chp7_19][$chp7_18 +=1]] [["Why am I here?" you question.|chp7_19][$chp7_18 +=2]] [["Where is Anu?" you enquire.|chp7_19][$chp7_18 +=3]]

<<if $chp7_18 is 1>> "What happened?" you ask Your mother frowns, her eyes shifting over your face. There is an ache in your bones and your head throbs painfully when you try to move. You struggle to recall what happened after you reached for Atses' Heart. There has been a shrieking in your ears and a pressure against your skin, like the lick of flames. <<if $sword_reject is true>> "You... the divinity in your blood reacted to Anu's blade," $mama explains. "But you were able to ignore it." You frown, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. As you stare at $mama, you realise that she is unable to meet your eyes. Her gaze sweeps over the room and she smooths down her robes, as if uncertain what to do with her restlessness. "Many have tried to awaken their divinity, but not many have rejected it when it calls," $mama says. "Your body collapsed when you ignored the call of Atses' Heart and you were brought here to recover." <<elseif $chp7_sword is false>> "You... you reacted poorly to the divinity in your blood," $mama answers. "When you reached out for Atses' Heart, you lacked what it sought and it rejected you." You stare at $mama, confusion filling your mind. It is hard to make sense of her words and yet, as you stare down at your hand, you realise that she speaks truthfully.<<if $chp7_burn is true>> Your palm is bandaged with thick cloth and you wince when you try to move your fingers.<<else>> Your palm itches where you grabbed the sword, but there is little else to signal that you ever held it.<</if>> <<elseif $chp7_sword is true>> "You..." $mama says, before pausing. Her eyes glimmer with tears and she offers you a small smile. "You listened to the call of the divine blessings" You frown, staring at your mother in confusion as you try to understand what has happened to you. Your mother notices your expression and she lowers her voice, nearly gentle as she speaks. "You are blessed, $name. Like Anu," she murmurs. "Like //me.//"<</if>> <<elseif $chp7_18 is 2>> "Why am I here?" you question. You cannot deny the twist of worry that pulls at you, gnawing and writhing until your eyes are darting around the room in panic. $mama leans closer, blocking your view of the rest of the room and offers you a soothing smile. "You are here because you collapsed," $mama explains. "I had you brought here so that the healers could treat you without disturbance." Your thoughts shift until you remember the heat of Atses' Heart and the way Anu's eyes burned like the sun.<<if $sword_reject is true>> You refused to touch the sword and perhaps it is why when you stare down at yourself, you find that you have no injuries except for the dull ache in your limbs. $mama gazes at you, her smile faltering. "You did not accept the divine blessings bestowed on you and for that, you did not suffer much harm." <<elseif $chp7_sword is false>> You remember gripping the sword, feeling its heat against your skin.<<if $chp7_burn is true>> Your eyes shift to where the blade cut into your flesh and you find it heavily bandaged.<<else>> Though it stung at your skin, you find that your fingers and palm are still smooth, showing no trace of you ever holding the blade.<</if>> "You... you could not withstand the sword's strength," $mama breathes. "It rejected you." <<elseif $chp7_sword is true>> You had grasped the sword, remembering how it no longer stung your skin or hurt to stare at its brightness. $mama smiles, gazing at you softly. "You awoken the divinity in your blood, $name."<</if>> <<elseif $chp7_18 is 3>> "Where is Anu?" you enquire. You remember the frantic look in Anu's eyes and the sound of her thunderous voice. It is hard to remember what happened afterwards and now, facing your mother, you cannot help but wonder where Anu is. Your mother sighs, looking away for a moment. When she speaks, her voice is low. "Anu is with Sargon," $mama explains. "She brought you to the healers after you collapsed. I... I have already spoken to her about what happened." <<if $sword_reject is true>> You remember the way Atses' Heart had shrieked, the sound piercing and otherworldly and then, the way you resisted the pressure in your mind demanding you grab the blade. There had beena darkness afterwards but you are certain that the person who had carried you had been Anu. "You rejected the divine blessings," $mama murmurs. "And for that, you were not harmed more than a few bruises." <<elseif $chp7_sword is false>> The blade had shone brighter than you could withstand and as you gaze down to where you gripped its weight, you find<<if $chp7_burn is true>> a thick bandage, wrapped around the palm of your hand where the blade sliced into your skin.<<else>> smooth skin, barely any sign that you had ever held the sword.<</if>> "Your blood was not strong enough to withstand the divinity in Atses' Heart," $mama explains. "It... rejected you." <<elseif $chp7_sword is true>> You recall the way the blade had called to you, its shrieking hiss like a grating call for help. Your eyes shift to where you had held the sword and your skin tingles, a vague reminder of the way it warmed your skin but never burnt the flesh. When you look up at $mama, you find that she wears a small smile, pride in her gaze. "You awoken the divinity in your blood, $name," she explains.<</if>> <</if>> [[Next.|chp7_20]]

The memories return like the crashing of a river, filling your head with the way Atses' Heart had gleamed and burned your eyes. You gasp, clutching at your head as a dull throb begins at the back of your eyes. $mama glances at you, her eyes widening before she reaches out<<if $salyraRel gte 60>> and grips your wrist gently.<<else>> before stopping, as though afraid to comfort you.<</if>> "Please, $name," $mama breathes. "It is alright. You need not fear what has happened." Your mother's words are steady despite your nerves and you allow the soft sound of her voice ease over you until your heartbeat slows its pace. A breath escapes you and you find yourself staring at the woman who seems to know than you about what happened. [[Next.|chp7_21]]

"Why am I... how did..." you stammer, stumbling over your words. "Atses' Heart... how is it possible that I heard the blade shrieking like that?" $mama's face twists into a look of concern. She bites on her lower lips, her fingers tightening against the quilt against the bed. For a moment, she does not speak but when she does, her voice is heavy with reluctance, as if the words refuse to leave her mouth. "You must understand something, $name. When you were born, you had come at an auspicious time. Your father and I were grateful for your birth, but we wanted different things for you." You frown. "What do you mean?" "You were my $heir and... there was a ritual where Ehulla would bless those born under an auspicious star. I... your father said it was madness but you were as much my $heir as you were his. I made an offering of my blood to Ehulla and in return, she blessed you with her divinity. You must understand that I only did what I thought was best for you. Best for us." Your mother's words slip over you, ringing in your ears like the drumming of your heartbeat. You swallow a breath then another. $mama looks at you, pleading and desperate. She is the reason for why your blood is divine - she made you like this. <<set $chp7_21 to 0>> [["How can I trust you?" you demand. "All you have ever done is hide things from me."|chp7_22][$chp7_21 +=1, $salyraRel -=2]] [["I... I do not know what to say," you mumble, still reeling from what you have learnt.|chp7_22][$chp7_21 +=2]] [["I trust you did what you thought was right," you respond. "But you never gave me a choice and for that, I cannot forgive you."|chp7_22][$chp7_21 +=3, $salyraRel -=2]] [["It is alright," you breathe. "I do not fault you for what you did."|chp7_22][$chp7_21 +=4, $salyraRel +=2]] <<if $chp7_sword is true>> [["I am grateful for what you did," you reply. "Without it, I would never have been able to wield Atses' Heart."|chp7_22][$chp7_21 +=5, $salyraRel +=2]]<</if>>

<<if $chp7_21 is 1>> "How can I trust you?" you demand. "All you have ever done is hide things from me." The words slip out of your mouth, unbidden and accusing. You stare at your mother, a mixture of incredulousness and anger at everything she has done. $mama looks away from your glare, her lips moving but no sound coming out. You exhale, furious and exhausted with knowing that your mother can never seem to take responsibilty for her actions. "I never meant to hurt you," $mama responds. You scoff, drawing her dark eyes to you. "You never intend to hurt me but that is all you ever do, $mama." She flinches, her eyes widening at your sharp tone and she blinks, swiping at her eyes hastily. Dealing with your mother has proven to be a difficult task, one that only draws out your frustration the longer you spend time with her. <<elseif $chp7_21 is 2>> "I... I do not know what to say," you mumble, still reeling from what you have learnt. Your head still throbs painfully and your mouth is suddenly dry once more. You gaze at your mother, your mind working over her admission of what she did all those years ago. It is difficult to understand everything that she has said and it proves even harder to focus on your feelings about everything your mother has done. "It is a lot," $mama breathes. "But it is alright, $name. You are fine. I... I will be here to explain anything that you do not understand." You stare at your mother, surprised by her suggestion. She never spoke about the ritual she performed when you first spoke and you cannot help but wonder if she would even be telling you about it if it had not been because of your collapse? "I need time," you breathe. "You need to understand that. Everything is happened too quickly." $mama nods in response, her eyes flickering with sadness. She smooths down her fingers across the quilt covering your legs and offers you a small smile, but it does not reflect in her gaze. "Of course, $name," she answers. <<elseif $chp7_21 is 3>> "I trust you did what you thought was right," you respond. "But you never gave me a choice and for that, I cannot forgive you." Your words are bittersweet on your tongue and you look away, hurt and angry at everything that has happened. Yet, you cannot bring yourself to blame $mama, not when you know that her actions all those years ago were influenced by the war and her relationship with your father. "I... I understand," $mama murmurs. She wipes her eyes, a trembling breath escaping her. "I did what I thought was best at the time, but... perhaps I was wrong." You cannot bring yourself to protest against your mother's words. A small part of you still twists in agony, knowing that there is much your mother has chosen not to tell you. You stare at your hands, noting that your mother's settled against the quilt, closely to yours and frown. "You made a choice for me when I was too young to understand what was happening," you breathe. "You..." Your words die on your lips and suddenly, all the strange looks and your father's last and only letter to you makes sense. Was that the reason he chose to flee and leave you behind with $mama? <<elseif $chp7_21 is 4>> "It is alright," you breathe. "I do not fault you for what you did." Your acceptance seems to stun $mama into silence. She stares at you, her eyes wide in disbelief and her fingers trembling against the quilt. Despite knowing what she has done, you cannot bring yourself to blame her. The thought tugs at your chest and you turn away, uncertain what to make of the hollowness that fills you. "$name... I..." $mama mumbles, her voice shaky. "Thank you. You do not know what your words mean to me." Her words pull your attention back to her, noting the softness in her expression and the small smile that pulls at her lips. She reaches out, her fingers brushing against your wrist before she withdraws, wiping her watery eyes. You do not know what to call the feeling inside your chest. It is not quite relief and yet, there is nothing else that fits the easing weight on your shoulders. "It happened a long time ago," you respond. "It would be foolish to hold it against you now. I... I know you meant well." You mother nods, smiling despite the tears gathered in her eyes and you find yourself returning the expression. <<elseif $chp7_21 is 5>> "I am grateful for what you did," you reply. "Without it, I would never have been able to wield Atses' Heart." The blade had thrummed with unknown power, an innate sense of strength that flowed through your veins and left you feeling otherworldly. You swallow a lump, your fingers suddenly itching as though longing for the familiar heat of the blade. Instead, you return your attention to $mama and find that there is a strange expression on her face, remorse and pride. "You have proven to be stronger than most, $name," she breathes. "I... I am glad that you were able to control the divinity in your blood." You recall what Anu told you, about those who never managed past wielding the sword and a sudden sense of loss fills you. Knowing that you could have failed today sends a sliver of panic through your mind and you force away the thought, reminding yourself that you did not fail nor did you die trying to wield the blade. "I heard it calling to me," you breathe. "Is that because of the ritual you did?" $mama stiffens, her eyes widening for a moment. "I... yes, I suppose it is. The ritual only awoken what I knew was already there, $name. Your father..." Her voice trails off and she shakes her head, smiling warmly at you instead. You do not know what to make of your mother's words or what she had intended to say about Ahlf, but you find it difficult to broach the topic when your thoughts return to what you accomplished today. <</if>> [[Next.|chp7_23]]

Silence descends on the room and you let out a tired breath, feeling the fatigue that had left you weak, returning. You gaze at the ceiling, feeling the warmth of the quilts against your skin and you suddenly become aware that it is not nearly as hot as it should have been. Your eyes shift towards your mother and you furrow your eyebrows. "How long have I been here?" you ask. "Nearly a day, $name," she explains. "You could not be roused and the healers said it would be best to let you rest." You sit up suddenly, reminded that you have not spoken to your companions. Panic settles over your mind and you begin to tug at the scratchy quilts, desperate to know what has happened in your absence. Your mother frowns, her hands forceful as she pushes you back against the bed. "You need rest, $name," she states, her eyes glimmering again. Staring at her like this, noting the darkness of her eyes shifting until they appear as hot as the suns, you realise that your mother too, has been blessed by Ehulla. You cannot help but wonder if the ritual she did was because of another plan or because she only thought it would be better for you. <<set $chp7_23 to false>> [[You ask your mother because you need to know the truth.|chp7_24][$chp7_23 to true]] [[You remain silent. You trust what she has told you.|chp7_24]]

<<if $chp7_23 is true>> You have wondered about your mother's actions and after learning about her influence on Princess Sangasu, it is difficult to ignore the gnawing thought that wriggles in the back of your mind. As you take in your mother's features, watching as the gold fades from her eyes, you swallow a steadying breath. "Why did you perform the ritual?" you question. "Truly?" Your mother's expression grows stiff, her lips pressing together. For a moment, she busies herself with fussing over the quilt around your form and the pillows beneath your head. You frown, your eyes narrowing and when you stare up at her, she falters. "It was... you were born under an auspicious star," she murmurs. "And you shared the blood of Ahlf, a Cyrene man. You were half of me and half of him and... I thought that Erlan would see how useless the war was." You frown. "What do you mean?" "I thought that you would convince them that it is possible to live in harmony," she replies. "You had been blessed by Ehulla despite your father being Cyrene. Lamahu saw you only as a weapon and your father thought that I was mad, but I knew that you would bring us peace if-" "Peace?" you interrupt, your eyes widening. "You did it for peace?" Your mother opens her mouth, but a tapping on the door interrupts her. A voice from behind the wood calls out, before it is pushed open revealing... <<elseif $chp7_23 is false>> You wondered about your mother's reasonings, but as you take in her tired expression and weary form, you realise that you do not wish to know them. It is hard to know if it is acceptance or weariness, or perhaps a combination of the two. $mama smiles at you softly and you are struck by a memory of when she had sung you to sleep when you were still young. She reaches out, brushing her fingers against your forehead. "I have not said this to you but... I am proud of you, $name. Your father would be too." Her words cause your breathing to hitch.<<if $salyraRel gte 55>> Warmth like the glow of embers, courses through your chest and spreads down to your fingers. You swallow a hard lump, feeling your eyes prickle with unshed tears and you blink, afraid that $mama will see.<<else>> You are uncertain how to feel about her words, feeling them tug at your chest but it is difficult to tell whether it is longing or loathing. Instead, you turn away, unable to face your mother's smile or the too-soft gaze she offers you.<</if>> "I know that I missed out so much of your life," she murmurs. "But I want you to know that-" There is a tapping on the closed door, interrupting $mama's words. She frowns, turning towards the door as though offended but before she can say anything, it is pushed open to reveal... <</if>><<set $chp7_25C to false>><<set $chp7_25D to false>> [[...a healer.|chp7_25_ALT]] <<if $irusRel gte 75>>[[...Prince Irus.|chp7_25A]]<</if>> <<if $eloraRel gte 70>>[[...Queen Elora.|chp7_25B]]<</if>> <<if $orenRel gte 70>>[[...Sir Oren.|chp7_25C][$chp7_25C to true]]<</if>> <<if $anuRel gte 60>>[[...Anu.|chp7_25D][$chp7_25D to true]]<</if>>

Prince Irus strides into the room, his blue eyes wider than normal and his hair sticking out where he must have run his fingers through the golden strands. He stares at you, his gaze roaming over your face and then, taking in the rest of your prone form in the bed. "$name," he breathes. "You are awake. I tried to... the healers would not let me see you before." <<if $irus_lock is true>>There is a flicker of pain in his eyes as he meets your gaze and your heart lurches at the sight of it. You reach out and Prince Irus is suddenly grasping your fingers in his. His skin is warm against your palm and you suppress a shudder when his tumb begins to stroke at the underside of your wrist.<<else>>You notice the way his hands tremble at his sides and the sharp breaths that escape him. He stares at you as though terrified that you will disappear and any moment and you turn, offering him a small smile. He catches your gaze and slowly, he releases a deep breath before he returns your smile with his own.<</if>> "$name needs $MChis rest, Your Highness," $mama interrupts. "I would suggest you let $MChim do just that." Your attention is drawn towards your mother. She stares at Prince Irus, a complicated look on her face and you are reminded of her influence on Princess Lamahu's dealings with King Erlan. You wonder if she is reminded of what she did every time she sees Prince Irus or perhaps, she is only reminded of the man who started the war that separated you? <<set $chp7_25A to 0>> [["I want to speak to Irus," you state, fixing your mother with a frown.|chp7_25A1][$chp7_25A +=1]] [["You do not get to dictate who I choose to spend my time with," you hiss.|chp7_25A1][$chp7_25A +=2]] [["Irus is important to me," you explain. "I want him at my side."|chp7_25A1][$chp7_25A +=3]] [["Leave," you spit, glaring at your mother. "I have no need for your meddling."|chp7_25A1][$chp7_25A +=4]]

A breath escapes Queen Elora when your eyes meet and you watch as the tension in her shoulders eases, so that they are no longer held tightly around her neck. Slowly, she steps into the room, pointedly ignoring the stare your mother casts her and moves to sit beside you. Her smile is gentle, relieved, as her dark eyes sweep over your form. "You are awake, $name," she murmurs. "I am pleased." <<if $eloraRom gte 65 and $irus_lock is false>> She reaches out, smoothing her warm fingers against your skin and you shiver against the contact, despite the heat of the room. Queen Elora's eyes soften as they meet yours and for a moment, you forget to breathe, enamoured by the affection on her face. <<else>> She reaches out, gripping your wrist in her hand and squeezes gently. You look up, finding it difficult not to mirror her expression. Queen Elora has proven to be a good friend and an even more dependable companion. In the time you have known her, she has proven to be caring and now is no different.<</if>> "Your Majesty," $mama states, her eyes shifting between you and the young queen. "I am certain that $name appreciates your visit but $MChim needs his rest." Queen Elora raises an eyebrow, all signs of warmth disappearing from her expression as she regards your mother. You note the way her lips purse and the hard look that fills her eyes. Neither your mother nor Queen Elora speak, the air threatening to crackle with unspoken tension. <<set $chp7_25B to 0>> [["I want to speak to Queen Elora," you explain, frowning at your mother.|chp7_25B1][$chp7_25B +=1]] [["She is my friend," you retort. "You do not get to tell her to leave."|chp7_25B1][$chp7_25B +=2]] [["You should leave instead," you spit, glaring at your mother. "It is your presence that I do not desire."|chp7_25B1][$chp7_25B +=3]] <<if $eloraRom gte 65 and $irus_lock is false>> [["I care deeply about Queen Elora," you murmur. "I want her here."|chp7_25B1][$chp7_25B +=4]]<</if>>

Sir Oren's hazel eyes sweeps over you, wide and filled with worry as he stands in the doorway. You meet his gaze and feel a sliver of warmth slip through your chest when his lips pull into a relieved smile. He steps closer, before he hesitates, glancing towards where $mama stands. "Captain," $mama greets, her eyes appraising him. "You are here to see $name, I assume?" "I..." he stammers, glancing at you with a soft gaze. "I was worried about $name. I thought that I could... but if $name needs to rest then perhaps I should leave." Your mother nods in response. "That would be for the best. $name needs to recover." <<set $chp7_25C to 0>> [["No, Sir Oren can stay," you say, glancing at your mother with a frown.|chp7_25C1][$chp7_25C +=1]] [["I do not need you to make decisions for me," you snap at your mother.|chp7_25C1][$chp7_25C +=2]] [["You do not know what is best for me," you hiss, glaring at your mother. "Sir Oren will stay."|chp7_25C1][$chp7_25C +=3]] <<if $orenRom gte 60>> [["Sir Oren is important to me," you breathe. "I want him to stay."|chp7_25C1][$chp7_25C +=4]]<</if>>

The healer is an elderly woman and she wears loose robes, unlike the robes of the priestesses of Ehulla. Her eyes settle on you and she smiles, warm and wide. It suddenly reminds you of Ama and you let out a sharp breath, aware that everything has changed since you left Vinia. "High Priestess," the healer greets, nodding towards your mother. "I did not realise that you would still be here. You should get some rest. I will watch over your $heir." Your mother frowns. "Summu, I would rather stay and-" "Go," the healer, Summu, interrupts, her tone soft but no less commanding. "You need rest too." $mama hesitates, before she nods in agreement. Glancing at you, $mama smiles gently but there is an uncertainty in her dark gaze. You do not know what to make of the look, but it is gone before you can dwell on it for too long. "I will speak to you tomorrow, $name," $mama breathes, turning as she leaves the room. [[Next.|chp7_25_ALT1]]

Anu is the last person you saw before you collapsed and she stands there at the doorway to the room, cowed as though afraid of you. Your eyes meet hers and for a moment, you find that they are filled with remorse. But then, she turns away and her head bows slightly when she glances at your mother. You sit up when you note the dark look on your mother's face. "What are you doing here?" $mama demands. "Have you not caused enough harm to $name?" Anu stiffens, her face twisting into an expression you have never seen her wear before - //shame//. "I only wanted to see if... if $name was well." "Well you have seen that $MChe is, now leave, Anu," $mama hisses. <<set $chp7_25D to 0>> [["Let Anu stay," you respond, frowning at your mother. "This is not her fault."|chp7_25D1][$chp7_25D +=1]] [["I do not need you to start protecting me now," you snap. "Anu is here for me, not you."|chp7_25D1][$chp7_25D +=2]] [["Stop," you hiss. "I would rather have Anu here than you."|chp7_25D1][$chp7_25D +=3]] <<if $anuRom gte 60>> [["I want Anu here," you breathe. "She is important to me."|chp7_25D1][$chp7_25D +=4]]<</if>>

With $mama gone, you return your attention to the elderly healer. She moves to sit beside you, taking up the space that $mama occupied only minutes earlier. Her hands are cool as she brushes her fingers over your forehead, murmuring under her breath as she examines your eyes for an uncomfortably long time. "How are you feeling?" she asks. <<set $chp7_25_ALT1 to 0>> [["Tired," you admit, sagging against the bed.|chp7_25_ALT2][$chp7_25_ALT1 +=1]] [["I feel better," you reply, stretching your arms.|chp7_25_ALT2][$chp7_25_ALT1 +=2]] <<if $chp7_burn is true>> [["It is just my hand that hurts," you respond, glancing at your bandaged palm.|chp7_25_ALT2][$chp7_25_ALT1 +=3]]<</if>>

<<if $chp7_25_ALT1 is 1>> "Tired," you admit, sagging against the bed. As the words leave your lips, you realise just how true they are. You are exhausted. It is difficult to ignore the dull throbbing in the back of your head or the heaviness that presses into your bones. Summu nods and stands, moving to a table at the far side of the room. You crane your neck, noticing small vials and clay bowls filled with herbs. "It is understandable," Summu replies. "Most who touch divine weapons do not survive. You are stronger than most but you are your mother's $heir." You frown. What does she mean by that? Does it have something to do with your mother's role as High Priestess or is there something else that you are unaware of? Summu returns, clutching a small bowl in her hands. Inside, you note a dark, green sludge that emits an unpleasant odour. "It is not as bad as it smells," she states, noting your expression. "It will help speed up your recovery. Now drink, $name." <<elseif $chp7_25_ALT1 is 2>> "I feel better," you reply, stretching your arms. Though there is still a stiffness in your limbs and a dull throb in your head, you find that it is not nearly as bad as when you had heard the shrieking of Atses' Heart. You wince, remembering the shrill, otherworldly sound and turn away from Summu's peering face. "You are stronger than most," she breathes. "All the same, you need to rest. Not many have survived touching a divine weapon." She turns, making her way to a low, wooden table at the far side of the room. Upon it, you notice clay pots and thin vials, filled with dark substances and herbs. Summu hums under her breath and your eyes slide away from her wiry frame as you settle against the bed. It is not long before she returns to your side, clutching a clay bowl in her hand. Inside, you notice a dark, green sludge that emits an unpleasant odour. Your nose wrinkles and you frown. Summu chuckles at your expression. "It does not taste as bad as it smells," she says. "Now drink." <<elseif $chp7_25_ALT1 is 3>> "It is just my hand that hurts," you respond, glancing at your bandaged palm. Your skin itches beneath the bandage and you fear what lies under the cloth. The blade of Atses' Heart had burnt your skin, cutting through flesh until you had been certain that it would slice off your hand entirely. As you stare at the thick bandages, you feel the heat once more and you frown, forcing away the thoughts. "Yes, it was a deep wound," Summu murmurs. "You were lucky that Anu pulled the blade from you when she did. If you held it any longer, you would certainly be without a hand, $name." A grimace slips over your face. "How long will it take to heal?" "A few weeks," Summu answers. "It will hurt for a while and I'll still need to remove the thread where I sewed your skin together." Your eyes shift towards your palm and you curl your fingers, wincing when you feel the bite of your flesh tugging against the movement. Summu clicks her tongue, reaching out to unfurl your fingers. Satisfied that you will not try to pull at the bandages, she makes her way to a table at the far side of the room and returns carrying a clay pot fill with a dark, green sludge. Your nose itches as the unpleasant odour reaches you. "This will help you heal," Summu explains. "Now drink." <</if>> [[Next.|chp7_25_ALT3]]

The sludge, for that is all it can be referred to, slides down your throat in a thick, oily descent. It tastes bitter and you nearly retch when your tongue brushes against pieces of herbs where it had not been ground completely. Summu watches you with a sharp gaze, making certain that you finish the contents of the clay bowl before she stands. "Good," she states, when you have emptied the bowl. "Now, you must rest. Your body is unused to acting as a conduit to the Ancient Ones. You must stay in bed for the next week." "I cannot sit in bed for an entire week," you reply. Summu frowns at you. "That was not a suggestion, $name. After your travels, I would think rest would do you some good." She moves to the door, turning to cast a glance at where you lie. A sigh escapes her and her severe expression softens slightly. "Try to sleep, $name," she suggests. "The sooner you heal, the sooner you can return to helping your companions." She leaves before you can respond, casting the room in darkness. For a moment, you stare at the door, your mind already filling with thoughts of what still needs to be done and the Nomad prisoners who have still not been found. But as your mind twists, you find that your eyelids can no longer remain open. Whatever Summu made you drink drags you deeper into the bed, forcing you to give yourself to sleep. [[Next.|chp7_26]]

The rest of the week passes in much of the same way. Healers tend to you on most days, feeding you bitter tinctures that are meant to help you heal faster but they seem unable to answer //what// you are healing from.<<if $sword_reject is true>> Your blood it would seem is not strong enough to endure the divine blessings that flows through $mama and Anu's veins and it has left you bereft of a gift that many admire in Ishari.<<else>> You have noticed the glimmer of respect in the eyes of the healers as they visit you, their voices tinged with reverence simply because you were able to endure the strenght of Atses' Heart.<</if>> <<if $chp7_burn is true>>Summu, the healer who has been at your side daily, now comes to stand at your side. Her gaze shifts over your palm, where the bandage has rested since your skin was cut. A breath leaves her, slow and tired and when she looks at you, her gaze is sorrowful. "Come, it is time to remove the bandage," she murmurs. Her fingers are gentle as they unwrap the cloth from your hand. You stare as the tightness of the bandage releases, revealing your skin beneath. A sharp breath escapes you as Summu tugs away the cloth to reveal your palm. A long line of dark string holds what is left of your palm together. It burns as you move your fingers and you wince when you realise that it will likely scar. "It has healed nicely," Summu murmurs. "You are a strong one, $name." <<else>> Summu, the healer who has been at your side daily, now comes to stand at your side. She smiles as she gazes at you, smoothing her bony fingers against your forehead before she moves to inspect the rest of you with a deep look of concentration. You have become accustomed to the woman in the time that you spent resting, her quiet nature calming as she works. "You have healed well, $name," Summu remarks. "Not many are as fortunate as you." You turn towards her, frowning slightly. "What do you mean?" Summu sighs, her eyes turning sorrowful. "Many do not recover when they awaken their divine blessings, some too weak to withstand the power of the Ancient Ones and others... they perish from their injuries. Ehulla must be watching over you, $name." <</if>> Your conversation is interrupted when you hear a chorus of voices in the hallway outside. You frown, glancing at Summu. In all the time that you have been resting, you have hardly heard anyone outside your room. You wonder if your mother had a hand in that decision or if the room you were granted was truly meant for only the High Priestess. "What is going on?" you ask. Summu shakes her head, scowling. "Some of the warriors are preparing to leave." "Leave? For what?" you question. Summu glances at you, her forehead creased. "I suppose you should know. The Nomad prisoners stole a boat late in the night and managed to flee. Your friends are discussing what will happen but I believe that Lord Redall is about to leave." Your eyes widen and you sit up, much to Summu's displeasure. Standing, you blink away the dizzyness from your vision and make your way out of the room, ignoring Summu's protests to rest. It has been a week and you have rested enough. Sleeping will not stop a war, not when the Blood Guard still pose a threat. [[Next.|chp7_27]]

<<if $chp7_25A is 1>> "I want to speak to Irus," you state, fixing your mother with a frown. You gaze at her, your eyebrows furrowed as your mother's eyes pull away from Prince Irus and settle on you. There is surprise in her gaze and beneath it, a flicker of hurt. You bury down the sliver of unease that fills you at the sight of your mother's look and you turn away from her piercing gaze, unwilling to be swayed by her expression. "$name... I..." $mama breathes, before glancing at Prince Irus. "If this is what you want then I will leave you to it." <<elseif $chp7_25A is 2>> "You do not get to dictate who I choose to spend my time with," you hiss. You are tired of your mother hovering over you as though you are still a child, deciding who you get to spend your time with. Your mother's eyes dart towards you, her eyebrows furrowing in response. A bitter sigh leaves you and you swallow, your mouth dry and your frsutration threatening to become something more. "That is not... $name," $mama mumbles. "I am only trying to do what is best for you." She glances at Prince Irus, frowning. "But if it is what you want then I will leave you both." <<elseif $chp7_25A is 3>> "Irus is important to me," you explain. "I want him at my side." <<if $irus_lock is true>> Your voice catches as the words leave your lips and you feel Prince Irus squeeze your hand tighter, offering you a smile that threatens to steal your breath. A slow warmth spreads through your chest, filling you with the courage to meet your mother's eyes. She stares at where your hands are clasped and a frown tugs at her lips. "Yes... I suppose you would want the man you are //courting// with you," $mama breathes. She shakes her head. "I will leave you both then." <<else>> Throughout everything that you have endured since fleeing Salt Bay, Prince Irus is the one person who has been with you. Your friendship means more to you than your mother seems to understand, or perhaps, she is unable to grasp how the son of King Erlan could ever befriend her $heir. She shakes her head, frowning at Prince Irus before she looks away. "I understand," she replies in a tone that says otherwise. "I will leave you both."<</if>> <<elseif $chp7_25A is 4>> "Leave," you spit, glaring at your mother. "I have no need for your meddling. The sharpness of your tone draws your mother's eyes towards you. You scowl at her, incredulous and furious by her audacity to make decisions for you. $mama falters under your glower and her forehead creases as she stares at you, her expression hurt and filled with concern. The sight of it only serves to make your blood burn hotter as your anger curls around your chest. "I..." she breathes, her voice hollow. "I will go, $name." <</if>> She turns, albeit reluctantly as she makes her way out of the room. Prince Irus' gaze follows her form until she is gone before he lets out a ragged breath. The sound pulls your attention towards him and you note the weariness in his eyes. His shoulders slump and he moves to draw a nearby stool, sitting down against it with an audible sigh. "Your mother does not like me very much," he breathes. "I cannot say that I am greatly upset over that." The revelations of your mother's influence on Princess Lamahu's relationship with King Erlan is a subject that neither of you have discussed since returning from Sangasu. Prince Irus seems content enough to ignore the mounting tension but you find that its weight against your lungs has become almost unbearable. <<set $chp7_25A1 to 0>> [["Do you blame my mother?" you question, curious about his thoughts.|chp7_25A2][$chp7_25A1 +=1]] [["You are not bothered by her dislike?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.|chp7_25A2][$chp7_25A1 +=2]] [["Will we truly not talk about what happened in Sangasu?" you demand, tired of dancing around the topic.|chp7_25A2][$chp7_25A1 +=3]] <<if $salyraRel gte 60>>[["It... I wish that it was not so tense between you," you murmur.|chp7_25A2][$chp7_25A1 +=4]]<</if>>

<<if $chp7_25A1 is 1>> "Do you blame my mother?" you question, curious about his thoughts. Prince Irus stiffens at your words and stares at you, a stricken look on his face. You frown, moving to peer at him closer but the expression leaves his face, replaced by a weak smile that you imagine was meant to be teasing. He sits up, shifting on the stool so that he is facing you where you lie down against the bed. "Do I blame her for you collapsing today?" he asks. "I cannot say that it is her fault but-" "Irus," you interrupt. "You know that it is not what I meant." The smile falls from his lips and he sighs, running his fingers through the strands of his hair. "I do not want to talk about it, $name. You are hurt and that is my focus. Let us talk about you, hm?" You frown at the desperation in his voice and the silent pleading in his blue eyes. It tugs at your chest and you realise that the young prince has not seemed to have fared as well as you would have hoped since your return. A sigh leaves you and you know that pushing the subject now will not bring you any answers, so you nod instead. <<elseif $chp7_25A1 is 2>> "You are not bothered by her dislike?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. Prince Irus looks up at you, his eyebrow raising in confusion. A myriad of emotions flicker through his gaze, surprise, curiosity and then, something that is not quite hurt nor anger slips through the blue of his irises before it disappears. Turning to angle the stool closer to the bed, Prince Irus shrugs in response. "Not everyone likes me here, $name," he answers. "Your mother's dislike is no different." You frown. "After we left Sangasu, I was certain that-" "Why are you bringing up Sangasu?" Prince Irus asks, his eyes widening. You stare at him pointedly. There is an uneasy tension in the air and you cannot help but worry that the young prince is ignoring what he has learnt in favour of preparing for the war against his uncle. But, you know Prince Irus well. The revelation of your mother's influence on what transpired between Princess Lamahu and his father seems to weigh heavily on his mind. "You know why," you answer. "We have not discussed what my mother told us in Sangasu and-" "$name," Prince Irus interrupts, your voice a desperate plea. "Let us not talk about it now. I... I came to see you. You are recovering and that is all that matters to me." You open your mouth to protest but you hesitate, noticing the panic in Prince Irus' eyes. A tired breath escapes you and you find that you no longer have the will to ask Prince Irus more. Instead, you nod and watch as his shoulders slump. He turns, offering you a relieved smile and you cannot help but return it. <<elseif $chp7_25A1 is 3>> "Will we truly not talk about what happened in Sangasu?" you demand, tired of dancing around the topic. Prince Irus' eyes widen at your words and he stares at you as if stunned by the directness of your question. But then, the expression disappears as easily as it had come and he turns away from your pointed stare, his jaw clenching tightly. You sit up, peering at Prince Irus as you try to meet his averted gaze. "It has been three weeks since we returned," you state. "We have secured an alliance but we have not spoken about my mother-" "I do not wish to talk about it, $name," Prince Irus interrupts, finally meeting your eyes. His expression becomes desperate, nearly pleading. "We do not need to discuss it, $name. As you say, the alliance has been secured. We should be focussing on what comes next." Your eyebrows furrow and you examine the young prince. His fingers thread together tightly, his shoulder tense as he meets your gaze and you realise that no matter how much you try to push, he will not speak about the revelations of your mother's actions or her admission of them in Sangasu. "Very well," you breathe. He exhales, a relieved expression filling his gaze. "Thank you." <<elseif $chp7_25A1 is 4>> "It... I wish that it was not so tense between you," you murmur. Your relationship with your mother is still as new to you as it is to your companions, but you have found it difficult to bring both halves of your lives together. Prince Irus frowns, turning to face you fully as his mind seems to work over your words. "You... you want me to have a better relationship with your mother?" he asks. "I did not know that it bothered you, $name." You shake your head. "I only want things to be calmer between you both." Prince Irus lets out a laugh, the sound drawing your attention to him. He runs a hand through his hair, his blue eyes filling with amused confusion. "We are already calm around each other, $name," he answers.<<if $irus_lock is true>> "Or do you wish for us to get to know each other better now that I am courting you?"<</if>> Despite his light tone and easy smile, you cannot help but note the tension in Prince Irus' shoulders. He holds himself stiffly, his fingers tightening where he clasps them together. You remember your mother's revelations in Sangasu and the understanding that came with it in the weeks after your return. Yet, Prince Irus has not spoken about what you have all learnt. "I worry that what my mother told us in Sangasu has made things worse between you-" "$name," Prince Irus interrupts, his voice desperate. "I... I do not wish to talk about that now. If you want me to try more with your mother then I will do so." Your voice falters and you nod, finding it difficult to push him further when he stares at you with pleading in his eyes. Turning away, you exhale deeply, noting the slight relief that spills over Prince Irus' face. <</if>> [[Next.|chp7_25A3]]

The conversation between you slows until there is nothing but a thick silence in the air. Prince Irus glances at you before he looks away again and you fear that you have only soured the mood by bringing up Sangasu and your mother. As you try to come up with something to say, you are surprised when Prince Irus' voice pierces the air. "$name," he breathes. "You are better now? I... the healers told me what happened. I came here as soon as I heard but they would not let me see you." You swallow, your eyes drawn to the soft concern etched in Prince Irus' gaze and you come to understand that the young prince has been worried about you. <<set $chp7_25A3 to 0>> [["I am better now," you answer, touched by his concern. "You do not need to worry about me, Irus."|chp7_25A4][$chp7_25A3 +=1, $irusRel +=5]] [["I..." you mumble, taken aback by his concern. "Thank you for worrying."|chp7_25A4][$chp7_25A3 +=2, $irusRel +=5]] [["Stop fretting," you snap, annoyed by his words. "I do not need your concern."|chp7_25A4][$chp7_25A3 +=3, $irusRel -=5]] <<if $irus_lock is true>> [[♡"I... yes," you breathe, flushing with warmth under his concerned gaze.|chp7_25A4_A][$chp7_25A3 +=4, $irusRom +=5, $irusRel +=5]] [[♡"I am much better now that you are here," you tease, smirking at him.|chp7_25A4_A][$chp7_25A3 +=5, $irusRel +=5, $irusRom +=5]]<</if>>

<<if $chp7_25A3 is 1>> "I am better now," you answer, touched by his concern. "You do not need to worry about me, Irus." Prince Irus glances at you, a smile drawing at the corners of his lips. There is a gentleness in his gaze and you find that you cannot look away from it. You have grown closer over the months that you have travelled together and you realise that his friendship has been one that you have come to value deeply. "How can you ask me not to worry, $name?" Prince Irus questions. "I care about you a great deal." Your lips pull into a wider smile. "I did not take you for being this sentimental, Irus." He huffs out a laugh, casting you a sidelong glance as he runs a hand over his face. All at once, the tension that had built between you eases until the air is warm, a comfortable silence settling over you. Your eyes shift towards Prince Irus and you find that he is already looking at you. His eyes shift over your features, the affection in his gaze evident as he sighs. "I... I am grateful that you are well," he answers. "I could not stop thinking about you here, hurt because of-" He waves his fingers around. "Godly magic." You chuckle. "I do not think the worshippers would appreciate you calling the divine blessings, //godly magic//." Prince Irus grins. "I suppose not." His eyes soften. "But, I meant what I said. I am glad that you are here with me, healthy and alive." <<elseif $chp7_25A3 is 2>> "I..." you mumble, taken aback by his concern. "Thank you for worrying." You swallow the hard lump that forms in the back of your throat, trying to blink back the sudden prickle of tears in your eyes as you look away from Prince Irus' gaze. A breath escapes you and you stare at the quilt, uncertain what to make of the warmth that seeps into your skin and draws tightly around you like an embrace. "Of course I worry," Prince Irus breathes. "You are my friend. I will always worry about you." His words draw your attention to him and you find yourself staring at him in stunned surprise. Travelling with Prince Irus meant that you had to quickly learn how to adapt to each other. It had been survival at first, but you are uncertain how it became more than that. When was the last time you thought about doing anything without Prince Irus at your side? "You..." you mumble, swallowing. "It means a lot to me, Irus. I... I have not had many friends and yours is one that I come to appreciate greatly." Prince Irus smiles, though there is a bitterness about it. "I... I thought I had many friends, before all of this. But I realised that I was wrong. No one truly cared what happened to me if I was exiled." "Queen Elora cares about you," you state. A sharp laugh escapes him. "Yes, I suppose Ellie does care about me. I suppose I could consider Oren a friend too. Perhaps Redall, if I am lenient with the term friend-" "Irus," you interrupt, raising an eyebrow. He stops, smiling at you widely. There is a fondness in his gaze that leaves you unable to meet his stare so directly and you turn to look at anything but Prince Irus. You hear his laugh, a soft sound that is not at all unkind as he draws closer to you. The tension that had been on his face earlier is now gone, replaced with warmth. "What I am trying to say, $name, is that I will always be here for you," he says. "Like the way you have been there for me." <<elseif $chp7_25A3 is 3>> "Stop fretting," you snap, annoyed by his words. "I do not need your concern." The anger comes unbidden, perhaps from the exhaustion in your bones or perhaps from the swirl of irritation at Prince Irus treating you like an incapable child. You glare at him, frowning when he turns away from you with a hurt expression. While your relationship has not been poor, his concern for you only draws a sour mood from you. "I did not mean to upset you," Prince Irus responds. You press your lips together, unwilling to look at him. It is easy enough to grow angry with Prince Irus. His concern for you comes at a time when you are still recovering from your earlier collapse and your limbs feel leaden with an unspeakable weight. You sigh, running your hand over your face and when you cast a look at Prince Irus, you find that he stares at you. "What?" you demand. But he does not flinch from your tone or shy away from your glare. A small, sad smile flits over his lips as he gazes at you. It is difficult to glare at him when he is looking at you like that so you turn away, your teeth grinding against each other. "I am just happy that you are well," he breathes. <</if>> [[Next.|chp7_25A5]]

<<if $chp7_25A3 is 4>> "I... yes," you breathe, flushing with warmth under his concerned gaze. Heat, like the flames of a burning oil lamp, spreads over your skin, leaving goose pimples in its wake. You shiver under Prince Irus' gaze, unable to stop the tugging in your stomach that threatens to flutter with anticipation. //For what?// The unanswered question causes your breathing to hitch and you turn away, unable to meet Prince Irus' blue eyes any longer. You hear his chuckle before you feel his fingers grasping your chin. His touch is searing and you suck in a sharp breath, your heartbeat thudding loudly in your ears. Prince Irus tugs at your face, his grasp gentle as though he is afraid that you are something fragile and delicate. Slowly, your eyes lift to meet his and you are suddenly grateful to be on a bed for you do not think your legs would have been able to withstand the weight of Prince Irus' gaze on you. "That is all you have to say?" he asks, his breath brushing your cheeks. "I had been consumed by my worry for you, Beloved." "Irus..." you mumble, your voice soft and breathless. "I did not mean to worry you." His blue eyes meet yours and the teasing in them fade slightly. Drawing closer, Prince Irus strokes your face with the side of his thumb. It sends a tingle down your spine and you shudder, unable to stop the heat that begins to press beneath your skin. His eyes drag over your face, settling on your mouth before he smiles gently. "I will always worry about you," he admits. "I care about you, $name, more than you can know." <<if $chp7_burn is true>> His eyes slip over your bandaged hand and a frown pulls at his mouth. He stares at your hand, reaching out to cradle your palm between his. You shiver when Prince Irus draws your injured hand to his lips, brushing the barest of kisses against your knuckles. <<elseif $chp7_burn is false>> His fingers drift down, curling over your hand and folding your fingers between his palms. You shiver as heat spreads against your skin, burning from the slow stroke of his touch. Gently, he lifts your hand to his mouth, his lips brushing against your palm in a light kiss.<</if>> <<elseif $chp7_25A3 is 5>> "I am much better now that you are here," you tease, smirking at him. The flirtation in your voice does not go unnoticed by Prince Irus and he is suddenly matching your grin with one of his own. He draws closer, his eyes tracing over your eyes and nose before it settles around the shape of your lips. You bask in the heat that spreads through you, burning at your skin like the spark of a fire. "Oh? If I knew that my presence would have helped you recover, I would have fought the healers to be at your side sooner," he murmurs. Your laughter comes at unbidden at the thought of Prince Irus shoving away the healers to reach you. He raises an eyebrow at your laughter and feigns a wounded expression. "You doubt that I could?" he asks. Your laughter fades into a grin. "Perhaps. I think I would need proof before I can make up my mind." Prince Irus chuckles, leaning closer so that the heat of his breath grazes your skin. You shudder as your stomach tightens from his proximity, suddenly wanting this moment to stretch on for eternity. Prince Irus reaches out, his fingers curling against the soft skin beneath your ear and he draws you closer until you can see the light scattering of freckles along his cheeks. "How do I prove myself worthy, Beloved?" he asks, his voice low and heated. "Tell me and I will do anything you ask." <<if $chp7_burn is true>> You reach out, suddenly wincing when you realise that is your injured hand. Prince Irus frowns, his gaze dropping to the bandage against your palm and he reaches out to cradle your hand gently between his palms. Leaning closer, his lips brush your temple. The kiss is soft, a chaste peck that leaves you wanting more but he withdraws before you can speak. <<elseif $chp7_burn is false>> You reach out, your fingers grasping the side of his face as you draw him closer to you. Prince Irus' breathing hitches and your lips pull into a satisfied smile, enjoying the way he reacts to you. Your eyes meet his and a flicker of warmth passes betwen you, something deeper than the teasing you started. Prince Irus leans closer, his lips grazing your forehead. Heat courses through your skin but he pulls away all too soon, his breathing heavy and his eyes filled with longing.<</if>> <</if>><<set $chp7_25A4_A to 0>> [[You smile as Prince Irus draws you into an embrace.|chp7_25A4_A1][$chp7_25A4_A +=1]] [[You tug Prince Irus into your arms as you hold him closely.|chp7_25A4_A1][$chp7_25A4_A +=2]] [[You tilt your mouth towards his, shivering at the thought of him kissing you.|chp7_25A4_A1][$chp7_25A4_A +=3]] [[You pull Prince Irus close, stealing his mouth with a hungry kiss.|chp7_25A4_A1][$chp7_25A4_A +=4]]

As you settle into the bed, feeling Prince Irus' gaze on you, the door to the room opens, revealing an elderly woman. She wears loose robes and her eyes are soft as she takes in the sight of you. You move to sit up but she is suddenly looking at Prince Irus with a raised eyebrow. "You are still here?" she asks. "Come now, Your Highness. $name needs to rest without you talking off $MChis ear." Prince Irus stands, looking properly chided. He glances at you, an apologetic smile on his lips. "I suppose Summu is right. I should go." "Of course I am right," the woman scoffs. "Now hurry along. I promise you that your friend will still be here in the morning." You watch Prince Irus scamper out of the room, casting you a final look before he disappears from view. The healer approaches you, an appraising look in her gaze as she inspects you. "You have a good friend in that boy," she explains. "But //deities//, he can complain when he does not get his way. If I knew that he would mope around all day, I would have let him in to see you sooner." The healer - Summu, moves to sit beside you. Her hands are cool as she brushes her fingers over your forehead, murmuring under her breath as she examines your eyes for an uncomfortably long time. "How are you feeling?" she asks. <<set $chp7_25_ALT1 to 0>> [["Tired," you admit, sagging against the bed.|chp7_25_ALT2][$chp7_25_ALT1 +=1]] [["I feel better," you reply, stretching your arms.|chp7_25_ALT2][$chp7_25_ALT1 +=2]] <<if $chp7_burn is true>> [["It is just my hand that hurts," you respond, glancing at your bandaged palm.|chp7_25_ALT2][$chp7_25_ALT1 +=3]]<</if>>

<<if $chp7_25A4_A is 1>> It is an awkward position, with Prince Irus still seated on the stool and you lying in the bed but as he leans closer, his arms tugging until you are pressed against his chest, you find that you do not care. You press your face into Prince Irus' hold, breathing in his familiar scent. His grip is tight, his fingers warm as they stroke the back of your neck. You clutch at his tunic, listening to the steady drumbeat of his heart. It is a soothing sound, lulling you into a sense of safety. You sigh and Prince Irus' hold tightens around you. He is warm around you, warmer than any fire could ever hope to be and you nestle closer, never wanting to leave his embrace. "I am sorry that I was not with you..." he murmurs. "I... I hate myself for not being there when you were hurt." You draw away, looking at him with a frown. Prince Irus swallows, his gaze full of remorse and pain. Slowly, you smooth your hand over his cheek, shivering as he sucks in a sharp breath at your touch. You press your forehead against his, breathing in his warmth and enjoying the way his hands curl around your shoulders. "We will both get hurt, Irus. It is the nature of the path we have chosen," you murmur. "I do not expect you to be at my side all the time and I cannot blame you for what happened. Please, do not take this burden as your own." He releases a shaky breath, pulling you closer as he presses a peck against your forehead. For a moment, his lips linger against your skin and you become aware of the heat of his mouth and the growing heat between you. When he speaks, his voice is a whisper, soft and low against your skin. "I... I will try, $name," he murmurs. <<elseif $chp7_25A4_A is 2>> You pull at Prince Irus' arms and after a moment of confusion, he sinks into your touch as you draw him into your arms. You feel his breath against your neck and the way his light curls tickle against your skin. He wraps his arms around your waist, unbothered by your awkward position with him half-buried in your embrace while he still sits on the stood beside the bed. Slowly, you feel the tension in his shoulders ease until there is nothing but a quiet contentedness in the way that Prince Irus leans against you. He turns, your eyes meeting as he takes in your features, a slow smile pulling at his lips. Your heartbeat quickens and you swallow when Prince Irus' palm presses over the thrumming in your chest. A strange look flickers through his eyes and he frowns, his voice soft. "You were hurt today and I was not there to stop it." You frown, your eyebrows furrowing as you take in the remorse in his expression. Gently, you reach out to cup his face in your grip, tilting his chin so that he is forced to look at you. You smile at him, pressing a chaste peck against his forehead. "You are not responsible for keeping me safe, Irus," you breathe. "Would you blame me if our roles were reversed and it was you injured instead?" His eyes widen. "Of course not." You smile. "Then please, do not burden yourself with this. You are here now and that is all that matters." <<elseif $chp7_25A4_A is 3>> You lack the courage needed to press yourself closer and capture Prince Irus' mouth with yours. Prince Irus must see it in your gaze because he is suddenly drawning closer, his fingers brushing against the sides of your face. You grow warmer, feeling his blue eyes take in your features before it settles over your mouth. Slowly, he tilts your head back and leans closer until his lips brush against your cheek. It is painful torture feeling his mouth place gentle, barely-there pecks against your skin, moving in a lazy manner towards the edges of your lips. You shiver when his breath brushes against your mouth and your eyes close against the softness of his thumb running over your lower lip. "//Irus//," you whimper, suddenly desperate for his lips on yours. He chuckles and the sound of his voice reverberates through you. You shudder, growing warmer in your need and open your eyes to stare at Prince Irus. His gaze drops to your mouth and when he speaks, it sends a delicious shiver down your spine. "How can I tease you when you are looking at me like that, Beloved?" he asks. He kisses you then, stealing your breath as his lips work against yours. You sag into his touch, your fingers tightening around his waist as his mouth moves slowly against your lips. Prince Irus kisses you softly, slowly as if taking his time to memorise the shape of your lips and the taste of your skin. You pull at his tunic, suddenly wanting more and you are rewarded by a swipe of his tongue against your lips. You gasp and it is all the entry Prince Irus needs. Suddenly, his tongue is slipping betwen your parted lips, exploring your mouth and drinking in your soft whimpers. The kiss grows deeper and you become lost in the taste of Prince Irus and the heat that swells inside your chest, consuming your thoughts until there is nothing but the thought of Prince Irus. But it ends all too soon. Your eyes flutter apart in confusion, your breathing ragged as you stare at Prince Irus. His lips glisten and his eyes are dark but he grips at your shoulders, shaking his head. "You are still hurt," he murmurs, his breathing as unsteady as your own. "I should let you rest, $name." He draws back and you frown at him. Your voice is breathless when you speak. "I am not tired." Prince Irus chuckles, his fingers brushing your face. "You still need to rest, Beloved." <<elseif $chp7_25A4_A is 4>> A surprised sound escapes Prince Irus but it is quickly swallowed by the press of your mouth against his. He hesitates but you draw him closer until he is stretched over the bed with your fingers clutching him in place. You kiss him with a ferocity that has him responding in equal desperation. His lips are hot against yours, his breathing sharp as you move to cup his jaw with your hand. You are filled with longing as you press your lips against his throat, flicking your tongue against the skin there. Prince Irus gasps, his fingers threading against your neck before he drags your mouth back to his own. Your lips part against his, a thrill of desire and heat spreading through your chest before it settles in your stomach. "Irus," you breathe, gasping against his lips. He groans, settling into the kiss and allowing your tongue past his parted lips. You take your time is kissing Prince Irus, enjoying the way he tastes and the feeling of heat that consumes your body when he strokes the inside of your mouth with his tongue. A shiver runs through your spine and you away, breathless and panting. But before your mouth can return to Prince Irus', he presses his fingers into your shoulders, holding you back. Your eyebrows furrow as you stare at him in confusion. "What is it?" you ask. He stares at you, his lips glistening and swollen and it suddenly becomes a struggle not to lean back and capture them between your mouth. Prince Irus cups your face with one hand, his thumb wiping away at the wetness against your lower lip. "You need to rest, $name," he explains. "You are still hurt." "A kiss might make me feel better," you suggest. He grins, drawing his hand away. "You should rest, Beloved." <</if>> Prince Irus sighs, standing away from you and runs a hand through his hair. An affectionate look finds his eyes as he looks down at where you are still bundled against th bed. You find it difficult to look away from him, feeling heat coil around the air between you. [[Ask him to stay with you.|chp7_25A5_A]] [[Let him leave.|chp7_25A5]]

You reach out and grip Prince Irus' wrist. He frowns, turning to face you with a questioning look on his face. Your heartbeat drums painfully in your ears, the sound deafening as you stare up at him. Prince Irus moves back to your side and you swallow, feeling warmth course through your blood and warm your neck. "Stay," you whisper. "Please." His gaze softens at you and before you can say more, Prince Irus is sliding against the bed, his grip drawing you into his chest. You let out a breath, feeling his fingers stroke soft patterns against your back as he holds you close. When your eyes meet, you find that Prince Irus is smiling at you, a look so intense that it leaves you tingling with warmth. "Very well," he murmurs. "I shall stay with you, Beloved." You return his soft smile, feeling the tiredness from earlier return as you settle into his embrace. His heartbeat is a steady sound beneath your ear and before you can respond, you find yourself drifting into the quiet hush of sleep. [[Next.|chp7_26]]

<<if $chp7_25B is 1>> "I want to speak to Queen Elora," you explain, frowning at your mother. Your mother breaks away her gaze from Queen Elora, glancing at you with surprise and beneath it, mild hurt. A sharpness, thorny and hard, fills your throat until it is painful to speak. It would seem your mother does not understand that you are no longer a child or need her coddling. She frowns, looking at Queen Elora, her gaze darkening. "I... you need to rest, $name," $mama breathes. "But... if this is what you want then I will leave you both." <<elseif $chp7_25B is 2>> "She is my friend," you retort. "You do not get to tell her to leave." There is a sharpness in your tone that draws your mother's attention towards you. Her eyebrows raise in surprise as she stares at you, as though uncertain if she heard you correctly. You frown, narrowing your gaze at $mama. How dare she meddle in your life, ordering your friend away as though you are something to be kept safe. "That is not what I-" $mama says, but stops noting Queen Elora's glower. She exhales, her breath shaky. "I will leave, $name, if that is what you truly want." <<elseif $chp7_25B is 3>> "You should leave instead," you spit, glaring at your mother. "It is your presence that I do not desire." The mounting tension, the stress and the hurt, finally erupts from your lips and draws your mother's gaze to you. She stares at you, her eyes widening and her lips pressing together as she notices your dark gaze. You swallow, the rage burning in your gut, forcing your fingers to tighten around the quilt around your form. "I see," $mama breathes. "I did not know that my presence was bothering you, $name. I will leave." <<elseif $chp7_25B is 4>> "I care deeply about Queen Elora," you murmur. "I want her here." You catch a glimmer of a smile on Queen Elora's lips and you turn to meet her gaze fully. Your heartbeat quickens beneath your chest and a gentle warmth, like the caress of the sun, spreads through your limbs until it is hard to pull your gaze away from her sight. A sigh escapes your mother and you suddenly look away, the moment interrupted. "I... I see," $mama murmurs. "You are close. I am not blind to that, $name. If you wish me to leave then I shall." <</if>> Your mother turns away, moving past Queen Elora with a terse expression on her face. There is a slowness in your mother's steps as though she is reluctant to leave you alone with a foreign ruler. She pauses at the doorway, her eyebrows furrowed before she leaves the room. Thoughts of your mother soon fade from your mind when Queen Elora moves to sit at the foot of the bed. She smiles at you, her expression warm and her eyes bright with softness. You note that she wears a simple tunic and rough trousers, her hair pulled loosely at the nape of her neck. Queen Elora notices your inspection of her and she grins, a teasing glint in her eyes. "There was little time to get dressed up when your mother told us what had happened," Queen Elora explains. Her smile falters. "I... she is not the most pleasant woman to be around. In a way, she reminds me of my own mother." <<set $chp7_25B1 to 0>> [["I am sorry that you have had to deal with her dislike," you murmur.|chp7_25B2][$chp7_25B1 +=1]] [["It is remarkable how calm you remain around her," you respond.|chp7_25B2][$chp7_25B1 +=2]] [["I am not certain," you sigh. "My mother seems to be far worse than yours."|chp7_25B2][$chp7_25B1 +=3]] <<if $salyraRel gte 60>> [["I... had hoped that you would get along," you confess.|chp7_25B2][$chp7_25B1 +=4]]<</if>>

<<if $chp7_25B1 is 1>> "I am sorry that you have had to deal with her dislike," you murmur. You gaze at Queen Elora, your chest tightening at the thought of your mother's coldness towards the young queen. It would seem that after your return from Sangasu, things have only worsened between Queen Elora and your mother and you are uncertain if their relationship will ever improve. "It is nothing that I have not had to deal with before, $name," Queen Elora replies. "Please, do not worry about me." Though Queen Elora's words are sincere, you become aware of the tautness in her posture and the way her fingers tighten in her lap. Since your return from Sangasu, Queen Elora has not hidden her feelings about your mother's actions and you have come to understand that the young queen blames her for the war. "You do not like my mother," you state. <<if $salyraRel lte 49>> Queen Elora scoffs, the sound sharp and full of derision. "She is not the easiest woman to be around so you are right. I do not like her very much." <<else>> Queen Elora hesitates, glancing at you. "I am sorry, $name. But it is difficult to forget what she has done and it does affect how I see her."<</if>> <<elseif $chp7_25B1 is 2>> "It is remarkable how calm you remain around her," you respond. You wonder if it comes from years of dealing with courtiers and nobles that has graced Queen Elora with the ability to ignore the hard stares and displeased frowns that your mother often favours her with. Queen Elora glances at you, a small laugh escaping her lips but her eyes remain pained, as if it your words have summoned dark thoughts to her mind. "I quickly learnt that women like your mother, like //my// mother are easily rattled," Queen Elora explains. "There is little to gain in losing my temper, so it is better to remain calm." Queen Elora shakes her head, the bitterness on her face a reminder of the woman she is around Sovereign Amera and to an extent, your mother. It would seem that in some way, Queen Elora understands the complexities of your relationship with your mother far better than you do and you are suddenly grateful not to be alone in your comprehension of $mama's words and actions. "I wish I knew how to remain as calm as you do," you breathe. A small smile tugs at Queen Elora's lips. "It is easy, $name. You just tell yourself that if she becomes too unbearable, you have a very powerful queen who is unafraid of utilising the palace dungeons." <<elseif $chp7_25B1 is 3>> "I am not certain," you sigh. "My mother seems to be far worse than yours." You do not mean to belittle Queen Elora's strife with Sovereign Amera, but it is difficult not to compare your lives. $mama left you as a child and did not return. You cannot help but wonder if she ever would have returned to you but the thought of it leaves you feeling hollow and tired. Queen Elora frowns, her eyes falling to her lap. "I... It would be futile to compare whose mother is worse, $name." "Your mother did not start a new family without you," you breathe. "I... I know that Sovereign Amera is difficult but she is there for you." A breath, sharp and quick, leaves Queen Elora's mouth. You turn to look at her and instead, find that she is glaring at the quilt against the bed. For a while, she does not speak, her fingers twisting into the rough material of the quilt until her knuckles are tangled in it. "I wish she was not," Queen Elora gasps. "$name... my mother, all she sees is failure. No matter what I do that is all I am to her." "But, you are the ruler," you reply, confused. "You are a good ruler." "My mother does not see it that way and I do not think she ever will," Queen Elora breathes. "What I am trying to say is that everyone wishes their parent was someone else or better but rarely do our wishes come true. You are resilient, $name. No matter what happens, do not let your mother's actions and words control you." <<elseif $chp7_25B1 is 4>> "I... had hoped that you would get along," you confess. Your relationship with your mother has not been as difficult as you imagined it would, though there are times when you are struck by an ache so deep that it fills the expanse of your chest with a sharp twist. As you gaze up at Queen Elora, you cannot deny that you are saddened to know that neither your mother nor the young queen seem able to tolerate each other. Queen Elora glances at you, her lips pulling into a frown. "I... you know that I have complicated feelings about mothers, $name." You nod. "I know that. I just... I thought it would be nice." <<if $eloraRom gte 65 and $irus_lock is false>> She reaches for your hand, stroking gently as she stares at you with a conflicted expression. You know that her relationship with Sovereign Amera is a complicated one, but is it so wrong to want your mother and Queen Elora to do more than to simply glare at each other? "I... I will try," Queen Elora breathes. "For you." Her words are laced with warmth and you find your lips pulling into a smile. Queen Elora sighs, though her eyes are full of affection when she meets your gaze once more. "Never say that I have not done anything for you," she laughs. <<else>> You have come to depend on Queen Elora for her gentle reassurance and sound reasoning in times of turmoil. As you stare at her, you know that you would prefer her to have a better relationship with your mother, one that is not laced with sharp jabs and hard stares. "I..." Queen Elora murmurs, before pausing to smile at you. "If it means this much to you then I will try." <</if>><</if>> [[Next.|chp7_25B3]]

There is a subtle shift in the air as the conversation of your mother slips away from you both. You glance at Queen Elora and despite the dimness of the room, you note the darkness beneath her eyes. There are loose strands of curls around her ears and neck as if she had hastily tied her hair before coming to see you. She catches your gaze and smiles, though it is ridden with concern. "I... Your mother explained some of what happened to you, $name. I was terrified that you..." Her voice catches and she averts her gaze. "I was worried that I would lose you." <<set $chp7_25B3 to 0>> [["You could never lose me," you respond, touched by her concern.|chp7_25B4][$chp7_25B3 +=1, $eloraRel +=5]] [["I..." you breathe, taken aback by her kindness. "I did not mean to worry you."|chp7_25B4][$chp7_25B3 +=2, $eloraRel +=5]] [["It is a futile thing to worry about," you snap. "You will have to face losing people eventually."|chp7_25B4][$chp7_25B3 +=3, $eloraRel -=5]] [[♡"Oh," you mumble, warming at the thought of her concern for you.|chp7_25B4][$chp7_25B3 +=4, $eloraRel +=5, $eloraRom +=5, $shy_elora +=5]] [[♡"Lose me?" you ask, your tone filling with gentle mirth. "Do not be so dire, Your Majesty. I would never leave your side unless you commanded it so."|chp7_25B4][$chp7_25B3 +=5, $eloraRel +=5, $eloraRom +=5, $bold_elora +=5]]

<<if $chp7_25B3 is 1>> "You could never lose me," you respond, touched by her concern. Her worry, the evidence of her care cascades over you with the heat of embers. It begins in your fingers, a tingle so pleasant that it sends shivers up your arms before it swells over your chest and throat. Queen Elora smiles at you, her dark eyes glistening and for a moment, it is hard to form a coherent thought. She is your friend and her gentle affection is one that you never received growing up. "Do not say things like that, $name," she laughs. "Or you might come to regret it when I bother you with all my troubles." You chuckle in response. "You have listened to me without complaint, Your Majesty. I would think that I could return the favour by listening to your woes." Queen Elora grins, the gesture causing her expression to brighten. You are struck then by her youthfulness, remembering that she is only Zikar's age. Yet, her life has forced to grow up much sooner than she deserved and you feel a tug of empathy for the young woman. It would seem that neither of you fully had the childhood you wanted. "Truly? Even when I complain about how loud one of the courtiers snored during a speech?" she asks. "Even then," you respond, returning her smile. Queen Elora smiles, her gaze settling over you. "I... thank you, $name. You are a better friend than I deserve." [[Next.|chp7_25B5]] <<elseif $chp7_25B3 is 2>> "I..." you breathe, taken aback by her kindness. "I did not mean to worry you." Your words struggle to move past your lips, forming a hard lump in the back of your throat. It is still difficult to accept the concern of the young queen without the strangeness of it gripping your thoughts. Growing up in Salt Bay had left you craving for warmth, for the affection that you never received and now, with Queen Elora gazing at you with such warmth, you find yourself at loss for words to express your appreciation. Queen Elora's gaze softens and her eyes meet yours. "I worry about you because I care, $name. You have become a good friend and... it has been a long time since I found someone who does not just see a queen when they look at me." You swallow, your mouth dry and your chest filling until you are certain that your lungs will burst. It is difficult to name the emotion that grips you the most - the happiness from knowing that Queen Elora cares so deeply about you or perhaps it is the surprise that she does. She grins at you, her eyes filling with affection. "I wish we had known each other sooner," she sighs. "I think it would have been nice to have someone other than Iri to complain to. He can be a bit thick-headed at times." You snort, an amused breath escaping you. "I thought he was your friend." Queen Elora chuckles. "I have called him far worse to his face, $name." Her smile softens. "Thank you for being my friend." [[Next.|chp7_25B5]] <<elseif $chp7_25B3 is 3>> "It is a futile thing to worry about," you snap. "You will have to face losing people eventually." You are uncertain what it is that makes your irritation flare at Queen Elora's words, but you find that it is difficult to care when your anger burns deeply within you. She frowns, her eyebrows furrowing at your curtness and she turns away from your hard stare. A bitter sound escapes you and you look down at your hands, suddenly tired of everything. "I am not so foolish to believe otherwise, $name," Queen Elora murmurs. The frown on your lips deepens. "Then why say such a thing?" She turns, fixing you with a sharp glare, but you note the way her fingers tremble. "I said it because I care about you." Her words silence your retort on your tongue and you look away from her gaze, unable to withstand the intensity of her glare or the hurt in her expression. Yet, the simmering annoyance at her words is still there, a pulsing anger that fills you until breathing becomes painful. You have known loss better than most and Queen Elora's words only serves to tug at your ire. "Maybe you should stop caring so much," you mutter. Queen Elora glares at you. "That is my decision to make, $name." [[Next.|chp7_25B5]] <<elseif $chp7_25B3 is 4>> "Oh," you mumble, warming at the thought of her concern for you. The flush of warmth slips over your neck and spreads through your throat until your face feels as if you have been sitting too closely to a roaring fire. You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry and your fingers twitching at your sides. Queen Elora notices your shyness and she leans closer, smiling at you. You swallow a sharp breath, unable to meet her eyes and yet, unwilling to pull away. "I am almost tempted to tease you and yet..." she breathes, trailing off as her dark eyes search yours. "And yet?" you prompt. She smiles, softer and warmer and you are suddenly struck by her beauty. It is more than her messy curls or the way that she smells, like honey and jasmine. //No.// Her beauty comes from the way that she looks at you, the warmth of her smile as she accepts you as you are, a knowledge that renders you voiceless and too warm. "I could not tease you when you are hurt, $name," Queen Elora murmurs. "It would be too cruel." You shudder as her breath brushes your face, her dark eyes glimmering against the light of the lamp. She is so close to you that you can feel the press of her thighs where she sits on the bed and you are suddenly torn by the need to push away the quilt and draw it tighter around you. She exhales deeply, her fingers trailing against your cheek. "I am grateful that you are safe, $name." [[Next.|chp7_25B5_A]] <<elseif $chp7_25B3 is 5>> "Lose me?" you ask, your tone filling with gentle mirth. "Do not be so dire, Your Majesty. I would never leave your side unless you commanded it so." The lilt in your voice draws Queen Elora's dark eyes to you and for a moment, she only stares, her cheeks reddening under your gaze. You raise an eyebrow at her, drinking in the way her lips part but release no sound. A slow smirk tugs at your lips and the sight of it seems to drag Queen Elora out of her stupor for she suddenly draws closer to you. "And what else would you do if I commanded it?" she asks, her voice a whisper. You take in her features, the softness of her mouth and the shape of eyes. She is beautiful, despite the tiredness and rumpled attire she wears. You have seen her at her best and you have also seen her dressed in plain clothes, parading around as a commoner when she spent the day with you and Zikar. A warmth tugs at your chest and the teasing in your smile falters, making it hard for you to look away from Queen Elora. "I would do anything you asked," you breathe. Her eyes flicker with surprise and she tilts her head, the amusement now gone. You are uncertain how the flirtation you started devolved into something deeper, coiling in your stomach with unbidden want and desire. Queen Elora lets out an unsteady breath, the brush of warmth sending a shudder down your spine. Curling your fingers around her chin, you tilt her face towards yours, enjoying the way her breathing quickens and her fingers press into your shoulders. Her mouth parts but she does not speak and for a moment, neither of you speak. It is hard to look away, to ignore the heat that curls between you, settling you alight from within. "Do not make such hasty promises, $name," Queen Elora murmurs. "It sounds dangerously close to a confession." [[Next.|chp7_25B5_A]] <</if>>

The conversation lulls and you sigh, leaning back against the pillows of the bed. Queen Elora glances around the room, the silence growing until you have little left to say. Weariness begins to pull at your limbs once more and the dull ache you tried to ignore, presses painfully against your skull. Queen Elora opens her mouth to speak, but her words are stolen by the door being opened. You both turn towards the sound and you find an elderly woman, wearing loose robes that deign her as a healer of some sort. She smiles when she catches sight of you before turning towards Queen Elora. "I trust you are satisfied now that you have seen $name for yourself?" the woman asks. Queen Elora nods. "Yes, thank you for allowing me to see $name, Summu." The healer, Summu bows her head slightly. "I could not deny Your Majesty. But I am afraid $name needs to rest and the hour grows late." "Of course," Queen Elora responds, standing. She glances at you, a gentle look in her eyes. "I will speak to you soon, $name." Queen Elora steps out of the room and when she is gone, Summu makes her way to where you lie. There is a fond look on her face and a trace of a smile on her lips. "Her Majesty is kinder than most rulers tend to be," she breathes. "You are lucky to have such a friend, $name." She moves to sit beside you, brushing her fingers against your forehead. Her skin is cool against your skin and she murmurs under her breath as she examines your eyes for an uncomfortably long time. "How are you feeling?" she asks. <<set $chp7_25_ALT1 to 0>> [["Tired," you admit, sagging against the bed.|chp7_25_ALT2][$chp7_25_ALT1 +=1]] [["I feel better," you reply, stretching your arms.|chp7_25_ALT2][$chp7_25_ALT1 +=2]] <<if $chp7_burn is true>> [["It is just my hand that hurts," you respond, glancing at your bandaged palm.|chp7_25_ALT2][$chp7_25_ALT1 +=3]]<</if>>

The air thickens with an unseen heat, swallowing your breath and leaving you desperate for this moment to last for eternity. She gazes at you, her breathing sharp and her eyes soft as they trace over your face before settling against the shape of your mouth. You suppress a shiver, your stomach writhing as you try and fail to think of something to say. <<if $irus_lock is true>> "I... I should go," Queen Elora breathes. "It would not be right if anything more happened." You frown but she waves away the beginnings of your protest with a remorseful smile. Her eyes shift towards her hands and you catch the way that they tug at the quilt. You reach out, placing your palm over them and Queen Elora lets out a breath, turning to meet your gaze. "I cannot hurt Iri, $name," she explains. "And I do not wish to hurt you either. This is as far as we go." Whatever else she has to say is interrupted when an elderly woman wearing robes that mark her as a healer, enters the room. She glances at you and then at Queen Elora before shaking her head. "It is late Your Majesty," the woman explains. "I am afraid that you will need to leave $name to $MChis rest." Queen Elora stands, not looking at you as she speaks. "Of course, Summu. Thank you for letting me visit $name." Queen Elora steps out of the room and when she is gone, Summu makes her way to where you lie. There is a fond look on her face and a trace of a smile on her lips. "Her Majesty is kinder than most rulers tend to be," she breathes. "You are lucky to have such a friend, $name." She moves to sit beside you, brushing her fingers against your forehead. Her skin is cool against your skin and she murmurs under her breath as she examines your eyes for an uncomfortably long time. "How are you feeling?" she asks. <<set $chp7_25_ALT1 to 0>> [["Tired," you admit, sagging against the bed.|chp7_25_ALT2][$chp7_25_ALT1 +=1]] [["I feel better," you reply, stretching your arms.|chp7_25_ALT2][$chp7_25_ALT1 +=2]] <<if $chp7_burn is true>> [["It is just my hand that hurts," you respond, glancing at your bandaged palm.|chp7_25_ALT2][$chp7_25_ALT1 +=3]]<</if>> <<else>> "I... I have been thinking, $name," Queen Elora murmurs, breaking the silence. You raise your eyes to meet hers as she leans against the bed, her face hovering above yours. There is a longing in her eyes, gentle and warm that speaks of something more than desire. It is affection, you realise as she takes your fingers in her grasp.<<if $chp7_burn is true>> She frowns, noting your bandaged palm and runs her thumb over your knuckles.<<else>> She leans down, kissing your knuckles softly.<</if>> "You were... I almost lost you today," she explains. "And the thought of losing you made me realise that I do not want to spend another day, not knowing how you feel about me." "Your Majesty-" "Call me Elora," she interrupts, smoothing her fingers over your face. Her name sounds like a prayer when it leaves your lips and you shiver, suddenly aware of her eyes on you and the smile that pulls at her lips. "What do you mean?" you ask. She swallows, looking down. "I have feelings for you that goes beyond simple flirtation, $name. I... I wish to know if you feel the same about me. I... I want to court you, properly." You stare at her wide-eyed and respond... <<set $chp7_25B5_A to 0>> [["I feel the same about you," you breathe.|chp7_25B5_A1_query][$elora_lock to true, $chp7_25B5_A +=1, $relationship to true]] [["I want to court you too," you reply, thrumming with excitement.|chp7_25B5_A1_query][$chp7_25B5_A +=2, $elora_lock to true, $relationship to true]] [["I... I just want to remain friends," you answer, shaking your head.|chp7_25B5_A1_query][$chp7_25B5_A +=3]] <</if>>

<<if $chp7_25B5_A is 1>> "I feel the same about you," you breathe. The admission leaves your lips in a breathless whisper, as though all those months of stolen glances and gentle touches have left you desperate for air. Queen Elora stares at you for a moment before her eyes grow wide and she draws you close, her joy felt in the way that her fingers caress your face. "I... I am so pleased, $name," she murmurs. "I had hoped that you felt the same but I never imagined you would." You stare at her, warming under her gaze and return her smile. "I have felt this way for some time now, Elora." Her eyes darken and she stares at you with a look that threatens to consume you. You swallow, but you meet her eyes, unwilling to turn away even for a moment. She brings her face closer and presses her forehead against yours, her breaths warming your skin with their heat. "Tell me what you want, $name," she speaks. "I will give you whatever it is that you seek from this courtship." <<set $chp7_el_courtship to 0>> [["I want everything," you whisper. "All of it - all of you."|chp7_25B5_A2][$chp7_el_courtship +=1]] [["I only want this and nothing more," you breathe. "I am content simply to be in your presence without the physical intimacy that comes with courting."|chp7_25B5_A2][$chp7_el_courtship +=2]] <<elseif $chp7_25B5_A is 2>> "I want to court you too," you reply, thrumming with excitement. You cannot stop the quickening of your heartbeat as you smile widely at Queen Elora. She gazes at you, blinking in surprise before she draws you closer, her arms warm around your shoulders. You breathe in her floral scent, enjoying the way that her hair tickles against your ear and tighten your arms around her slender waist. "I am so pleased," she breathes, pulling away to smile at you. "I did not think you would have felt the same. I am happy to be proven wrong." You smile, gripping her face in your palm. "I have felt like this for a while now, Elora." She shivers as your lips form around her name and her eyes lower to take in the sight of your mouth. "Tell me what you want, $name," she speaks. "I will give you whatever it is that you seek from this courtship." <<set $chp7_el_courtship to 0>> [["I want everything," you whisper. "All of it - all of you."|chp7_25B5_A2][$chp7_el_courtship +=1]] [["I only want this and nothing more," you breathe. "I am content simply to be in your presence without the physical intimacy that comes with courting."|chp7_25B5_A2][$chp7_el_courtship +=2]] <<elseif $chp7_25B5_A is 3>> "I... I just want to remain friends," you answer, shaking your head. Though you have engaged in flirting with Queen Elora in the past, you realise now that as you take in her appearance that you simply wish to remain friends. You have come to rely upon her when you are in need and complicating your relationship with romance and courtship is something you would rather avoid. Queen Elora nods in response, her smile easing until it is no longer as wide as it had been. Despite your rebuttal, Queen Elora does not look upon you any less warmly, though you note that the affection in her eyes has dimmed slightly. "I understand, $name," she explains. "I cannot fault you for feeling that way. We shall remain friends then." She draws away from you and as she does, the door opens to reveal an elderly woman. You are grateful for the distraction from the conversation you have just had with Queen Elora. The woman steps inside the room, wearing robes that signal her as being a healer. I trust you are satisfied now that you have seen $name for yourself?" the woman asks. Queen Elora nods. "Yes, thank you for allowing me to see $name, Summu." The healer, Summu bows her head slightly. "I could not deny Your Majesty. But I am afraid $name needs to rest and the hour grows late." "Of course," Queen Elora responds, standing. She glances at you, a gentle look in her eyes. "I will speak to you soon, $name." Queen Elora steps out of the room and when she is gone, Summu makes her way to where you lie. There is a fond look on her face and a trace of a smile on her lips. She moves to sit beside you, brushing her fingers against your forehead. Her skin is cool against your skin and she murmurs under her breath as she examines your eyes for an uncomfortably long time. "How are you feeling?" she asks. <<set $chp7_25_ALT1 to 0>> [["Tired," you admit, sagging against the bed.|chp7_25_ALT2][$chp7_25_ALT1 +=1]] [["I feel better," you reply, stretching your arms.|chp7_25_ALT2][$chp7_25_ALT1 +=2]] <<if $chp7_burn is true>> [["It is just my hand that hurts," you respond, glancing at your bandaged palm.|chp7_25_ALT2][$chp7_25_ALT1 +=3]]<</if>> <</if>>

<<if $chp7_el_courtship is 1>> "I want everything," you whisper. "All of it - all of you." Queen Elora's gaze slips over your face and suddenly, you cannot breathe for the intensity of her eyes sends a thrill of longing through you. It tightens and tugs until you are desperate to feel the heat of her skin against yours. She draws closer, her breath warm on your face and her nose brushing against yours as breathes in. "Then that is what I shall give," she breathes. Her lips angle towards yours and you turn, desperate to remove all space between you. She kisses you softly, her voice leaving her in a breathless whimper when you grip her chin between your fingers. The kiss is languid thing, neither of you in any hurry as you explore each other's mouths in the afterglow of your confessions. Soon, the heat builds until the gentle pecks and light touches is not enough. A keening sound rumbles in your throat and Queen Elora pulls away, her eyes alight with fondness. Her fingers brush against your cheeks, her grip gentle as she leans towards you, parting your lips with her tongue. The kiss becomes deeper with each second and you moan when you feel the delicate scrape of her tongue against yours. Queen Elora pulls away first, her chest heaving as she struggles for breath. "We should stop." You blink. "What? Why?" She grins at you. "You are still hurt, $name. It would be best to let you sleep." <<elseif $chp7_el_courtship is 2>> "I only want this and nothing more," you breathe. "I am content simply to be in your presence without the physical intimacy that comes with courting." You stare at Queen Elora, noting the flush in her cheeks and the gentle way her fingers trace your wrists. She is enough and you realise that this is enough between you. The thought consumes you with warmth and your chest surges with the gentle caress of affection as she leans closer, drawing you into a tight embrace. Her words tickle against your ear, gentle and soft. "Then you will have me like this." A sigh escapes you and you bury your face into the crook of her neck, enjoying the heat of her slender form and the way that her touch sends shivers down your spine. You turn to stare at her and find that there is a wide smile on her lips as she turns to meet your gaze. "You are not upset with my decision?" you question. A soft look flickers through her dark eyes and she shakes her head. "I want you, $name, and that is all that matters to me. I will take you in any form that you give." She nuzzles your cheek, stealing a soft breath from your lips. When she meets your eyes again, you see the deep well of affection in them and you know that she is sincere in her words and the knowledge is enough to make you smile at her, suddenly giddy to be held by her gentle embrace. All too soon, Queen Elora draws away from you and you frown. "What is the matter?" She smiles, chuckling. "You are still hurt, $name. It would be best to let you sleep." <</if>> Her words seem to awaken the fatigue and dull throbbing that gripped you earlier. A yawn threatens to escape your lips and you frown, suddenly upset that you will be parted from Queen Elora. She notices your gaze and laughs, drawing closer to press a delicate kiss against the top of your head. "Sleep well, my dear heart," she breathes. "I will speak to you soon." She leaves you then to bask in the thoughts of what has transpired and despite the pain that grips your limbs, you find yourself drifting to sleep with a smile on your face. [[Next.|chp7_26]]

<center><<if $elora_lock is true>>Choosing to pursue a romance with Queen Elora now means that you will be locked out of romancing any other romance options. You will still be able to flirt with the other characters, but you will not be able to pursue a relationship with them. Are you sure that you want to proceed? [[Yes, I am sure. I want to pursue Queen Elora.|chp7_25B5_A1]] <<return "Actually, I want to make a different choice.">><<elseif $elora_lock is false>>Choosing to end your romance with Queen Elora now means that you will no longer get any flirt or romance options with her in the future. You will be locked out of her romance route for the rest of the game. Are you sure that you want to proceed? [[Yes, I am sure. I want to end my romance with Queen Elora.|chp7_25B5_A1]] <<return "Actually, I want to make a different choice.">><</if>></center>

<<if $chp7_25C is 1>> "No, Sir Oren can stay," you say, glancing at your mother with a frown. $mama turns to look at you with wide eyes and your frown deepens. Is she truly going to make decisions on your behalf the way she has been doing for most of your life? Hurt flickers through your mother's dark eyes and she lets out a shaky breath but you turn away, unwilling to let her change your mind. "I... I only want what is best for you, $name," she murmurs. She glances at Sir Oren, sighing. "But if this is what you want then I will leave you both." <<elseif $chp7_25C is 2>> "I do not need you to make decisions for me," you snap at your mother. The anger your mother drags out from you is sharp and burns in the back of your throat. You narrow your eyes at her, feeling the tension in your jaw as your teeth grind against each other. $mama looks at you, her eyebrows furrowed and her gaze filled with hurt. You glare at her, unwilling to feel anything but irritation at her actions. "I..." she stammers, before pausing. Her eyes take in Sir Oren before returning to you. "I did not... If you want the Captain here then I will leave you both." <<elseif $chp7_25C is 3>> "You do not know what is best for me," you hiss, glaring at your mother. "Sir Oren will stay." Rage like the heat of a boiling pot, spits and hisses beneath your skin. You glower at your mother, incredulous at her actions. It would seem that no matter how far you have come, your mother will never see you as anything more than a child who knows no better. Your mother gazes at you, frowning when she catches the anger in your expression. "I... If that is what you want then I will not stop him from staying," your mother breathes. She glances at Sir Oren before her eyes return to you. "I will leave you then." <<elseif $chp7_25C is 4>> "Sir Oren is important to me," you breathe. "I want him to stay." Your eyes shift to meet Sir Oren's and he smiles at your words, the sight of it warming his expression until you are unable to tear your eyes away. He moves closer, as though hesitant under your mother's watchful gaze but something in your face must encourage him because he is suddenly at your side. Your mother sighs and the sound pulls your attention away from Sir Oren. "I see," $mama murmurs. "Then perhaps I shall leave you both." <</if>> Your mother turns, making her way out of the room. Before she can disappear from view, she pauses to look at you, her expression unreadable in the dimness of the room. She leaves before you can make sense of the look, though the thoughts of your mother soon leaves your mind when you turn to look at Sir Oren. He draws a nearby stool and settles against the wood, perched on its edge as though poised for any signs of danger. As you gaze at him, taking in his tired expression and the way his fingers tap against his knee, you realise that there is an underlying tension in the way that he holds himself. <<set $chp7_25C1 to 0>> [["Are you well?" you ask, curious about what could be bothering him.|chp7_25C2][$chp7_25C1 +=1]] [["You seem nervous," you comment, frowning.|chp7_25C2][$chp7_25C1 +=2]] [["I am sorry if my mother made you uncomfortable," you murmur.|chp7_25C2][$chp7_25C1 +=3]] <<if $salyraRel gte 65>>[["I had hoped that my mother would have been more accepting of you than she was," you sigh.|chp7_25C2][$chp7_25C1 +=4]]<</if>>

<<if $chp7_25C1 is 1>> "Are you well?" you ask, curious about what could be bothering him. Sir Oren stiffens, glancing at you with wide eyes. You frown, your eyebrows pressing against your eyes as you gaze at him. Since your return from Sangasu, you have not spoken much to Sir Oren. The Nomad prisoners who had evaded capture had stolen much of the Captain's time and you wonder idly if that is what has him so worried. "I..." Sir Oren breathes, before shaking his head. "I should be asking you that, $name. You are hurt. Do not worry yourself over me." You frown. "I asked you because I wanted to know, Sir Oren. What is the matter?" He looks away from your gaze, running his hand over the dark beard that covers his face. For a moment, you think that he will ignore your question. In the time that you have known Sir Oren, it has become evident that he chooses to neglect his own well-being in favour of worrying about those around him. "I... thank you for caring about me, $name," he breathes. "But I am not ready to talk about it just yet. Perhaps, when you are feeling better, we can discuss what has been on my mind?" There is a gentleness in his face, but the resolute manner of his words tells you that no matter what you say, Sir Oren will not speak about what has been tugging at his thoughts. Instead, you offer him a small smile and nod. <<elseif $chp7_25C1 is 2>> "You seem nervous," you comment, frowning. Sir Oren tenses, his hazel eyes searching the room as though expecting someone to strike out at hom at any moment. Your frown deepens and you cannot deny that the anxiousness in the Captain's posture causes a thread of concern to pull at your mind. When Sir Oren finally looks at you, you become aware that his fingers are pressed tightly against his knees. "I am sorry," he apologises. "I did not mean to cause you further worry." You shake your head at him, your eyes searching his face. When was the last time he had a full night's of sleep, you wonder? He looks tireder than usual, his shoulders tight against his neck and his beard not nearly as neat as it used to be. "It is alright," you reply. "But there is no danger here, Sir Oren. You do not need to be so tense." "It is not that," he explains, before hesitating. "I... it is nothing, $name. You are hurt and I do not wish to burden you with my thoughts, not tonight." You open your mouth to protest, but the hollow look on Sir Oren's face stops your words on your tongue. Instead, you nod, accepting that whatever eats at his thoughts is something that he does not wish to discuss. <<elseif $chp7_25C1 is 3>> "I am sorry if my mother made you uncomfortable," you murmur. You turn to stare at your hands, frowning at the thought. $mama does not seem to appreciate your companions or perhaps, it is simply because they do not look at her with the same reverence as those in Ishari that has left her cold towards them? "I..." Sir Oren says, pausing for a moment. "I do not hold your mother's actions against her, $name. She is only doing what she thinks is best." You grow quiet, uncertain how to respond to Sir Oren's words.<<if $salryaRel gte 50>> Your relationship with your mother is not nearly as strained as you thought it would be after learning about her past, but you cannot deny that it still bothers you that she has not warmed to Sir Oren the way you hoped.<<else>> Your relationship with $mama is strained and taut, as thought at any moment the bond between you will snap apart, severing whatever remains between you. As you gaze at Sir Oren, you wonder if all your mother sees is a man who knows you better as the $gender you have become?<</if>> "Please do not worry yourself over me, $name," Sir Oren murmurs. He smiles, a small pull of his lips that fills his eyes with warmth. "I am alright." You nod, accepting his words though you note the slight strain in his voice and the way his shoulder still tense at his neck. There is something that bothers him but whatever it might be, Sir Oren is not willing to discuss it tonight. <<elseif $chp7_25C1 is 4>> "I had hoped that my mother would have been more accepting of you than she was," you sigh. Your relationship with $mama has become warmer in the days that you have spent in Ishari. As the tension of not knowing each other eased, you had thought that she would have made a greater effort to know those who have been with you in the months since the start of your journey. Yet, $mama has kept her distance from them, perhaps in distrust or perhaps it is simply because she does not approve of them. Sir Oren glances at you and for a moment, some of the tautness in his shoulders eases, his expression filling with thoughtfulness instead of worry. You meet his hazel eyes and you watch as his lips pull slightly upwards. <<if $orenRom gte 65 and $irus_lock is false>> "These things take time, $name," Sir Oren explains, pressing his hand over yours. "Your mother is only cautious about the people you have chosen to place your trust in." <<else>> "Give it some time, $name," Sir Oren replies. He offers you a soft smile. "I am certain that in time, your mother will come to see that we are not nearly as bad as she might think we are." <</if>> You nod in response, the thoughts easing slightly as you meet Sir Oren's kind expression. Perhaps if $mama could see him like this, she would realise why you have come to depend on Sir Oren this much. <</if>> [[Next.|chp7_25C3]]

As you lean against the soft pillows, basking in the warmth of the heavy quilts, you find Sir Oren turning to gaze at you in concern. He reaches out, tugging the quilt higher when it slips down and his frown deepens when his eyes meet yours. You stare at him for a moment, watching as remorse and hurt flash through his eyes the sight of it tugs at your chest. "When I heard what happened to you, I was so worried, $name," he breathes. "I... you are dear to me and I blame myself for not being there when you needed help." <<set $chp7_25C3 to 0>> [["You are kind to care about me," you respond. "But you are here now and that is all that matters to me."|chp7_25C4][$chp7_25C3 +=1, $orenRel +=5]] [["I..." you mumble, touched by his concern. "Do not burden yourself just for me."|chp7_25C4][$chp7_25C3 +=2, $orenRel +=5]] [["I do not need you to worry about me," you huff, rankled by his worry for you.|chp7_25C4][$chp7_25C3 +=3, $orenRel -=5]] [[♡"Thank you for worrying," you breathe, flushing under his gaze.|chp7_25C4_A][$chp7_25C3 +=4, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5, $shy_oren +=5]] [[♡"Careful, Captain," you murmur, smirking at him. "I might hurt myself more if this is how you respond."|chp7_25C4_A][$chp7_25C3 +=5, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5, $bold_oren +=5]]

<<if $chp7_25C3 is 1>> "You are kind to care about me," you respond. "But you are here now and that is all that matters to me." The words are soft but no less true as they leave your lips. You gaze up at where he sits, smiling as you meet his hazel eyes. Sir Oren returns your smile easily, the warmth in his gaze visible as he regards you so steadily that it sends a surge of affection through your chest. Sir Oren has been a steady companion, always there when you needed him and ever willing to lend his aid. You are uncertain what you did to deserve such loyalty from the Captain, his kindness a sharp contrast to the way you had been treated in Salt Bay. "I... you are right," Sir Oren murmurs. "My Adda would say that I worry too much like a mother hen." You chuckle. "I think he is right. You do fret like a mother hen." Sir Oren gazes at you, his eyes filling with mirth but beneath the amusement is a gentleness that steals your breath. There is more than easy banter between you and you realise that in the weeks that you have known Sir Oren, you have come to rely on him like a friends do and you smile at the thought. "I do not mind," he breathes. "You are important to me, $name. I want to help you, no matter what may come." <<elseif $chp7_25C3 is 2>> "I..." you mumble, touched by his concern. "Do not burden yourself just for me." The words feel heavy and sluggish as you speak, your voice losing strength and you turn away to stare down at your fingers. Sir Oren seems to care for you deeply and that is a thought that still leaves you breathless and confused from the oddness of it. Your life in Salt Bay made it difficult to know what friendship felt like, yet, you know that it is what Sir Oren has given you without hesitation. He gazes at you, his eyes softening at your words and he leans closer, his voice lowering as though you are a frightened animal. "Burden? $name, you are anything but a burden," Sir Oren breathes, his voice unwavering. "I care about you because I want to not because it is a duty." You swallow, turning to meet his gaze and feel heat spread through you. It is warm, a blanket of gentle assurance that fills the ache in your chest that remained hollow for as long as you can remember. Sir Oren's lips pull into a smile, the sight of it filling his hazel eyes with affection and you struggle to meet his gaze without flinching. No one has ever looked at you so sincerely before. "Thank you," you whisper. Sir Oren smiles wider. "Of course. I will always care about you, $name." <<elseif $chp7_25C3 is 3>> "I do not need you to worry about me," you huff, rankled by his worry for you. Irritation spills from your lips, your voice tinged with a sharpness that draws a frown from Sir Oren. His eyes widen in surprise and he draws back from you, as though uncertain whether to be hurt or upset by your words. You look away from his peering gaze, your anger and frustration building inside you. There is something condescending in the way that Sir Oren frets over you, as though you are a child that needs to be taken care of. For years, you were alone. You were capabale then and you are no less capable now. Yet, Sir Oren seems intent on fussing over you and that only serves to draw out your ire. "I know," Sir Oren breathes, his eyes downcast. "But that does not stop me from worrying, $name." "I am not in need of saving," you spit. "I am capable on my //own//." Sir Oren opens his mouth before closing it, his forehead creasing at your response. "There is no weakness in accepting kindness from others, $name. I hope you come to see that." His words render you silent and you turn away, unable to make out your feelings over the rush of blood through your ears. You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry and your fingers tighten around the quilt, as an uneasy feeling fills your chest. <</if>> [[Next.|chp7_25C5]]

<<if $chp7_25C3 is 4>> "Thank you for worrying," you breathe, flushing under his gaze. You are surprised that Sir Oren hears your response over the thudding of your heartbeat. It thrums beneath your chest, deafening as you try and fail to swallow a full breath. His eyes soften and slowly, gently, he moves closer to the bed so that his elbows rest against the quilt. His heat is like a roaring fire during a storm, warm and crackling with life. You shiver despite the warmth or perhaps, it has nothing to do with the temperature of your skin. Sir Oren is gentle when he reaches out to thread his fingers through yours, his smile<<if $chp7_burn is true>> faltering when his gaze moves to rest on the thick bandage wrapped against your palm.<<else>> softening when he takes in your prone form.<</if>> "You do not need to thank me, $name," he murmurs. "I care about you deeply." His words are unwavering, a deep sound that pierces the air with its steady tone. You swallow, your tongue sticking against the roof of your mouth and suddenly, you cannot breathe. It hurts your chest and your skin blazes with heat that only grows when Sir Oren's hazel eyes shift to meet yours. "I..." you mumble, flushing under his intense gaze. Sir Oren smiles and your ears grow loud with the rush of blood that passes through your veins. It is hard to stare at him, noting the affection in his eyes and yet, you cannot drag your eyes away, wanting to bask in the heat of his gaze for eternity. <<elseif $chp7_25C3 is 5>> "Careful, Captain," you murmur, smirking at him. "I might hurt myself more if this is how you respond." Your smirk widens when you note the heat that creeps along Sir Oren's neck, staining his cheeks a deep red. It is easy to elict the Captain's shyness, a sharp contrast to the steady control he wields over his guards. Despite his flushed face, Sir Oren meets your gaze and your smirk softens when you note the sincerity in his hazel eyes. "Please, do not jest about something like that," he breathes. "I... I do not think I would be able to rest if that were true." The smirk on your lips falters and you turn to stare at him with surprise. There is nothing shy about Sir Oren now, not when he looks at you with such longing that it draws out your heartbeat in an unsteady rhythm. You swallow, reaching out to stroke his face. <<if $chp7_burn is true>> You wince, a hiss leaving your mouth when you realise that you have pulled at the wound against your palm. Sir Oren's eyebrows furrow in worry and he suddenly cradles your injured hand between his, stroking his fingers along your knuckles. <<else>> His beard prickles against your palm and you hear his sharp intake of breath as your eyes slip to meet his. You smile, feeling heat surging through you as you gaze at him, smoothing your fingers around his face and Sir Oren leans against your touch.<</if>> <</if>> [[Next.|chp7_25C4_A1]]

The conversation lulls and for a moment, you are surrounded by the quiet of the room, interrupted by Sir Oren's deep breaths. You turn to face him and find that he is looking at you, once more concerned in his inspection of you. As though summoning memories of your earlier collapse, a dull throb begins to press behind your eyes. "Your mother was right," Sir Oren breathes. "You do need to rest, $name." You open your mouth to protest, but the words do not make it past your lips as the door to the room is pushed open. An elderly woman, wearing the robes that mark her as a healer, steps into the room. She glances at you, smiling when she sees you sitting up before turning her attention to Sir Oren. "I see that you are still here, Captain," the woman says. "But the hour grows late and I am afraid I will have to ask you to let $name get some rest." Sir Oren nods, smiling. "Of course, Summu. Thank you for allowing me to visit $name." She chuckles, reacching to pinch Sir Oren's cheek despite her small stature. "Such a polite boy. Now go on, it is late and I have to check on $name." Sir Oren glances at you, smiling, before he turns to leave. The healer, Summu, steps towards where you lie on the bed and glances at you with a gentle expression before she brushes her fingers against your forehead. Her skin is cool against your skin and she murmurs under her breath as she examines your eyes for an uncomfortably long time. "How are you feeling?" she asks. <<set $chp7_25_ALT1 to 0>> [["Tired," you admit, sagging against the bed.|chp7_25_ALT2][$chp7_25_ALT1 +=1]] [["I feel better," you reply, stretching your arms.|chp7_25_ALT2][$chp7_25_ALT1 +=2]] <<if $chp7_burn is true>> [["It is just my hand that hurts," you respond, glancing at your bandaged palm.|chp7_25_ALT2][$chp7_25_ALT1 +=3]]<</if>>

<<if $irus_lock is true>>For a moment, neither of you look away from each other but then, Sir Oren draws back from your touch, his lips tugging into a frown. You gaze at him, your eyebrows furrowing as you try to make sense of his sudden reluctance but Sir Oren only shakes his head, casting you a gentle smile. "I should leave you to rest, $name," he murmurs. "I know His Highness has been worried about you too and it... it would be wrong for me to remain at your side when he has yet to see you." The mention of Prince Irus makes everything clearer and you stiffen, thinking about Prince Irus. Sir Oren smiles once more before he stands, moving towards the door to the room. But before he can leave, the door pushes open to reveal an elderly woman dressed in loose robes that mark her as a healer. "I see that you are still here, Captain," the woman says. "But the hour grows late and I am afraid I will have to ask you to let $name get some rest." Sir Oren nods at her, clearing his throat. "Of course, Summu. Thank you for allowing me to visit $name." She chuckles, reacching to pinch Sir Oren's cheek despite her small stature. "Such a polite boy. Now go on, it is late and I have to check on $name." Sir Oren glances at you, his smile smaller than before and he turns to leave. The healer, Summu, steps towards where you lie on the bed and glances at you with a gentle expression before she brushes her fingers against your forehead. Her skin is cool against your skin and she murmurs under her breath as she examines your eyes for an uncomfortably long time. "How are you feeling?" she asks. <<set $chp7_25_ALT1 to 0>> [["Tired," you admit, sagging against the bed.|chp7_25_ALT2][$chp7_25_ALT1 +=1]] [["I feel better," you reply, stretching your arms.|chp7_25_ALT2][$chp7_25_ALT1 +=2]] <<if $chp7_burn is true>> [["It is just my hand that hurts," you respond, glancing at your bandaged palm.|chp7_25_ALT2][$chp7_25_ALT1 +=3]]<</if>> <<else>> You are not know what changes but something in the air between you tugs and pulls until your breathing grows faster and your skin tingles with warmth. Sir Oren peers at you, his hazel eyes like a gentle caress as his eyes sweep over you. You shiver under his gaze, feeling his heat graze over your skin, drawing you closer still. "$name," he breathes and your name sounds like a plea, reverent and filled with longing. <<set $chp7_25C4_A1 to 0>> [[You shudder as Sir Oren draws you into a gentle embrace.|chp7_25C4_A2][$chp7_25C4_A1 +=1, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5]] [[You tug Sir Oren closer, enjoying his breath against your neck as you hold him close.|chp7_25C4_A2][$chp7_25C4_A1 +=2, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5]] [[Your face heats as Sir Oren's mouth slips over yours.|chp7_25C4_A2][$chp7_25C4_A1 +=3, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5]] [[You drag Sir Oren close, capturing his mouth in a desperate kiss.|chp7_25C4_A2][$chp7_25C4_A1 +=4, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5]]<</if>>

<<if $chp7_25C4_A1 is 1>> You shudder as Sir Oren draws you into a gentle embrace. His heat envelops you, a cocoon of warmth and comfort as you sigh against him. Your fingers grip at his sides, feeling the solidness of his muscles against your arms. There is a strength in Sir Oren that makes you feel safe and it is that thought that causes you to bury your face into the crook of his neck. Sir Oren holds you close, despite the uncomfortable position he must be in, half-sitting on the stool and half-leaning against you. You shiver as his fingers trace slow patterns along the nape of your neck, the pads of his fingers rough and calloused against your skin and yet, it does nothing but elicit a sharp gasp from you. He draws away, a look of panic in his eyes. "Did I hurt you? Perhaps-" "No," you blurt. "I... I want this." Sir Oren searches your face, hesitating but something in your expression must change his mind because he pulls you back. His arms encircle you, drawing you flush against his broad chest and you take comfort in the scent of him, something smoky and deep. He breathes out softly, his exhale tickling the top of your head and your eyes droop lower, nearly closing against him. <<elseif $chp7_25C4_A1 is 2>> You tug Sir Oren closer, enjoying his breath against your neck as you hold him close. It is an odd position to be in, yet, you grip Sir Oren tighter against you, enjoying the heat of his skin and the solidness of his broad chest. Holding Sir Oren close, you turn, tilting your head to the side as you gaze at his flushed face. His eyes are already on you, tracing your features as his fingers slip around your waist. There is something deeply comforting in being in his embrace. His touch sends a steady heat through you, pulsing and consuming as you sigh, your lips pulling into a lazy smile. Sir Oren's hazel eyes drops lower to your lips and you shudder when you notice his expression warming, his own mouth mirroring your smile. "I am grateful that you are well," Sir Oren murmurs. He turns to look at you steadily. "I would go to the ends of the realms to make certain that you were safe, $name." His words sound like a confession and you shiver, despite his warmth. Something like concern flickers through Sir Oren's gaze and he begins to pull away, frowning. "Are you alright? Perhaps I should let you rest-" "No," you breathe, drawing him back. "Just stay here for a while. Please." <<elseif $chp7_25C4_A1 is 3>> Your face heats as Sir Oren's mouth slips over yours. It is a gentle brush of lips, a chaste peck that ends before it has even started. You stare up at Sir Oren, his face hovering over where you still lie against the pillows and bed. Heat simmers beneath your skin and you swallow, unable to voice the desperation you feel. Sir Oren's hazel eyes darken with unspoken want and then, he is leaning towards you once more. His fingers are gentle as they slip over your neck, his touch searing as his palms slip over to cup your chin in his hold. He keeps you steady and you can do nothing but stare as he lowers his mouth to yours once more. The kiss is soft, delicate as though Sir Oren is afraid that anything more will hurt you. Your fingers wrap around his solid shoulders, tugging him closer, urging him for more and Sir Oren listens. Suddenly, he is kissing you with a hunger than takes you by surprise. His mouth moves against yours, his beard scratching at your cheeks and lips but you do not care. Your eyes flutter shut when his tongue darts out, seeking entrance and you oblige him, whimpering when you feel his tongue scrape against yours in a torturously slow dance. "Oren," you gasp against his mouth, wanting more. He draws away at your breathless voice, his chest heaving as he presses his forehead against yours. You look up, meeting his hazel eyes and find that they are filled with warmth and unhidden affection. The intensity of his gaze leaves you flustered and you find that you cannot look away from it. <<elseif $chp7_25C4_A1 is 4>> You drag Sir Oren close, capturing his mouth in a desperate kiss. It is difficult to restrain yourself when Sir Oren whimpers against your mouth, his weight sagging against you pleasantly when he accepts your devouring kiss. You hold his face close, enjoying the way his fingers tighten against your waist, drawing you closer to him as the kiss deepens. Sir Oren gasps against the press of your tongue and you take your time as you begin to taste his lips, moving briefly to kiss down his tickling beard to press your mouth against the sensitive skin against his throat. His pulse quickens under your lips and a soft breath escapes you, feeling the searing heat of his skin against yours. "$name," he breathes, his voice shaky when your teeth nip at his skin. You feel his shudder and you quickly move to steal his mouth once more. This time, his lips part instantly against yours and you press forward, kissing him hungrily. Sir Oren clings to you tightly, his fingers pressing into your tunic where they grip you. Slowly, you begin yor exploration of his mouth, shivering when your tongues meet. The kiss is slow, the heat mounting between your pressed bodies and hungry touches. A low sound, not quite a groan but neither a whimper, escapes Sir Oren and you draw away, swallowing a breath. You stare at him, taking in the redness of his lips and the way his eyes darken when they meet yours. <</if>> "We... You need to rest, $name," he murmurs. His words seem to draw out your exhaustion and you sigh, feeling the heaviness return to your limbs. Sir Oren smiles gently at you and despite wanting him to remain at your side, you know that it would be too selfish to ask him to stay with you until you fall asleep. "I hate that you are right," you sigh. He chuckles, easing you back against the pillows before he leans over you, kissing your forehead softly. "Sleep well, $name." You watch as he turns to leave, casting you a warm smile before he leaves you to bask in the surge of affection that fills you. As you settle into the bed, your eyes finding the white stone of the ceiling, you find that sleep eludes you when your thoughts swirl with the image of Sir Oren. [[Next.|chp7_26]]

<<if $chp7_25D is 1>> "Let Anu stay," you respond, frowning at your mother. "This is not her fault." Your mother's eyes fill with anger and she whirls around to face you, a frown pulling at the corner of her mouth. She stares at you as if you have lost your senses but you meet her gaze, your frown deepening. You do not blame Anu for what happened to you earlier but it is evident from your mother's glower that she does. "This is her fault, $name," $mama breathes. "She should not have let you near Atses' Heart." "I want her to stay," you reply, your voice hard. $mama stares at you, her eyebrows furrowed before she glances at Anu, scowling as she does. "Very well. I will not deny you, $name." <<elseif $chp7_25D is 2>> "I do not need you to start protecting me now," you snap. "Anu is here for me, not you." Your anger tastes bitter with rage as the words spill out your mouth. $mama frowns, glancing at you in surprise before she stares at Anu. There is a hardness in $mama's glare as she regards the young priestess, but whatever she sees only seems to worsen her ire. "She is the reason for you getting hurt," $mama replies. "I will not apologise for trying to keep you safe, $name." "So you would put your own wants over mine?" you demand. $mama falters and she frowns, a conflicted expression in her eyes as she gazes at you. She swallows, letting out a shuddering breath. "I... of course that is not what I want to do. Anu can stay if it is truly what you want." <<elseif $chp7_25D is 3>> "Stop," you hiss. "I would rather have Anu here than you." The years of $mama's absence has left an endless abyss in your chest, the hollowness filled over the years with pain and anger. As you glare at your mother, you find that she is staring at you with widened eyes, her confusion evident in the way that her forehead creases. "$name... I only want to keep you safe," she murmurs. "Anu should have known better than to let you near Atses' Heart." "You do not get to act like a mother now," you spit. "Not when you left me as a child. Leave me, $mama." Your mother's lips part and she stares at you, but no words leave her lips. As $mama glances at Anu, you note the despair in her face as her shoulders slump. "If that is what you wish then I will leave you." <<elseif $chp7_25D is 4>> "I want Anu here," you breathe. "She is important to me." You glance at Anu and find that her grey eyes are already on you. She stares at you, as though stunned by your admission. A small smile pulls at the corners of your lips and slowly, the tension in Anu's expression bleeds away until her lips tug up into the smallest of smiles. It is a warm sight that nearly steals your breath but a sound of incredulity from your mother draws your attention away. "Anu should not have let you near Atses' Heart," your mother hisses. "She let you get hurt." You frown at your mother, your eyebrows furrowing against your eyes. "Anu is not responsible for me, $mama. I am not a child and I can make my own decisions without your interference. I want Anu here because she has become important to me. Why can you not accept that?" Your mother stares at you, frowing as her fingers knot against the material of her robes. Her eyes shift between you and Anu before a slow breath leaves her lips. "If... you want Anu to stay then I will not stop you, $name." <</if>> [[Next.|chp7_25D2]]

Turning away from you, $mama begins her way towards the door but she hesitates, stopping to frown at Anu. Her eyes flash with gold, nearly blinding and you feel the air grow hot against your skin. When $mama speaks, her voice is loud, piercing your ears with its sharpness. "I will not tolerate another mistake, Anu," $mama warns. "Hurt $name again and you will be punished accordingly." "I understand," Anu breathes. Your mother nods, casting you a long look before she finally leaves you alone with Anu. The moment she is gone, the air returns to normal and your ears no longer ring with the thunderclap of her voice. Anu glances at you, her expression falling as she gazes at you. "High Priestess Salyra is right," Anu murmurs. "I am responsible for what happened to you." <<set $chp7_25D2 to 0>> [["It is not your fault," you answer.|chp7_25D3][$chp7_25D2 +=1]] [["My mother is only looking for someone to blame," you sigh. "She seems unable to accept that there is no one at fault"|chp7_25D3][$chp7_25D2 +=2]] [["I... you could have stopped what happened," you breathe.|chp7_25D3][$chp7_25D2 +=3]] <<if $salyraRel gte 60>> [["I am sorry that my mother no longer trusts you," you murmur.|chp7_25D3][$chp7_25D2 +=4]]<</if>>

<<if $chp7_25D2 is 1>> "It is not your fault," you answer. Anu's eyes widen and she stares at you in disbelief. You realise that she truly believes that she is at fault for your collapse but you find that you cannot blame her. She turns away from your gaze, her lips pressing into a thin line. Letting out a sharp breath, Anu begins to pace the room, her strides long and frustrated. "Do not say that, $name," she hisses. "It is my fault. I should have not let you stand so close when I was wielding Atses' Heart." "You cannot think that, Anu," you respond. <<if $sword_reject is false>>"I am the one who reached for the sword."<</if>> Anu tugs at the dark strands of her hair, her face twisting at your words. She turns away from your gaze, her breathing sharp and unsteady. You stare at her, uncertain what you can do or say to convince her that she is not at fault for your earlier collapse. She glances at you, her grey eyes filled with doubt. "You were hurt, $name, and that is my burden to bear," she breathes. <<elseif $chp7_25D2 is 2>> "My mother is only looking for someone to blame," you sigh. "She seems unable to accept that there is no one at fault." A sharp bark of laughter escapes Anu, the sound bitter and low as she turns to regard you. You frown at her, unable to make sense of the humourless sound that leaves her mouth. Her laughter soon fades and in its place is a dark look, remorseful and afraid. "Do not speak about things that you do not understand," Anu replies. "Your mother is right. I should have stopped you from touching Atses' Heart." "Why do you keep saying that it is your fault?" you ask, exasperated. "Because it is!" Anu shouts. Her shout silences you and your eyes widen in surprise. She gasps, pacing once more as she avoids your eyes. There is a rigidness in Anu's posture as though she is holding herself taut, afraid of herself or perhaps she is afraid of hurting you. A breath escapes her and she sags, her fingers curling at her sides. <<elseif $chp7_25D2 is 3>> "I... you could have stopped what happened," you breathe. Your words are soft, but they leave your mouth in a hurried whisper, drawing Anu's gaze towards you. Her grey eyes search your face, as though trying to form a response to your words but instead, she only looks away. A deep frown settles over her lips and Anu begins to pull at her hair, a weary expression on her face. "I know," she breathes. "Deities, I know. It is my fault that you were... that you..." Her words trail off and she glances at you, her eyes wide with fear. She stares at you as though expecting you to lash out at her, but your heavy limbs keep you in place, dulling any form of retaliation from you. Anu's grey eyes shift over your prone form and she turns away, as though burnt by the sight. "I am sorry," she whispers, so low that you have to strain to hear her. "I did not mean for this to happen." <<elseif $chp7_25D2 is 4 >> "I am sorry that my mother no longer trusts you," you murmur. You are not blind to the effect that your mother's scorn has had on Anu. The young priestess stiffens at the sound of your voice, her arms curling around herself as she turns to stare at the floor. The tension in the air simmers, like oil that has heated too much, ready to spit out. "I... it is not because of you, $name," Anu whispers. Your eyebrows furrow as you stare at Anu. "What do you mean?" Anu turns to look at you, her expression twisted with remorse and beneath it, fear. You are uncertain what it is that terrifies her so much, her own abilities or perhaps it is the disappointment in your mother's tone when she spoke so harshly to Anu? "There is much that your mother has seen, $name," Anu responds. "I... I deserve her ire, more than you know." <</if>> [[Next.|chp7_25D4]]

The heaviness of the conversation settles over the room, leaving a tense silence in its wake. Your eyes move over the room, noting the herbs that sit against a wooden table and the woven rugs that have been placed against the stone floor. Anu sighs, the sound of her breath interrupting your inspection of the furniture. "You must loathe me," Anu breathes. "I... when you collapsed like that, I thought that you were dead. But then you made a sound... deities, it was such a //pitiful// sound but it was enough to drag you to the healers." She glances at you. "I will not blame you if you do not forgive me." <<set $chp7_25D4 to 0>> [["I do not hate you, Anu," you breathe. "I could never hate you."|chp7_25D5][$chp7_25D4 +=1, $anuRel +=5]] [["You do not need to apologise," you respond. "There... There is nothing to forgive."|chp7_25D5][$chp7_25D4 +=2, $anuRel +=5]] [["It is your fault," you hiss. "You could have stopped me from reaching the sword earlier."|chp7_25D5][$chp7_25D4 +=3, $anuRel -=5]] [[♡"I..." you murmur, warming from the sincerity of her tone.|chp7_25D5_A][$chp7_25D4 +=4, $anuRel +=5, $anuRom +=5, $shy_anu +=5]] [[♡"I must admit that you are endearing when you are like this," you breathe, smirking at her.|chp7_25D5_A][$chp7_25D4 +=5, $anuRel +=5, $anuRom +=5, $bold_anu +=5]]

<<if $chp7_25D4 is 1>> "I do not hate you, Anu," you breathe. "I could never hate you." You have known Anu for a few weeks, but in that time, you have come to understand that the young priestess only does what she thinks is best to keep the people of Ishari safe. Gazing at her, you note the tortured expression in her grey eyes, a deep well of sorrow and pain that makes you wonder about the life she must have led to become so jaded. "You are kinder than I deserve, $name," Anu murmurs. "After everything that has happened, how could you say something so foolish?" You frown at her. "You are calling me a fool?" "Of course not," she retorts, glancing at you with widening eyes. A moment passes, before she continues in a warmer tone. "I am only calling your actions foolish." A small laugh escapes your mouth, the sound piercing the tension in the air until the dark expression on Anu's face eases, her lips tugging into a small smile. Slowly, your voice fades, but Anu is still smiling at you. There is a gentle look on her face and you find that you cannot look away. You have never seen her seem so at ease before. "You are a sentimental fool," Anu sighs, a fond note in her voice. "But... I am grateful to have met you." <<elseif $chp7_25D4 is 2>> "You do not need to apologise," you respond. "There... There is nothing to forgive." Your words are soft, a slow stammer that is filled with sincerity. Anu did not intentionally cause you harm and from the remorseful look in her eyes, you know that she blames herself for what happened earlier. You frown, gazing down at your hands and let out a breath. For most of your life, you knew what cruelty felt like. Many frowned upon your existence, as though you were a reminder of what should not have existed. Anu is far from those people. Her anger and brashness is a symptom of her personality and perhaps from the life she must have led in her youth, not because she hates you for your heritage. You look up at Anu and find that she is staring at you with a conflicted look on her face. She opens her mouth to speak but then, shakes her head and looks away. "There is much to forgive," Anu breathes. "I... you should not be this kind to me, $name." You swallow. "I have known what it is like to be hated for most of my life, Anu. I could never bring myself to treat you so callously, not when I know how painful it is." A sharp breath escapes Anu and she avoids meeting your eyes. You note the way her fingers tighten into fists, her body held stiffly as if she is afraid to move or make a sound. You are struck by the sight of her cowed head, her breathing ragged and harsh. "Thank you," she gasps. <<elseif $chp7_25D4 is 3>> "It is your fault," you hiss. "You could have stopped me from reaching the sword earlier." Poison laces your words as you glare at Anu. Your fingers tighten into the quilt and your teeth press painfully against each other until your jaw aches. Anu stares at you, her eyes widening at your words before she frowns. You expect her to yell at you but she only turns away, her eyes staring at anything but you. Your anger grows at her cowed response and you let out a ragged breath, your chest tightening at the thought that you could have escaped collapsing earlier if Anu had pulled the sword away before you reached it. "I know," Anu murmurs. "I... I regret not acting faster. You had been so frightening... I could not move." A scoff escapes you. "You were struck by fear?" Anu's fingers tighten into her palms and she turns to stare at you. Something dark flickers through her grey eyes and suddenly, she is scowling at you. This is the response you had been expecting and you smile, feeling your cheeks hurt as Anu strides closer, her ire flaring. "Mock me all you want, $name," she hisses. "I know that I failed in my duties today." <</if>> [[Next.|chp7_25D6]]

<<if $chp7_25D4 is 4>> "I..." you murmur, warming from the sincerity of her tone. Anu stares at you, her eyes searching your face as you grow warmer with each passing second. It is hard to know what to say to interrupt the growing silence between you. A small twitch at the corner of Anu's lips draws your attention to her mouth and you flush deeper, feeling your blood course through your ears, threatening to drown out the sound of your thudding heartbeat. "Stop looking at me like that," Anu mumbles, her eyes slipping over your face. You swallow. "Like what?" She shakes her head, gesturing at you as though that answers your question. When your frown deepens, Anu lets out a ragged breath, running her hands over her face. She peers at you as if you have lost your senses and you find that her gaze only makes your cheeks warm. You swallow, your palms growing sweaty the longer that Anu stares at you. "Like some lovestricken fool," she huffs. Her words causes your pulse to quicken and you suddenly wish that you could bury your face under the quilt and never look Anu again. You look away, your breathing sharp and uneven as you struggle to calm your thundering heartbeat. "I... I am sorry," you mumble, your words feeling heavy. Anu sighs, her eyes meeting yours and for a moment, you note a flicker of longing in her grey gaze. The sight is enough to send a shudder down your back and you bite down on your lower lip to stop a gasp from escaping you. "This is not the time for flirting," she murmurs. "No matter how much I would like to tease you, my sweet." <<elseif $chp7_25D4 is 5>> "I must admit that you are endearing when you are like this," you breathe, smirking at her. Your words are slow, languid as you tilt your head to gaze at Anu. She turns to stare at you, her eyes widening in surprise before a dark sliver of longing flickers through her grey irises. The smirk against your lips pulls wider and you find yourself taking in her strong stance and the way her lips part, a small breath escaping her. "Now is not the time to be flirting, $name," Anu replies, frowning at you. You shrug. "No? But I think the timing is perfect for us, do you not agree?" A surprised laugh spills out from Anu's mouth and she stares at you, her expression incredulous. You grin wider, enjoying the slow, mounting heat along your skin, your gaze travelling over Anu's proud features and darkening gaze. "You must have hit your head a little too hard when you fell," she murmurs, smiling despite her words. You press your lips together, frowning. "I am capable of flirting without a head injury, Anu." She laughs again and the sound is louder, lighter and you notice the softness of her expression. Anu seems freer, unburdened by the weight of what has happened and your skin grows warmer as affection surges through your chest. You smile, unable to pull your gaze away from her sight. <</if>> [[Next.|chp7_25D5_A1]]

The room grows quiet then, your conversation lapsing as you stare at each other. Anu opens her mouth to speak, but her words are interrupted when the wooden door to the room opens, revealing an elderly woman. The woman glances at you, her eyes softening when she notices you awake before she turns to gaze at Anu with a frown. "I told you that $MChe would be well, Anu," she breathes. "You can rest easy knowing that $name will recover." "Do not coddle me, Summu," Anu huffs, but her voice lacks the bite of anger. "I... I need to speak to the High Priestess." The woman, Summu, frowns at Anu and reaches out towards her, but Anu waves away her touch and strides out of the room without looking back. A sigh escapes Summu and she turns to look at you, her expression pinched into concern. "She is always so desperate to prove herself," Summu murmurs. "One day, it will be her undoing." You do not get an opportunity to question what Summu means, for she moves to take a seat beside you. She brushes her fingers against your forehead and murmurs under her breath as she examines your eyes for an uncomfortably long time. "How are you feeling?" she asks. <<set $chp7_25_ALT1 to 0>> [["Tired," you admit, sagging against the bed.|chp7_25_ALT2][$chp7_25_ALT1 +=1]] [["I feel better," you reply, stretching your arms.|chp7_25_ALT2][$chp7_25_ALT1 +=2]] <<if $chp7_burn is true>> [["It is just my hand that hurts," you respond, glancing at your bandaged palm.|chp7_25_ALT2][$chp7_25_ALT1 +=3]]<</if>>

Anu's grey eyes meet yours in the dimness of the room and you find your mouth growing dry. Her gaze is earnest and soft, the sight of it stealing the air from your lungs until you feel a swirl of warmth spreading through your chest. She opens her mouth to speak but then, presses her lips together, her feet carrying her towards you on the bed. Her fingers are gentle, a soft caress as they smooth along your jaw. You shiver, suddenly too hot under the quilts and yet, wanting nothing more than to bask in the heat of Anu's gaze. Anu's grey eyes drop to your mouth and you swallow, the mounting tension growing until you are certain that it will snap. <<if $irus_lock is false>><<set $chp7_25D5_A1 to 0>><<set $chp7_anukiss to false>> [[You let out a breath as she draws you close, her touch warm against you.|chp7_25D5_A2][$chp7_25D5_A1 +=1, $chp7_anukiss to true]] [[A whimper leaves your mouth as her lips press against yours.|chp7_25D5_A2][$chp7_25D5_A1 +=2, $chp7_anukiss to true]] [[You tilt your mouth, surging forward as you press your lips against Anu's mouth.|chp7_25D5_A2][$chp7_25D5_A1 +=3, $chp7_anukiss to true]] <<else>> Anu draws her hand away from you, suddenly frowning. You look up at her, longing and confused but she does not speak nor does she meet your questioning stare. A breath leaves her lips and she turns to stare at the wall, though her gaze is unfocussed. "You are courting the princeling," she states. "As much as I loathe him, I cannot bring myself to... do whatever it is you wish to happen." You frown, suddenly reminded of Prince Irus and his gentle, blue eyes. A twist at your chest pulls you away from the heat of Anu's touch and your breath escapes you shakily. "I should leave you to rest, $name," Anu murmurs. "Sleep well." She leaves the room before you can respond and you sag against the bed, suddenly exhausted and weary from your conversation. As you stare at the ceiling, you find that it is difficult to keep your eyes open, no matter how restless your thoughts. [[Next.|chp7_26]]<</if>>

<<if $chp7_25D5_A1 is 1>> You let out a breath as she draws you close, her touch warm against you. The bare skin of her arms, exposed from the short sleeves of her tunic, brush against your sides as she embraces you. She is like a raging firestorm in the middle of summer, engulfing with a warmth that seeps deep into your bones. Your skin tingles as Anu's fingers press you closer against her chest and you lean into her touch. "I am sorry," she whispers against your ear. You begin to pull away, turning to gaze at her, but Anu draws you closer, burying her face into the crook of your neck. The unevenly cut strands of her dark hair brush against your skin and you are surprised by the softness of it. She smells of smoke, a heady mixture of wood and herbs that clings to the material of her clothes. A shuddering breath leaves you and you sink further into her embrace, basking in the warmth of her hold. She is solid in the way a stone pillar might be, unwavering and steady against a raging storm. When you turn to meet her grey eyes, you find that she is already looking at you, her gaze softer than you remembered it being. "I should let you rest, $name," she murmurs. "You will need time to recover." <<elseif $chp7_25D5_A1 is 2>> A whimper leaves your mouth as her lips press against yours. There is nothing delicate about kissing Anu. Her mouth is presses against yours, demanding and hard. You shudder as her fingers trace along the sides of your face, cradling you as she draws you closer. Heat spreads through your face where her fingers linger as you gasp, a shuddering breath escaping you when you feel the dart of her tongue. Anu surges forward, tilting your chin as she begins to kiss the seams of your mouth before she slips her tongue between your parted lips. You shiver against her, your eyes squeezing closed as she deepens the kiss. Heat pools in the pit of your stomach causing your skin to prickle, nearly burning against her proximity. She pulls back only enough that her forehead bumps against yours, her warm breath grazing your cheeks. Your heartbeat is loud, deafening, as it thunder under your chest. As Anu's grey eyes settle over you, you flush, suddenly unable to meet her deep gaze. Anu smiles before she shifts, her fingers threading themselves against yours. "It is late, $name," she breathes, kissing the corner of your mouth. "I should go before I am tempted to do more." <<elseif $chp7_25D5_A1 is 3>> You tilt your mouth, surging forward as you press your lips against Anu's mouth. She lets out a surprised sound, a rumble in the back of her throat but then, her fingers tighten around your neck and draw you closer as she returns your kiss. You hum into the kiss, pressing deeper. Her mouth is warm and inviting under yours and for a moment, it feels like the world has slowed down for both of you. Your eyes fall shut and your hands find their way to her hair, tugging lightly at the soft strands. Her tongue pushes into your mouth, tasting every part of you. The gentle scrape of her tongue against yours sends a shudder down your back and you moan, the sound unbidden as it escapes you. Anu smirks, before she pulls away. For a second, all there is is her, her beautiful face, the dark flush on her cheeks, and your heart pounding so fast, you are surprised she cannot hear it. She stares at you, and you are pleased to find that she is as nearly out of breath as you. "If I knew you were this good of a kisser, I might have kissed you sooner," Anu teases, grinning at you. Her words are soft, whispered as though it is a secret shared only between you. You find yourself leaning closer, unable to ignore the pull that draws you towards her warmth and the softness of her mouth. Her smirk draws higher and she lets her fingers graze against your cheek before she presses a gentle peck against your lips. "You should rest, $name," she murmurs. "I do not think you are well enough for more." <</if>> You stare at Anu, your mind still reeling from her warmth and the scent of her skin. She notices your expression and a small smile pulls at the corners of her mouth, the softness of the expression enough to cause your blood to rush through your ears. "Sleep well, $name," Anu breathes. She leaves before you can respond, leaving you alone with thoughts of nothing but her to fill your mind as you sink into sleep. [[Next.|chp7_26]]

It is not difficult to find your companions. You follow the Ishari warriors, the air filled with unspoken tension and make your way into a large chamber on the lower floors of the temple. There is already a crowd of priestesses and warriors but it the sound of your mother's voice that draws you closer. <<if $lena_free is true>> A hand grasps your elbow and pulls and you nearly topple over from the strength. Turning, you find Lena standing there, wearing a slightly apologetic smile. "Sorry, I forget my strength," she laughs. "It is good to see you walking again." You nod. "You are no longer being watched?" Lena shrugs, glancing towards where you spot Lord Redall. He wears a dark look on his face, ignoring those around him in favour of glaring at the walls. "Your lordling is too busy preparing to leave for home. I would suggest that we all leave but I fear that all of you are too foolish to see the danger you have put yourselves in," Lena answers. "It is no matter. If I am going to die, I suppose I will die with a blade in my hand." <<else>> The first thing you notice is the gathered warriors, some dressed in armour that reminds you of the night you helped free those imprisoned by the Blood Guard. They stand around Lord Redall, who seems to ignore those around him in favour of glaring at the walls. On the other side of the room, you find your companions. Sir Oren stands resolutely, his body stiff and his eyes searching the room as though searching for threats. Beside him, Queen Elora whispers to Prince Irus, who wears a hard expression, his fingers curled at his sides. "...Lord Redall will be returning to Vinia and we hope that with his aid, the prisoners will be found," $mama speaks. Your attention returns to where she stands. There are many whispers around the room, some in agreement but there are lower voices, filled with doubt and contempt. It would seem that despite Princess Lamahu's approval, the alliance is not favoured by all. <</if>> [[Next.|chp7_28]]

You make your way through the crowd, pressing against the heat of bodies that shift and close together like a densely packed shoal of sardines. As you emerge through an opening, you catch the sight of your mother and companions. <<if $irus_lock is true>> "$name," Prince Irus calls, striding towards you. His blue eyes search your face. "What are you doing here?" You gaze at him. "I heard that you were having a discussion." "You need to rest," he breathes. "You should not be out of bed." Shaking your head, you offer him a small smile. There is little pain in your joints and your lingering weakness is not nearly as overwhelming as it had been days ago. Prince Irus' presses his lips together, concern etched in the lines of his face. "I am well, Irus," you murmur. <<elseif $elora_lock is true>> Queen Elora's dark eyes widen and she draws closer to you, her fingers reaching to grip your hands in her hold. Her eyes are filled with worry as she takes in your form, searching you as though expecting some hidden injury. "Why are you here?" she demands, her eyes narrowing. "You should be resting, $name." You offer her a smile. "I am well, Elora." But her frown only deepens and she reaches out to cup your face. "Do not be absurd, $name. Only a few days ago and you could barely walk." "I wanted to know what was happening," you answer. "This involves me too." <<else>> Your mother ignores the stares of those who are gathered around her, instead, making her way towards you with a frown. Her brows are gathered in the middle of her forehead, markedly different from the poised woman she had appeared to be only moments ago. "$name," she breathes. "You are walking... why are you here? Summu assured me that you would be resting." <<if $chp7_25C is true>> Behind her, you catch Sir Oren's gentle eyes on you. He offers you a small smile, but it does nothing to mask the worry in his gaze. Your chest tightens at the sight, though your mother's voice pulls your attention back towards her. <<elseif $chp7_25D is true>> Standing behind your mother, you notice Anu. She glances at you, holding herself stiffly though you note the way her grey eyes softens when she catches your gaze on her. You begin to smile but your sight of Anu is blocked when your mother turns to peer at you closely. <</if>> "I am well enough to be a part of this discussion," you reply. <</if>> [[Next.|chp7_29]]

"Let $name stay," Sargon calls. "This affects $MChim too." You glance at him, nodding in gratitude before you move to stand beside your companions. With no other interruptions, the discussion continues and you come to learn that Lord Redall will be returning to Vinia with some of the gathered warriors in the hopes to intercept the Nomad prisoners who might make their way to Virion in Hadi. As you gaze at Lord Redall, the knowledge that he will return to Vinia fills you with... <<set $chp7_29 to 0>> [[...dread. With Lord Redall gone, it means that there will be less of your allies to assist if Ishari is attacked.|chp7_30][$chp7_29 +=1]] [[...confidence that you will succeed in recapturing the Nomad prisoners.|chp7_30][$chp7_29 +=2]] [[...acceptance, for this is the only way to mitigate the consequences of the escaped prisoners.|chp7_30][$chp7_29 +=3]] [[...unease as you know that with every decision made, you are closer to facing Virion and the Blood Guard.|chp7_30][$chp7_29 +=4]] [[...numbness. You do not know what to make of the recent developments.|chp7_30][$chp7_29 +=5]]

<<if $chp7_29 is 1>> Your heartbeat quickens and you swallow a painful lump. Lord Redall has proven to be a dependable ally in your journey and one who has sacrificed much, including his crew to help Prince Irus reclaim the throne. It is difficult to stem the flow of your thoughts as fear laces them with poisonous doubts. A breath escapes you and you tighten your hands at your sides, trying to bury the thought that you will fail without Lord Redall. <<elseif $chp7_29 is 2>> Despite the escape of the Nomad prisoners, you know that it will only be a matter of time before they are recaptured. You glance at Lord Redall, determined that he will succeed in intercepting their journey towards Vinia if they intend on returning to Virion. The hardships of your journey has only made you stronger and you know that a few prisoners will not interfere with your task. <<elseif $chp7_29 is 3>>You try to think of a better solution to the problems you and the rest of your allies face, but it is difficult to come up with one that does not endanger others uneccesarily. A sigh leaves your lips and you realise that there is no better plan, not with the limited amount of warriors to keep Ishari safe or when Vinia is still facing the theat of the Blood Guard. <<elseif $chp7_29 is 4>> Your week's long rest had dulled your sense of time and urgency. For a while, it was easy to slip in and out of sleep, not having to think about the Blood Guard or Virion. But as you stand there, staring at the gathered faces, you know that it is only a matter of time until you will have to face Virion again. The thought is enough to engulf you with fear and you swallow, trying to push away the feeling. <<elseif $chp7_29 is 5>> There has been little time to think about everything that has happened. You have had to meet with Princess Lamahu and deal with the revelations of your parents' past. A week ago, you were still reeling from touching Atses' Heart and you shiver, a tremor running down your spine. As you gaze at those gathered, you cannot bring yourself to feel anything substantial. The feelings slip through your palms, never settling against your chest and you sigh, the empty feeling only growing. <</if>> Your attention is quickly pulled away from your thoughts when Prince Irus steps towards your mother. The eyes of those around you glance towards him, some with surprise while others narrow at his interruption of your mother's words. "It is clear that we will need more allies if we are to defeat my uncle," he states. Your mother frowns. "Your Highness, you have the support of Vinia and now, our princess. Who else would you ask to support you that does not already support your uncle?" "The Southern Islands," Queen Elora interrupts. Her eyes are dark, unwavering. "It is my mother's birthplace and they would be willing to aid us if we asked." "What are you suggesting?" $mama asks, her tone impatient. "I suggest that we speak to those in the Southern Islands," Prince Irus answers. "If we gain their support, we will gain the power of the seas. They have skilled sailors who would prove useful against the Nomad Tribes." At his words, you realise that it would mean leaving Ishari and journeying through the seas once again. Your mother must realise this too because her eyes suddenly shift towards you, her lips pressing into a frown. A flicker of uncertainty flashes through her dark eyes but she looks away, her gaze hardening. "I will not stop you from leaving, Your Highness," $mama states. Her eyes drift towards you once more. "If it is for the good of the alliance and to stop your uncle then you will have our support. [[Next.|chp8_start]]

<div class="heading">Chapter Seven</div><div class="borderstyle">p</div> <div class="timeline">Age of Aedes, Year 544, Spring</div> <center>[[Begin.|chp7]] <center><<linkreplace "Trigger warnings." t8n>>Mentions of warfare, religious worship, mentions of violence, mentions of injuries, mentions of blood, parental abandonment and neglect, anxiety and emotional stress.<</linkreplace>></center>

<<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "chp8" loop play>><div class="heading">Chapter Eight</div><div class="borderstyle">p</div> <div class="timeline">Age of Aedes, Year 544, Spring</div> <center>[[Begin.|chp8]] <center><<linkreplace "Trigger warnings." t8n>>Mentions of warfare, religious worship, mentions of violence, mentions of injuries, mentions of blood, parental abandonment and neglect, anxiety, emotional stress and optional sexual content.<</linkreplace>></center>

<<set $location to "The Temple of Ehulla, Urur">><div class="timeline">The Temple of Ehulla, Urur.</div> There are moments when you long for the days of quiet. Your youth was spent amongst the salty brine of the sea and the hush of being ignored by your father. Since leaving Salt Bay, you have yet to have a moment of quiet rest. There is far too much to do and little time to prepare for the war you know is coming. But for the first time in weeks, you are alone. The hush of the temple is only interrupted by soft voices in the corridors. None dare enter your chamber for Summu, the healer who has tended to you the way a mother wolf would tend to her pups, has barred your door from the inside. Her face is lined with determined focus, yet her eyes are warm as they grace your features. For the past week since your recovery, Summu has been visiting you with tinctures to bolster your strength. <<set $chp8 to 0>> [[You are appreciative of her kind care, for she reminds you of your grandmother.|chp8_1][$chp8 +=1]] [[You are grateful if only because Summu has been able to grant you peace when others have not.|chp8_1][$chp8 +=2]] [[She is just a healer to you. You will glad when you no longer need her aid.|chp8_1][$chp8 +=3]] [[You distrust Summu and often wonder if she is only treating you out of her duty to your mother.|chp8_1][$chp8 +=4]] [[You do not care strongly about Summu to have an opinion of her presence.|chp8_1][$chp8 +=5]]

<<if $chp8 is 1>> There is a likeness between Siduri and Summu that you have noticed in your weeks of rest. You feel a tug at your chest, a painful reminder of the absence of the family you left behind in Vinia. The softness of Summu's gaze reminds you of your grandmother. It is the gentle acceptance of you, regardless of your past and the heritage you are forced to bear. She notices your gaze and offers you a small smile. It makes her expression warmer and for a moment, you are not so alone anymore. <<elseif $chp8 is 2>> The endless chatter and constant travels has left you weary and longing for respite. It has been a difficult thing to know that the life you once led is over. You will no longer know peace or the quiet that comes from being shunned by those who wish to have nothing to do with you. Since arriving in Ishari, you do not know anyone other than Summu who has managed to grant you a moment alone. You glance at her, taking in the gentle expression on her face and sigh. It has been some time since you were alone with your thoughts and for that you are grateful. <<elseif $chp8 is 3>> Summu has been dutiful in her care for you and you do not doubt her sincerity when she feeds you tinctures of bitter herbs to heal you. Yet, as you sit before her, watching her grind the leaves in a small bowl, you find that there is little that you feel towards the healer. She has helped you when you needed it but you know that she would have reacted the same towards anyone else who had been injured. You will grateful when you no longer require her assistance, for you long for your freedom once more. <<elseif $chp8 is 4>> To deny your mistrust of the healer would be to deceive yourself. You often stare at the woman, wise and old in her age and wonder if she carries tales of your recovery to $mama. It is not difficult to suspect the healer. You have often seen her speaking to $mama during the rituals and early, morning prayers in the temple. While Summu has cared for you as you recovered, you cannot bury the thought that she has done it not because of you, but because of $mama. <<elseif $chp8 is 5>> Summu has been helping to care for you for the past few weeks now. She has been kinder than most and gentle in her treatment of you but it is not difficult to think that she must treat all who require her assistance this way. You do not feel strong feelings about the healer, preferring to accept her help with little words shared between you. There is little to be said about your lack of feelings towards the healer, for you know when this is all over, you will likely not see her again. <</if>> "You are healing well," Summu murmurs, glancing at you. <<if $chp7_burn is true>>"Your hand is scarred but you are fortunate that there is no further harm to your movement."<</if>> You nod in response, feeling the truth of the healer's words. Since the ordeal of <<if $sword_reject is true>>being rejected by the divinity of your blood<<else>>awakening your divinity<</if>>, you have found yourself struck by bouts of aches and a weariness that devours your strength. It has been a difficult thing to overcome, but the longer you have rested, the easier it has been to return to as you once were. <<set $chp8_1 to 0>> [[You are grateful to have recovered with little issue.|chp8_2][$chp8_1 +=1]] [[It has been a difficult recovery and you are still upset by what happened to you.|chp8_2][$chp8_1 +=2]] [[You fear that your weakness is only a sign that you will falter during the war.|chp8_2][$chp8_1 +=3]] <<if $chp7_burn is true>>[[Your lips pull into a frown at the sight of your scarred palm, knowing that you are forever marked by it.|chp8_2][$chp8_1 +=3]]<</if>>

<<if $chp8_1 is 1>> From the knowledge you have gleaned from those around you, it is evident that those who contend with the divine blessings have rarely survived. You are grateful that you have recovered your strength and the ability to walk with little hardship. You are uncertain if it is due to Summu's care or perhaps you are stronger than you are led to believe, but you are thankful that you are no longer in pain. <<elseif $chp8_1 is 2>> Your feelings are difficult to make sense of, for it is a beast that stalks your thoughts when you are alone. There is much to contend with when you are reminded of that day of your injury. It is a memory you would rather forget for it leaves you gasping for breath and desperate for solace. You were hurt that day and knowing it happened not because of anything other than your blood leaves you untethered and hollow. <<elseif $chp8_1 is 3>> Your throat constricts when you are reminded of your weakness of the day you collapsed. It has weighed heavily on your mind, forcing you to come to the realisation that you are not prepared to face Virion or the Blood Guard. An unsteady breath escapes you and you fight the urge to flee the confines of your chamber. Fear, you have learnt, is a far greater threat to you than the war. <<elseif $chp8_1 is 4>> Your gaze traces the skin that has knitted back together. It is ridged and uneven under the pad of your thumb and your lips pull at the corner of your mouth. Being reminded of that day has been a burden to carry and the skin of your scarred palm only reminds you further of your failure in strength. You curl your fingers into your palm as you struggle to push down the bitter thoughts in your mind. <</if>> "I have heard from the whispers that you will be accompanying the His Highness to the Southern Islands," Summu remarks. "I would advise you against the journey but I see in your eyes that my words will matter little to you." You glance at the healer, taking in her amused smile as if she has uncovered a great secret. But she is right. No matter how you might feel about leaving Ishari after only a month, you know that there can be no hesitation in gaining allies and helping Prince Irus reclaim his throne. A breath escapes you and you look down at your hands. "I have recovered enough for travelling. It is a journey I must take." Summu nods at you, sighing as though having expected your words. There is nothing that she can say that will change your decisions now. Whatever may come, you will be accompanying Prince Irus. [[Next.|chp8_3]]

There is no more that Summu can do for you and with a nod of gratitude, you take your leave of the healer and the small room that has become your home for the past few weeks. As you stride through the temple's hallways, you become aware of the gazes that flicker towards you. Some offer you gentle smiles while others watch you with wary expressions. You are not ignorant of your mother's role in the temple, nor are you blind to the way it has influenced the way the temple's inhabitants treat you. It is an unwanted reminder of your childhood in Salt Bay. No matter what you do, it would seem that you will always be judged by the merit of your parents. <<set $chp8_3 to 0>> [[It saddens you that you are often seen as an extension of your heritage.|chp8_4][$chp8_3 +=1]] [[You wish that others would base their opinions on the person you are, but you can understand why they do not.|chp8_4][$chp8_3 +=2]] [[Irritation fills you, knowing that you will always be seen as the child of your parents.|chp8_4][$chp8_3 +=3]] [[The stares of others no longer affects you. You are accustomed to being judged for the things that you cannot control.|chp8_4][$chp8_3 +=4]] [[You are hopeful that their opinions of you will change in time.|chp8_4][$chp8_3 +=5]]

<<if $chp8_3 is 1>> A hollow ache spreads through your chest and you struggle to keep a deep frown from tugging at the edges of your lips. For years, you have been judged for being different or having the wrong blood. Your parents' union meant that no matter how much you tried to prove yourself worthy of acceptance, it never truly changed the opinions of others. Perhaps believing that those in Ishari would be different was a foolish notion. It would seem that no matter how far you travel, you will always be treated as something to be judged for the actions of your parents. <<elseif $chp8_3 is 2>> You have lived your entire life being seen as nothing more than the result of your parents' union. Your childhood in Salt Bay only proved to you that many do no care for the person you are, but what you might represent. To those in Cyre, you are an abomination and here, in Ishari, it would seem that you are nothing more than your mother's $heir. It has been a difficult thing to understand, but in the years of your loneliness and longing for acceptance, you have come to realise that nothing you do will change the beliefs of others. The knowledge of this has made it easier to accept the stares and whispers, though you are uncertain if they will ever come to an end. <<elseif $chp8_3 is 3>> A ragged breath escapes your lips and your teeth grind against each other as your jaw clenches. Irritation fills you, burning as hot as the flames of the braziers in the temple. You have lived your entire life being judged for the person that you are not and knowing that Ishari is no different to Salt Bay only acts as a catalyst to your rage. You wish to scream to those around you that you are not your father, nor are you $mama. And yet, as you continue along the hallways, you are reminded that no matter what you say or do, there are those who will always see you as an embodiment of everything that is wrong. <<elseif $chp8_3 is 4>> You meet the gazes of those you pass with a numbness of disinterest. As a child, you spent many days wondering what you could have done differently to change the opinions of others. It took you too long to realise that there was nothing you could have done. People who judge you so because they refuse to see you for you are. Once, you would have been furious or hurt by the way you are treated, but you are no longer a naive child in search of acceptance. You have found peace in knowing that you cannot do anything differently to change the convictions of others. <<elseif $chp8_3 is 5>> A swell of hope fills you at the prospect that in time, you will be judged for the actions you take and not for the heritage that you carry. You have seen the way people change when given time to understand and accept who you are. Though the people of Ishari have not treated you as poorly as you had been in Salt Bay, you know that there are some in the temple who still view you with mistrust. You have already secured the aid of Princess Lamahu and with it, you have garned the trust of those who viewed you as no more than an ally to Prince Irus. Perhaps in the months to come, the others will come to accept you for the person you are rather than the past you carry. <</if>> As though your thoughts have colluded against you, your eyes alight upon $mama. She notices you as your feet slow, your body growing still as you hesitate. Neither have you have spoken much since your collapse and you are uncertain if it is because your mother has been busy with her duties as the High Priestess or if she has purposefully avoided you. "$name," $mama breathes. Her eyes shift over you, before a small smile tugs at her lips. "I had hoped that we could speak." <<set $chp8_4 to 0>> [[You nod, willing to hear what your mother has to say.|chp8_5][$chp8_4 +=1]] [["What is it?" you demand, rankled by her appearance.|chp8_5][$chp8_4 +=2, $salyraRel -=5]] [["Of course," you agree, smiling warmly.|chp8_5][$chp8_4 +=3, $salyraRel +=5]] [[You walk past her without a response, for there is nothing you wish to hear from her.|chp8_5][$chp8_4 +=4]]

<<if $chp8_4 is 1>> You nod, willing to hear what your mother has to say. As you step to one side, your mother pauses as though uncertain how to approach you. There is a prickling tension between the both of you and you cannot help but wonder what is on her mind. <<if $salyraRel gt 50>>Your mother glances at you and smiles and for a moment, you note the sincerity in the darkness of her pupils. Though your relationship has suffered in the years of her absence, you find that there is still a flicker of warmth in your chest whenever she gazes at you softly.<<else>>Pretending that the pain and turmoil caused by your mother's absence did not exist would be doing you both a disfavour. Your mother gazes at you, a complicated look flickering through her eyes and you look away. Neither of you break the silence that settles between you and you frown, for you know that there is nothing that will change the difficulties between you.<</if>> <<elseif $chp8_4 is 2>> "What is it?" you demand, rankled by her appearance. The words leave your lips like daggers poised to strike. Your mother glances at you, her eyes widening for a moment before she looks away as though stung by the poison in your voice. You scoff as your irritation mounts, threatening to pour out of you in rage. <<if $salyraRel gt 50>>Your mother swallows visibly, her fingers clenching and unclenching against her robes. She stares at you, taking in your expression, frowing when you do not falter in your fury.<<else>>Your mother sighs, as though expecting your anger though it does not deter the flicker of hope that fills her eyes. A bitterness, like the unravelling of your hurt, unwinds until you have to look away from $mama.<</if>> <<elseif $chp8_4 is 3>> "Of course," you agree, smiling warmly. There is a softness in your tone that fills your words as you glance at $mama. She hesitates as she stares at you, her eyes running over your features before a gentle smile tugs at lips. The change in her expression is sudden and fills you with the heat of the sun, warming you until you are reminded of a childhood before $mama left. <<if $salyraRel gt 50>>It has been a difficult journey and discovering $mama has only left you yearning for the time you have lost together. You smile, grateful that you are not so alone as you once believed you were.<<else>>$mama gazes at you as though surprised by your warm acceptance of her. You cannot deny that reuniting with $mama after all these years has been difficult, but you find that you do not have the strength to muster any anger, not anymore.<</if>> <<elseif $chp8_4 is 4>> You walk past her without a response, for there is nothing you wish to hear from her. Your breathing quickens and a bead of sweat rolls down the nape of your neck. It is difficult to make sense of her words or the turmoil that mounts inside of you until you are certain that your ribs will break open, spilling the raw pain that lies within. <<if $salyraRel gt 50>>$mama stares at you, her eyes widening as your legs carry you past her. Perhaps she expected your agreement more than she did your refusal, but before you can escape her gaze, you find your mother following after you.<<else>>$mama flinches as you brush past her, refusing to respond. You glare, wanting to scream at her to leave you alone but your mother seems unwilling to accept the notion, instead, following after you.<</if>> <</if>> "You are truly leaving then, with His Highness?" she asks. Her words draw your attention and you glance at your mother. There is a crease in her forehead and the darkness of her eyes are filled with the heavy burden of concern. You cannot be certain if her concern is for you or for something far beyond your understanding. <<set $chp8_5 to 0>> [["I must accompany Prince Irus," you explain. "It is the only way to help stop the war."|chp8_6][$chp8_5 +=1]] [["If it means that I will be further away from you then I will gladly walk into the path of danger," you spit.|chp8_6][$chp8_5 +=2]] [["You should worry about your own family," you huff.|chp8_6][$chp8_5 +=3]] <<if $salyraRel gte 65>>[["There is little choice in the matter," you answer. "I must do this, even if it means leaving your side once again."|chp8_6][$chp8_5 +=4]]<</if>> <<if $irus_lock is true>>[["He means more to me than you can ever know," you breathe. "I will accompany him wherever he goes."|chp8_6][$chp8_5 +=5]]<</if>>

<<if $chp8_5 is 1>> "I must accompany Prince Irus," you explain. "It is the only way to help stop the war." The words leave you in a single breath, as though it has been squeezed from your lungs and expelled with a great force. Your journey has never been your own, not since you met Prince Irus nor since your father's death. Your eyes meet $mama's and you find that she wears an expression that is heavy with sorrow. "You are not responsible for the war, $name," $mama murmurs. "It is safer for you to remain here, with //me//." Her words are faint but in the silence of the hallway, it is nearly deafening. You swallow, staring at her with wide eyes. The years of absence has meant that you were forced to accept a life without your mother. It is a difficult notion to comprehend, knowing that now that you are reunited, your mother wants you to remain with her in Ishari. <<elseif $chp8_5 is 2>> "If it means that I will be further away from you then I will gladly walk into the path of danger," you spit. It is anger that compels you to speak harshly. Your words are like sharp jabs, slicing at your mother's features. She flinches, looking away from you as though you have offended the very deities she worships. Your fingers curl at your sides and you narrow your eyes at $mama. For years, you have longed for her return though as you glower at $mama, you realise now how foolish you were. "$name," $mama breathes. "You cannot mean that. This journey you have chosen is dangerous. It is safer for you to remain here with-" "With you?" you ask, interrupting her soft plea. A scoff escapes you. "I do not need you to protect me, $mama. You were never there when I needed you the most. Do not fool yourself into thinking that I need you now." $mama exhales sharply, turning her eyes towards the walls around you. It is as though she cannot meet your eyes and you wonder idly if it is remorse or wilful ignorance that keeps her gaze away from the past you have endured. "This war is not yours to fight, $name," she breathes. "You do not need to do more than you already have." <<elseif $chp8_5 is 3>> "You should worry about your own family," you huff. The retort is laced with bitterness but it is enough to elicit your mother's surprise. She stares at you, her eyes filling with a myriad of emotions. There is hurt, anger and beneath it all, remorse. You glare at your mother, unable to help the well of resentment within you. It coils and twists until your chest tightens painfully around your lungs. You can barely hear your heartbeat over the ragged sound of your breathing and your lips pull into a deep scowl. For most of your childhood, you were alone with Ahlf. $mama never came back for you and to know that she had a new family of her own, one where they were granted the life that was stolen from you, leaves you furious. "That is not fair, $name," $mama breathes. "I know that I cannot change what happened but I am trying. I want to be your mother but I cannot do that if you do not let me." A breath escapes you and your lips pull into a cold smile. "I do not need you to be my mother." "This war is not yours to fight," $mama retorts, her eyebrows furrowed. "How can you ask me to ignore the danger you put yourself in?" <<elseif $chp8_5 is 4>> "There is little choice in the matter," you answer. "I must do this, even if it means leaving your side once again." You are not fond of the thought that in a few days, you will be leaving the mother you have only just rediscovered. It fills you with knots of trepidation and fear. Losing your mother as a child has left you with the all-consuming fear that you are destined to lose her again. As you take in your mother's expression, noting the twisted frown and the sorrow etched deeply into her dark eyes, you know that she understands your thoughts. "You always have a choice, $name," $mama breathes. "I... I cannot bear the thought of something happening to you. I have only just found you again." A lump forms in the back of your throat and you look away, unable to meet your mother's eyes. You have been alone for so many years that it is difficult to comprehend the restlessness you feel at the thought of leaving your mother. It is as if you have been rendered a child once more, dreaming of the day when $mama would return to save you from the cruelties of Salt Bay. "Prince Irus needs me," you explain. "I will do everything that I can to end the war." Your mother sighs, glancing away. "It is not your war, $name. It never was <<elseif $chp8_5 is 5>> "He means more to me than you can ever know," you breathe. "I will accompany him wherever he goes." It is as though the thought of Prince Irus alone is enough to elicit the softness in your tone. His name is reverent on your tongue and fills your chest with a warmth that consumes you in its flames. $mama stares at you, her eyes shifting over your features and realisation fills her gaze as though she has been stricken with the knowledge that you are following your heart and not your mind. "He is an exiled prince," $mama breathes. "You must think your decisions through, $name. Following him into danger will do you no good." You frown as you gaze at your mother. Her face is pinched with concern and her fingers twist into her robes, as though if she did, she would reach out and grab you instead. You are not ignorant to the dislike your mother holds for Prince Irus, nor are you a fool enough to believe that she is not swayed by King Erlan's role in Prince Irus' upbringing. "I care about him," you murmur. "I would have thought you would understand." The pointed remark towards her relationship with Ahlf does not go unnoticed. Your mother frowns, turning away from you as though you have reminded her of something she would rather forget. "It is different," she breathes. "Your father was no exiled prince and he did not drag me into a war that was not mine to fight." <</if>><<set $chp8_6 to 0>> [["The war is one that affects us all," you retort. "I will not stand aside while others fight to end it."|chp8_7][$chp8_6 +=1]] [["You have led warriors and priestesses against the Blood Guard yet you would deny me the same opportunity?" you question.|chp8_7][$chp8_6 +=2]] [["This is something that I must do," you breathe. "Even if it means putting my life in danger. I will do what I must to end the bloodshed."|chp8_7][$chp8_6 +=3]] [["How dare you question my decision?" you demand. "You abandoned me to fight the same war that I am trying to end."|chp8_7][$chp8_6 +=4]]

<<if $chp8_6 is 1>> "The war is one that affects us all," you retort. "I will not stand aside while others fight to end it." There is a note of defiance in your voice. You stare at your mother with a heavy frown, knowing that there is nought she can do to change your decision. Her lower lip trembles and she turns away from your sight, as though stung by the words you have spoken. A breath escapes you and you stare at the side of her face, watching as she struggles to regain her composure. "You remind me of him," she whispers. Your eyebrows furrow as you try to make sense of your mother's words. You look past your mother's profile to the window behind her and, when you find no answers for what she has just said, you turn back to her, confusion clear on your face. There is a hint of desperation hidden deep within her eyes and you struggle to think about anything other than what she might mean. $mama laughs, the sound brittle and low. "You are every bit your father's $heir." <<elseif $chp8_6 is 2>> "You have led warriors and priestesses against the Blood Guard yet you would deny me the same opportunity?" you question. Your mother frowns, her lips pressing together as you watch her features settle into an expression of unwavering conviction. A breath leaves you and you look away, unable to meet her gaze. There is a bitterness about your mother's hypocrisy that seems to stab at your chest the longer you dwell on it. "I am not denying you anything," $mama reasons. "But this war does nothing but ruin people, $name. I will not stand aside and watch it ruin you." A snort of derision escapes you and you cast your mother a wry smile. The expression feels too sharp, as though at any moment, you will collapse under the weight of your mother's gaze. She watches you, frowning in concern and then, horror when the realisation that you will not heed her words dawns on her. "I have lived my entire life unable to rely on anyone but myself," you breathe. "I have seen death and war in the only home I once knew. Do not speak to me as though I am a child who knows nothing about bloodshed." <<elseif $chp8_6 is 3>> "This is something that I must do," you breathe. "Even if it means putting my life in danger. I will do what I must to end the bloodshed." You have spent the last months fearing for your life, knowing that there is only one end to your journey. The war against the Blood Guard and Virion has weighed heavily on your mind since you fled from Salt Bay. Contending with notion of death and war has been something you had to do, for if you turn away now, you know that it will only bring more harm to those around you. $mama stares at you, fear and turmoil in her eyes and beneath it all, concern. She looks away from you, her fingers tightening in the cotton of her robes and she lets out a stilted breath. The sound draws your attention to her features and for a moment, she looks as tired as she must truly feel. You were born after the war began and it would seem that no matter what has happened in the years since then, nothing has stopped the Blood Guard from terrorising innocents in the name of their dead king. "I have spent my life trying to stop this war, $name," $mama murmurs. "It is a heavy burden to continue with the will to fight. I do not wish for you to have to face the same strife that I do." You frown. "I have faced far worse and come out alive, $mama." <<elseif $chp8_6 is 4>> "How dare you question my decision?" you demand. "You abandoned me to fight the same war that I am trying to end." The words are venomous on your tongue, burning down your throat as though fire gathers in your mouth, ready to swallow your mother whole. She flinches under your glare and turns away at the sight of your scowl. Your breathing is uneven and you swallow a hard lump as bitterness fills the empty space in your chest. "I never abandoned you. I did what I had to-" "To protect me?" you scoff. "All you did was condemn me to a life of hardship and pain." Your mother's brows furrow, a line creasing the skin of her forehead as she stares at you in confusion. A grunt of frustration escapes your mouth and you turn away from her stare, uncertain if she has chosen ignorance in favour of facing the truth of the the hardships you encountered as a child. "$name, I never meant to hurt you," $mama mumbles, her eyes suddenly watery. You turn away, unable to face her gaze. "And yet, you did." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_8]]

A thick silence settles over the emptiness between you and $mama. It is heavy and drags at your shoulders. The unease of you going against your mother's wishes is a burden that seems to weigh far heavier on your mother than it does upon you. There have been days when you would have given anything to have seen her again and now that you have been reunited, it is //you// who will be leaving. Knowing this fills you with... <<set $chp8_8 to 0>> [[...sadness. You will miss being with your mother so soon after finding her.|chp8_9][$chp8_8 +=1]] [[...relief. You long to leave Ishari for seeing your mother with her new family brings you complicated feelings.|chp8_9][$chp8_8 +=2]] [[...dread. You are worried about what awaits you and the urge to cling to your mother as you did as a child, is strong.|chp8_9][$chp8_8 +=3]] [[...indifference. There is nothing about your mother's presence that affects your decision in leaving.|chp8_9][$chp8_8 +=4]]

<<if $chp8_8 is 1>> The longing in your chest threatens to devour you until there is nothing but grief left in its wake. You swallow, the threat of tears burning behind your eyes until you can no longer look at $mama. There is little you can do to prevent the the impending absence you know that you will feel when you depart for the Southern Islands. $mama gazes at you with a soft look in her eyes, the expression caught between sorrow and pain. You open your mouth to speak, but no sound escapes your parted lips. It is as though you have been reduced to the child you once were, staring out at the sea in search of the mother who left you in her bid to keep you safe. <<elseif $chp8_8 is 2>> Seeing $mama with Rana and Danzor has only left you reeling with the thoughts of what you could never have. She has a new family and all you have are the memories of what your bereft childhood felt like. There had been little warmth in the confines of Salt Bay and your father had proven to lack what $mama offered when you were afraid - //comfort//. It is difficult to know what to do with the emotions that swirl within you, competing for attention. There is hurt and anguish, but beneath it all, there is relief. You long for the day that you will be free from the sight of your mother and her new family, for you do not know if you could endure the hurt of seeing her with them any longer. <<elseif $chp8_8 is 3>> You are not ignorant to the knowledge that your life has been one of little experience beyond the borders of Salt Bay. The months you spent outside of Cyre has opened your eyes to the world beyond the Blood Guard and the hatred for those with the heritage of Ishari in their veins. With the discovery of the wonders beyond Cyre, you have also become aware of the horrors that await you. As you gaze at $mama, your chest tightens with worry and fear. You are suddenly a terrified child once more, wanting to clutch to $mama for all eternity. There has been too much death and bloodshed already and you cannot help the sliver of dread that causes your breath to stutter in the back of your throat. <<elseif $chp8_8 is 4>> Your childhood has hardened your heart to the presence of your mother. Since fleeing Salt Bay, you have made many decisions, some which have caused you more hurt than others but they were your decisions to make. Perhaps once, when you still longed for $mama and her warm comfort, you might have considered her thoughts about your choices. But now, there is little about your mother that affects your reasoning. You have been alone for longer than you have spent with $mama and despite her presence in your life again, you will not be swayed by her words. The thought fills you with a hollow numbness. It spreads through the tips of your fingers until there is nothing inside your mind but the tiredness of travelling for too long. <</if>> A breath escapes you and the sound is enough to pierce through the tension between you and $mama. She glances at you, her eyes flickering with sadness as they roam over your features. Neither of you speak and it takes you a moment to realise that there is little to be said. Your decision has been made and nothing $mama says can change your mind. "I will miss you dearly," $mama whispers. "I will pray to Ehulla to guide you safely on your journey, $name." You open your mouth to respond, but $mama turns away first. She casts you a final look before she strides down the hallway, leaving you alone once more. You sigh, running a hand over your face as you turn away from the thoughts of your mother. [[Next.|chp8_10]]

You descend the temple's stairs, making your way to the main chamber. Heat, like a sweltering blanket, causes your skin to itch and you tug at your tunic. It sticks uncomfortably to your back and you suddenly find yourself longing for the cooler breezes of Salt Bay. The thought comes unbidden and leaves you... <<set $chp8_10 to 0>> [[...confused. You never liked Salt Bay.|chp8_11][$chp8_10 +=1]] [[...wistful. Despite the hardships you endured, you cannot deny the allure of Salt Bay's quietness.|chp8_11][$chp8_10 +=2]] [[...frustrated. No matter how far you travel, it seems that you can never escape your past in Salt Bay.|chp8_11][$chp8_10 +=3]] [[...grief-stricken. Salt Bay only reminds you of Ahlf and the sacrifice he made to save you.|chp8_11][$chp8_10 +=4]]

<<if $chp8_10 is 1>> You never particularly enjoyed your life in Salt Bay. The stares and hushed whispers had left you an outsider in the only home you had ever known. Your thoughts rush over each other, trying to make sense of the sudden longing for Salt Bay, but you are only left with more confusion than before. A breath escapes you and you shake your head, trying to rid your mind of the thoughts. Perhaps it is nothing more than a yearning for a reprieve from the insufferable heat of Urur. You refuse to think more on the matter for you fear the sudden pang in your chest resembles nostalgia for the place that never accepted you. <<elseif $chp8_10 is 2>> Beyond the glares and insults of those who lived in Salt Bay, you cannot deny that there had been a beauty in the glimmering blue of the seas. You cannot recall a time that had been more peaceful than when you would sit atop the hill, the lonely cottage behind you as you gazed at the horizon beyond the shores. There has been few moments of that same peace since you fled Salt Bay and you wonder if the hamlet has recovered from the night of carnage and destruction that the Blood Guard caused. A shaky breath escapes you and you try to push away the memories of that night, not wanting to ruin the brief moments of joy of Salt Bay. <<elseif $chp8_10 is 3>> A bitter smile tugs at the corner of your lips until you are certain that your grin must appear feral. You swallow a hard lump, feeling it press painfully against the back of your throat. It would seem that the memories and thoughts of Salt Bay will never leave you. The hurt of others' ridicule and the pointed stares linger in the back of your mind, even as you stand in the heat of Urur. You were foolish to believe that escaping Salt Bay would free you from the pain of your childhood and the life you endured. No matter how many seas you travel and how many paths you cross, you will always be marred by the memories of Salt Bay. <<elseif $chp8_10 is 4>> A hollow ache spreads through you like a chill. You shiver despite the heat and realise with a startle that your fingers tremble at your sides. You press your fingers into your palm, willing your hands to remain still but it is far more difficult to do than simply wishing it so. Memories of your father tug at your thoughts. You think about his gruff exterior and the seldom moments of kindness he offered you throughout your life in Salt Bay. He is gone now and you frown, glancing down at where your feet meet the hard floor. Salt Bay will forever be connected to your past and with it, it will always bring back memories of Ahlf. You struggle to bury the thoughts, feeling them wind around your mind with grief and anguish. <</if>> "$name?" The sound of your name draws you from your thoughts and you look up, finding Sir Oren. He casts you a concerned look but you force away your emotions and in return, the expression on Sir Oren's face eases into a small smile. "Captain," you reply. "Is everything alright?" Sir Oren nods. "I was on my way to find you. We are discussing the preparations for our depature. Come, we are gathered in one of the inner gardens." [[Next.|chp8_12]]

Sir Oren's strides are long, though he seems to purposefully slow down his pace for your benefit. His eyes dart to you, the hazel glimmers of his irises etched with an unspoken worry. It has been that way since your collapse all those weeks ago, with the others often looking at you as though you are made of brittle glass, close to shattering. You walk in silence for some time but when Sir Oren casts you another concerned look, you let out a weary breath. <<set $chp8_12 to 0>> [["I am quite well, Captain," you explain. "There is no need to look so worried about me."|chp8_13][$chp8_12 +=1, $orenRel +=5]] [["If you keep looking at me like that, I might start taking offense," you huff.|chp8_13][$chp8_12 +=2, $orenRel +=5]] [["I am not incapacitated," you mutter. "Stop looking at me like that."|chp8_13][$chp8_12 +=3, $orenRel -=5]] <<if $orenRom gte 70>> [[♡"You need not be so concerned about me, Sir Oren," you murmur, warming under his glances.|chp8_13][$chp8_12 +=4, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5, $shy_oren +=5]] [[♡"I am flattered by your gaze," you tease. "Perhaps later, I can give you more than just fleeting glimpses."|chp8_13][$chp8_12 +=5, $orenRel +=5, $orenRom +=5, $bold_oren +=5]] <</if>>

<<if $chp8_12 is 1>> "I am quite well, Captain," you explain. "There is no need to look so worried about me." Your words summon a smile to Sir Oren's face and he turns to look at you, a genuine warmth in his eyes. The sight sears itself into your mind and your lips quirk into a reflection of his expression. He glances away a moment later, his steps languid and his posture looser than it had been minutes ago. "I apologise, $name," Sir Oren replies. "You are right, of course." You nudge his shoulder with your own, the gesture drawing out a startled laugh from Sir Oren. The sound is deep, a rich baritone that fills your ears with an easy sincerity. It is enough to dispel the stiffness in the air and you walk alongside each other in an easy familiarity. "Thank you for caring," you murmur, after a moment of quiet. Sir Oren glances at you, his smile widening. "There is no need to thank me for caring, $name. You are my friend." <<elseif $chp8_12 is 2>> "If you keep looking at me like that, I might start taking offence," you huff. The rebuke leaves your lips in a single breath, drawing a frown from Sir Oren. He glances at you, his forehead creasing as his eyebrows weigh heavily over his hazel eyes. You look away from his gaze, unwilling to to accept his concern for you. There is little need for Sir Oren's fussing and after a moment of heavy silence, he lets out a breath. "I meant no offence, $name," Sir Oren murmurs. "Forgive me if I have overstepped." You lift your shoulder in a shrug as you continue to walk beside him. Neither of you speak for a moment, the quiet hanging in the air between you as settles over your shoulders and neck. It is never an easy thing to accept Sir Oren's concern for you. Your childhood hardened you against kindness and having it thrust upon you leaves you unnerved. "I hope you understand that I am here for you if you wish to talk about what happened," Sir Oren explains. "We all care about you, $name." You swallow, managing a simple nod as your eyes focus on anything but Sir Oren's expression. Reasoning with him seems to be futile, for no matter how much you protest, it would seem that Sir Oren is unwilling to abandon his concern for you. <<elseif $chp8_12 is 3>> "I am not incapacitated," you mutter. "Stop looking at me like that." The words are sharp on your tongue and sound harsh as they leave your tongue. Sir Oren stiffens, his eyebrows pressing together as he avoids your glare. You are rattled by his concern and more than that, you are infuriated by it. The hurt and losses you have endured only served to harden your resolve. You are not nearly as incapable as Sir Oren seems to believe. "I did not mean to stare at you," Sir Oren mumbles. His hand runs over the back of his neck. "I apologise, $name." Your teeth press together, tightly clenched as though it will be enough to stop the bitter scoff that threatens to leave your lips. It has been years since you were treated like a child and now that you are no longer in Salt Bay, it would seem that those around you cannot see you for person you were forced to become. "I do not need your apologies," you mutter. "You only need treating me as if I am in need of protection." Sir Oren's lips press into a thin line. "It is my duty to protect those under Her Majesty's care." Your eyes narrow as your fingernails bite into your palms. There is venom in your heart and it surges forth, spilling from your lips. "I do not need your //care//. I do not need anyone's concern." <<elseif $chp8_12 is 4>> "You need not be so concerned about me, Sir Oren," you murmur, warming under his glances. A gentle feeling of warmth, the softness of the sun, consumes you until you cannot look away from the handsomeness of Sir Oren's face. He is kinder to you than you could ever deserve, but it is the same kindness that sends a surge of heat across your cheeks. His dark brows arch and soften against his forehead as he looks at you, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I will always worry about you, $name," he responds. "You are important to me." Your stomach tumbles in excitement at his admission and you look away, suddenly aware that you have been staring at him for far too long. You do not meet his gaze, afraid that if you do, he will see the effect of his proximity to you. His hand brushes against the back of yours and you nearly stumble, a searing jolt spreading through your skin. The touch lingers for longer than necessary before you pull your hand back with an embarrassed flush. "I... you are important to me too." Sir Oren smiles and the sight of it is enough to steal the breath in your lungs. Your heartbeat quickens, the deafening sound ringing through your ears as you gaze at the gentleness of Sir Oren's expression. "Then allow me to fret every now and then, $name," he breathes. "It would make me happier than you know." <<elseif $chp8_12 is 5>> "I am flattered by your gaze," you tease. "Perhaps later, I can give you more than just fleeting glimpses." Your words elicit a surprised sound from Sir Oren, his words stumbling into incoherence as his cheeks grow red under your gaze. Tilting your head, you gaze at him, grinning widely when he is unable to meet your stare. It is nearly too easy to make him blush, though you cannot deny that you are drawn to him and his gentleness. "I... ah..." Sir Oren stammers, his face as red as embers. "Are you struggling to form words, Captain, or has the idea of doing more than just looking captured your thoughts?" Your tone is teasing, but not harsh. The smile you give him is filled with affection rather than amusement. When his cheeks become even more flushed, you laugh softly before offering him your hand. He seems hesitant to take it, but finally, he does. Gently squeezing the back of his palm, your thumb brushes against his knuckles. As you gaze upon the way his fingers curl around yours, you realize they are beautiful, even if the callouses along the edge of each finger make them rough. "Thank you for caring about me, Captain. Many have not been as kind as you have been," you breathe. Sir Oren stares at you, his gaze unwavering despite the redness of his cheeks. "You need not thank me, $name. I will always care for you." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_14]]

Sir Oren's steps slow as he leads you towards a stone archway. Its design is simple and you run a finger over its rough texture, feeling the coldness of its surface seep into your skin. As your eyes shift over the archway, you notice the sliver of green against the sandy brown, beyond its threshold. <<if $chp7_4 gte 2>>The sight of the garden summons the memory of your mother and the family she created in Ishari. It tugs at your thoughts until you find it difficult to focus on those already gathered in the enclosed garden of the temple.<<else>>The sight of the garden is a surprising thing, filled with green vines and trees that bear flowers of bright reds and oranges. You breathe in the sweet scent, noticing the rest of your companions gathered beneath the shade of the trees.<</if>> You quickly discard your thoughts as you step into the garden, moving to stand beside... <<set $chp8_14 to 0>> [[...Prince Irus.|chp8_15][$chp8_14 +=1]] [[...Queen Elora.|chp8_15][$chp8_14 +=2]] [[...Anu.|chp8_15][$chp8_14 +=3]] [[...Sir Oren.|chp8_15][$chp8_14 +=4]]

<<if $chp8_14 is 1>> Prince Irus glances at you as you take your place beside him. His eyes seem to rival the hue of the sky beyond the trellis that serves as a makeshift roof to the inner garden. <<if $irus_lock is true>>His lips tug into a smile that threatens to become a smirk and you shiver, suddenly unable to look at anyone else but him.<<elseif $irusRel gte 75>>He grins at you and the sincerity in his gaze is enough to put you at ease and you find yourself returning the expression.<<else>>It must be familiarity by now that draws you to Prince Irus. You have travelled together for months and you cannot deny that his presence has become a constant thing in your life.<</if>> <<elseif $chp8_14 is 2>> Queen Elora's dark eyes find yours as you approach her. She wears a loose tunic and rough-sewn trousers that brush her ankles. <<if $elora_lock is true>>As your gaze meets hers, you find that you can no longer look away. Your heart thunders beneath your chest and Queen Elora must hear it because her lips pull into a pleased smile.<<elseif $eloraRel gte 70>>The sight of Queen Elora is enough to fill you with an easy warmth. Her friendship has been one that you have come to rely upon and by the way she gazes at you, you know that she feels the same.<<else>>Out of all your companions, Queen Elora has proven to be the most level-headed and cunning. It is a natural thing then to take your place at her side.<</if>> <<elseif $chp8_14 is 3>> You did not expect to see Anu amongst the familiar faces of your companions and when her grey eyes meet yours, you are reminded of everything that has happened between you. <<if $anuRom gte 60>>The slight tug at Anu's mouth draws your attention to her lips. She notices your gaze and the smile grows wider until you are forced to look away, lest you be caught gawking.<<elseif $anuRel gte 65>>Anu has proven to be a reliable companion and perhaps more than that, she has proven to be a loyal friend. Her smile is gentle as you take your place beside her, a sharp contrast to her usual gruffness.<<else>>Anu glances at you with a raised eyebrow, but you ignore the look she casts you. You may not be great friends, but even you understand that she is stronger than the others.<</if>> <<elseif $chp8_14 is 4>> Sir Oren strides towards Queen Elora and moves to stand a few paces from her. Despite walking with him through the hallways of the temple, you have yet to tire of his presence. <<if $orenRom gte 65>>A soft smile spills across Sir Oren's expression as you move to stand beside him and you cannot help but return it.<<elseif $orenRel gte 70>>Grinning at you, Sir Oren seems pleased when you move to join him where he stands. You return the smile, grateful for his calming presence.<<else>>There is a sense of duty about Sir Oren that draws you to his side. You know that if something were to happen, he would be able to keep you safe.<</if>> <</if>> "It is good that you joined us," Queen Elora murmurs, glancing at you. "The preparations for our voyage are nearly complete." The others around you nod in agreement, though your eyes stray to Anu. She is a priestess and a warrior of Ehulla and you cannot help but question her presence with the rest of your companions. As though sensing your stare, her eyes flicker towards your face. Her eyebrow lifts as she gazes at you, the darkness of her grey irises piercing you in their inspection. <<if $chp7_25D is true>>When you last spoke to Anu, it had been after your collapse. Since that night, she has been difficult to find in the throngs of priestesses and you cannot help the lingering question in the back of your mind. Has she been avoiding you? <<if $chp7_anukiss is true>>It is difficult to know how to feel, not when you can still feel the press of her lips against yours and you have to remind yourself to stop staring.<</if>><<else>>Anu has been avoiding you since the day of your collapse and you wonder if it it remorse or perhaps nonchalance that has made her scarce.<</if>> "What?" she asks. <<set $chp8_15 to 0>> [["I did not realise that you would be joining us," you admit, glancing at her curiously.|chp8_16][$chp8_15 +=1]] [["I am glad to see that you are here," you respond, smiling warmly.|chp8_16][$chp8_15 +=2, $anuRel +=5]] [["You must be here to report back to the other priestesses," you mutter, casting Anu a glare.|chp8_16][$chp8_15 +=3, $anuRel -=5]] <<if $anuRom gte 60 and $relationship is false>> [[♡"Oh..." you mumble, flustered by the intensity of her gaze. "It is nothing."|chp8_16][$chp8_15 +=4, $anuRel +=5, $anuRom +=5, $shy_anu +=5]] [[♡"Careful," you tease, smirking at Anu. "I might just start believing that you are following me."|chp8_16][$chp8_15 +=5, $anuRel +=5, $anuRom +=5, $bold_anu +=5]]<</if>>

<<if $chp8_15 is 1>> "I did not realise that you would be joining us," you admit, glancing at her curiously. The words leave your lips as soon as they slip into your mind. You watch with furrowed brows as Anu's expression shifts from one of annoyance to confusion before an amused breath escapes her lips. Anu shifts her weight from one leg to the other, her eyes glinting in the sunlight. "Why is that, $name? Our alliance is of mutual importance to both our realms," Anu responds. "I will not sit idly while your //prince// seeks more allies." You glance at Prince Irus and note the strange look in his blue gaze. When he catches you looking at him, he offers you a shrug but does not elaborate on Anu's words. Turning to the others, you notice similar expressions on their faces. It would appear that Anu will be joining your voyage, though it would seem that not all approve. <<elseif $chp8_15 is 2>> "I am glad to see that you are here," you respond, smiling warmly. The sincerity in your tone seems to catch Anu by surprise. She stiffens beside you, her eyes widening before she ducks her face. The faint smile across her lips is the only response she seems willing to give but the softness in her eyes does not escape your notice. "Someone needs to be ready for an attack," Anu huffs. Queen Elora glances at Anu, his lips twisting into a frown. She appears as though she wishes to respond to Anu, but a sharp look from Sir Oren seems to silence her. As you cast a look at the faces of your companions, you come to the realisation that not all are content with Anu's decision to join you on your voyage. <<elseif $chp8_15 is 3>> "You must be here to report back to the other priestesses," you mutter, casting Anu a glare. Your words elicit a sneer from Anu and she turns to glower at you. Despite the hardness of her stare, you do not cower from her thinly veiled rage. The alliance that Prince Irus secured with Princess Lamahu has done nothing to solidify trust between your companions and the residents of Ishari. "And what if I do?" Anu demands. "You expect the people of Ishari to throw their support behind your prince without questioning his actions?" "We have an alliance," you reply. Anu snorts. "And what good is an alliance when you are your lot are making all the decisions?" Your lips press into a thin line and you cast a look towards the rest of your companions. Queen Elora meets your gaze and a silent understanding seems to pass between you. It would appear that not all are eager for Anu to join the voyage, but the decision caanot be changed now. <<elseif $chp8_15 is 4>> "Oh..." you mumble, flustered by the intensity of her gaze. "It is nothing." Anu must see the change in your expression the moment your voice betrays the nervousness that seeps into your words. You avert your eyes from Anu's gaze, unable to withstand the intensity of her grey eyes and terrified that you might say something you would rather keep buried deep within your thoughts. "Nothing?" Anu asks, her tone warmer than you expected it to sound. "I thought that you would be excited to learn that I shall be accompanying you, $name." Your eyes widen and you look at Anu. It is difficult to swallow for your mouth is too dry and your breathing too sharp. You wonder for a moment if she can hear the way her proximity affects your heartbeat. It thrums beneath your chest, as though your bones and muscle had trapped a bird ready to soar from the confines of your heart. "That is not true," you breathe. "I am grateful to have you joining us." A smirk pulls at Anu's lips and she raises an eyebrow at you. "Keep speaking like that and I might be tempted to tease you more, my sweet." <<elseif $chp8_15 is 5>> "Careful," you tease, smirking at Anu. "I might just start believing that you are following me." Your words draw a smug expression from Anu. It is a languid glance of her grey eyes and the tug of her lips that suggests something more than amusement. You smile wider at her, meeting her gaze and basking in the intensity of her expression. A delicious thrill of anticipation runs down your spine and you turn towards her, daring her to contradict you. "Perhaps I am," Anu replies, her grey eyes shifting over your features. "What would you say to that?" Her admission elicits a breath from you. There is a sincerity in her face that had been absent only moments earlier and you find that it is enough to conjure a surge of heat in your chest. Your eyes take in the mischievous expression on Anu's face and for a moment, you forget about the others around you. "I would say that I am looking forward to when you do more than just follow me from afar," you murmur. Anu leans closer. You can smell the cloves on her breath and feel the warmth of her skin. She grins at you, all pretenses of jesting and amusement now replaced with something far hungrier. "Oh, I assure you that it will be worth your while," Anu promises. <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_17]]

Your thoughts about Anu are soon interrupted when Queen Elora speaks. Her voice is soft, but it is no less commanding as she steps forward. You turn to look at the young queen and you are suddenly reminded of the war and the task that awaits you. During your time in Ishari, you have become aware that the days until the inevitable war has grown smaller. "I have received a missive from Lord Redall," Queen Elora explains. "He believes that the escaped prisoners have made their way to Hadi. It is only a matter of time before Virion learns of Iri's presence here in Urur." "He can try attacking us, but we will be ready," Anu spits. You glance at Prince Irus and find that there is a resolute look in his gaze. His hands curl into fists at his sides, but he does not voice his thoughts to those around you. Queen Elora continues to speak and you force yourself to turn to her, knowing that there will be little time to prepare afterwards for your journey. "That may be so, but we are in need of more allies," Queen Elora states. "The Nomad Tribes are excellent seafarers and without our own fleet, we will be defenceless in the sea. We will need the aid of the Southern Islands." Memories of the night Lord Redall's barge was attacked fill your mind. You swallow a sharp breath, remembering those who were killed and the ferocity of the Nomad Tribe. <<set $chp8_17 to 0>><<set $chp8_17a to false>><<set $chp8_17b to false>><<set $chp8_17c to false>><<set $chp8_17d to false>> [["Does Vinia not have a fleet of its own?" you ask, glancing at Queen Elora.|chp8_18a][$chp8_17 +=1, $chp8_17a to true]] [["Why are we seeking aid from the Southern Islands?" you question.|chp8_18b][$chp8_17 +=1, $chp8_17b to true]] [["Will the city of Urur be safe if we leave?" you query, thinking about the Ishari people who were recently freed.|chp8_18c][$chp8_17 +=1, $chp8_17c to true]] [["Who will we be meeting in the Southern Islands?" you inquire.|chp8_18d][$chp8_17 +=1, $chp8_17d to true]]

"Does Vinia not have a fleet of its own?" you ask, glancing at Queen Elora. When Lord Redall's barge was attacked, it was Queen Elora and Sir Oren who found you. They had sailed on a much larger ship, one that you know would prove valuable in the war against the Nomad Tribe sailors. Yet, as you take in Queen Elora's expression, noting the way that her forehead creases and her lips press together, you realise that is far more complicated. "We have ships, yes," Queen Elora answers. She hesitates, as though struggling to find the words. "We have only a few that are equipped for war, $name. But with Virion's arrival in Vinia, I must think about my people too. Leaving them undefended against the Nomad Tribe is something I cannot do." Sir Oren glances at you and then, towards Prince Irus with an apologetic expression. "We will lend as many of our ships as we can, but it will not be nearly enough to defeat the Nomad Tribe sailors." <<if $chp8_17 lt 4>> <<if $chp8_17b is false>>[["Why are we seeking aid from the Southern Islands?" you question.|chp8_18b][$chp8_17 +=1, $chp8_17b to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp8_17c is false>>[["Will the city of Urur be safe if we leave?" you query, thinking about the Ishari people who were recently freed.|chp8_18c][$chp8_17 +=1, $chp8_17c to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp8_17d is false>>[["Who will we be meeting in the Southern Islands?" you inquire.|chp8_18d][$chp8_17 +=1, $chp8_17d to true]]<</if>> <<else>>[[Next.|chp8_19]]<</if>>

"Why are we seeking aid from the Southern Islands?" you question. <<if $codeSouthernIsland is true>>You remember what you discovered about the Southern Islands and its leader, Sovereign Rabiah when you had helped Prince Irus prepare for the banquet. Though from what you can remember, the Southern Islands never seemed to engage in any external wars.<<else>>You do not know much about the Southern Islands, only that they are renowned traders and seafarers. You cannot help but wonder if the aid they offer will prove useful in the war against Virion and the Blood Guard.<</if>> "The Southern Islands have excellent ship builders," Queen Elora explains. "It is also my mother's birthplace. I am hopeful that they will answer the call to aid us in the war." Prince Irus glances at you, his blue eyes determined. "We need more fighters and a fleet that can defend attacks from the Nomad Tribe sailors. The Southern Islands has wealth and ships, $name. I cannot risk the lives of more innocents without first trying to secure more alliances." You nod, aware that the only aid you have managed to secure is from Queen Elora and Princess Lamahu. Though, you are not ignorant that both rulers will likely prioritise their own nations against attacks. Prince Irus is right. You will need more allies than you have if you wish to defeat the Blood Guard. <<if $chp8_17 lt 4>> <<if $chp8_17a is false>>[["Does Vinia not have a fleet of its own?" you ask, glancing at Queen Elora.|chp8_18a][$chp8_17 +=1, $chp8_17a to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp8_17c is false>>[["Will the city of Urur be safe if we leave?" you query, thinking about the Ishari people who were recently freed.|chp8_18c][$chp8_17 +=1, $chp8_17c to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp8_17d is false>>[["Who will we be meeting in the Southern Islands?" you inquire.|chp8_18d][$chp8_17 +=1, $chp8_17d to true]]<</if>> <<else>>[[Next.|chp8_19]]<</if>>

"Will the city of Urur be safe if we leave?" you query, thinking about the Ishari people who were recently freed. You are aware of the great dangers that the people of Ishari face and you fear that when you withdraw from the city of Urur, the Blood Guard will only return to recapture the people you helped to free from the prison. Your concern must be evident in your expression because Sir Oren offers you a comforting smile. "We will not be leaving Urur undefended, $name," Sir Oren explains. "Some of the Royal Vinian Guard will remain behind to assist the warriors of Ishari against any threat from the Blood Guard." Anu casts you a sidelong glance, a frown on her lips. "The warriors are more than capable of keeping the people of Urur safe. We have done so before your arrival and we will continue to do so when you leave." You nod in response, knowing that Anu speaks the truth. Yet, learning that the Royal Vinian Guard will be aiding the warriors in the absence of you and your companions puts your mind at ease. <<if $chp8_17 lt 4>> <<if $chp8_17a is false>>[["Does Vinia not have a fleet of its own?" you ask, glancing at Queen Elora.|chp8_18a][$chp8_17 +=1, $chp8_17a to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp8_17b is false>>[["Why are we seeking aid from the Southern Islands?" you question.|chp8_18b][$chp8_17 +=1, $chp8_17b to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp8_17d is false>>[["Who will we be meeting in the Southern Islands?" you inquire.|chp8_18d][$chp8_17 +=1, $chp8_17d to true]]<</if>> <<else>>[[Next.|chp8_19]]<</if>>

"Who will we be meeting in the Southern Islands?" you inquire. <<if $codeSouthernIsland is true>>You understand that the Southern Islands was united under the reign of Sovereign Rabiah, though you are uncertain who controls the small nation now.<<else>>You do not know much of the leadership in the Southern Islands and you cannot help the sliver of curiosity that tugs at your mind.<</if>> "We will be meeting with the merchants and traders who own most of the fleets in the Southern Islands," Queen Elora explains. "What about a leader?" you ask. "Are we not seeking to secure an alliance?" Queen Elora glances away, an uneasy expression twisting her features. "Things are fare more complicated since the war began, $name. My mother has alluded to possibilities of a civil war in the south. We cannot be certain who to trust but Lord Redall has assured me that the trader we will be seeing can be swayed to our cause." <<if $chp8_17 lt 4>> <<if $chp8_17a is false>>[["Does Vinia not have a fleet of its own?" you ask, glancing at Queen Elora.|chp8_18a][$chp8_17 +=1, $chp8_17a to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp8_17b is false>>[["Why are we seeking aid from the Southern Islands?" you question.|chp8_18b][$chp8_17 +=1, $chp8_17b to true]]<</if>> <<if $chp8_17c is false>>[["Will the city of Urur be safe if we leave?" you query, thinking about the Ishari people who were recently freed.|chp8_18c][$chp8_17 +=1, $chp8_17c to true]]<</if>> <<else>>[[Next.|chp8_19]]<</if>>

With most of your questions answered, you let out a breath and glance at your companions. They wear similiar expressions of weariness and apprehension. In the bid to gather allies and stop Virion, there has been few moments to rest and with knowledge that you will soon set sail, you know that your time for preparations has ended. "When do we depart?" you ask, glancing at the faces around you. "In two days," Sir Oren answers. He offers you a look. "It will be enough time to gather what you need." You nod in understanding, the unspoken words hanging heavily in the air. It will give you enough time to prepare for your journey at sea and to say your farewells. After everything that you have encountered, you have learnt that you can never be certain of your return from sea. [[Next.|chp8_20]]

<<set $location to "The docks, Urur">><div class="timeline">The docks, Urur.</div> The days of preparation for your journey have passed quickly and you soon find yourself standing at the docks of Urur. Standing on the shore, you are reminded of your arrival only weeks before. The $gender you had been then had not known about your mother or the family she had formed in Ishari. You can only wonder what you will discover next when you return from sea. You swallow a breath, the sea spray heavy on your lips and cast your gaze over the gathered crowd. There are warriors who stand close to the docks, watching as crates are loaded onto the large ship. It is the same ship that carried Sir Oren and Queen Elora to you when you had come under attack on Lord Redall's barge. Beyond the warrriors, you catch sight of the familiar faces of your mother and Sargon. A few steps further, you notice Rana standing closely with Danzor. You will be leaving for a voyage that will last weeks. There is much that can happen and you cannot be certain when you might speak to those gathered on the shore again. <<set $chp8_goodbye to false>> [[You choose to say your farewells before you leave.|chp8_21a][$chp8_goodbye to true]] [[There is no one you would like to speak to before you embark on your journey.|chp8_21b]]

Turning, your eyes shift towards $mama and then, towards Danzor and Rana. From where you stand, you can barely make out the expressions on their faces, yet as though sensing your gaze, your mother turns to face you. She wears a simple robe of red fabric that drapes around her shoulders and along her arms, you notice the glimmer of gold bangles. Behind her, you find Rana clinging to Danzor. She is smaller than the other children her age and despite the chatter and noise around the docks, she seems apprehensive of those around her. A few paces away from your mother, your eyes take in the appearance of Sargon. His eyes are focussed on Anu as she barks orders at the warriors gathered around the ship. For a moment, you are struck by the knowledge that you never had a family to see you off before. Ahlf's life had ended before you could flee and $mama had been absent during the years of your upbringing. Perhaps, if things had been different then there would not be such a heavy ache in your chest as you stare at $mama. <<set $chp8_21a to 0>> [[You have changed your mind. You cannot bring yourself to say farewell to any of them.|chp8_21b][$chp8_goodbye to false]] [[You wish to bid farewell to your mother.|chp8_21_1]] [[You will bid Sargon farewell.|chp8_21_2]] <<if $ranaRel gte 55>>[[You will say farewell to Rana, but not to your mother or Danzor.|chp8_21_3]]<</if>>

Your eyebrows furrow as you raise your hand to shield away the sun's brightness. The air is dense on your skin and you frown, agitated by the gathered crowd who gaze as the last of the crates and supplies are hauled onto the ship. As you take in the sight of the familiar faces gathered around you, you come to the sudden realisation that there is no one you would like to bid a farewell. You turn away, instead letting your gaze travel along the large sails of the ship and the wooden gangplank that creaks under the weight of those traversing its length. Farewells are always bitter and muddied with emotions and you frown as memories of the night $mama left you fill your thoughts. The truth is... <<set $chp8_21b to 0>> [[...you have never been fond of farewells.|chp8_21b1][$chp8_21b +=1]] [[...there is no one in Ishari that you care about.|chp8_21b1][$chp8_21b +=2]] [[...you do not care about farewells and all the underlying meanings of the act.|chp8_21b1][$chp8_21b +=3]]

You have spent many years wondering what happened to $mama and now that you have finally found her again, you cannot deny there has been much more than you had been expecting. As you take in your mother's appearance, you know that no matter how you feel, you could never leave her in the way that she left you without a formal goodbye. With that thought, you make your way towards $mama. <<if $salyraRel lt 50>>As the distance closes between you and $mama, it becomes evident from her wide eyes and parted lips that she had not expected you to seek her out.<<else>>$mama smiles as you approach her, her expression shifting from one of concern to one of warmth. The sight brings memories of your childhood to your mind and you have to force down a choked gasp, stricken by the reminder.<</if>> "$name," $mama greets you. Her voice is soft, barely a whisper, but it rings loudly in your ears. "It seems as if I have only just found you again and yet, you will be leaving me all too soon." <<set $chp8_21_1 to 0>> [["I will miss you greatly," you confess, your chest tightening at the thought of leaving her.|chp8_21_1a][$chp8_21_1 +=1, $salyraRel +=5]] [["It cannot be helped," you reply, remaining impassive.|chp8_21_1a][$chp8_21_1 +=2]] [["Perhaps I will not return for another twenty years," you spit, enraged by her words.|chp8_21_1a][$chp8_21_1 +=3, $salyraRel -=5]]

Despite having known Sargon for only a few weeks, you have come to respect the old warrior. He has not treated you any differently, despite your heritage and your mother's role in the Temple of Ehulla. Walking towards Sargon, you find him leaning heavily on his walking stick with one hand and with the other, he dabs at the corners of his eyes. He straightens when he sees your approach and when he speaks, his voice is thicker than usual. "$name. Are you in need of anything?" You shake your head. "I only came to bid you farewell." Sargon's eyebrows rise against his forehead and he stares at you, as though startled by your words. You are in the midst of thinking that coming to speak to Sargon was a poor decision but the old warrior laughs, the sound enough to disperse the gnawing thoughts from your mind. "You need not have done so, $name," he replies, smiling at you. "But I am touched by your gesture. Now that you are here, perhaps it will not be too much to ask for you to watch Anu while you are away? She might not seem like it, but the journey terrifies her. It will be her first time away from Ishari." <<set $chp8_21_2 to 0>> [["Of course," you answer with a smile. "I know how difficult it is to be away from the only home you have known."|chp8_21_2a][$chp8_21_2 +=1]] [["You are a considerate father," you remark, suddenly struck by how different Sargon is to Ahlf in personality.|chp8_21_2a][$chp8_21_2 +=2]] [["I am not responsible for Anu," you huff, annoyed that Sargon is asking this of you.|chp8_21_2a][$chp8_21_2 +=3]]

Rana stands huddled closely to Danzor and you hesitate, suddenly uncertain about your decision to speak with her.<<if $chp7_4 gte 2>> When you first met Rana and Danzor, it had been difficult to know what you were feeling. Knowing that Danzor had spent more time with $mama than you ever would and that Rana had experienced a childhood that escaped you, left you with the complicated emotions of your past.<<else>> You did not choose to speak with Danzor or Rana and as you stare at them, you are struck by the knowledge that you barely know the family that has lived with your mother for years.<</if>> You glance at Rana, the half-sister you have only just discovered and see the features of $mama and Danzor in her face. She shares your blood and perhaps that means something for it is enough to urge your legs into motion and you begin to make your way towards where she stands. Danzor looks up as you approach and you catch sight of his grip on Rana tightening. You falter, suddenly aware that you are the outsider in their relationship. It would seem that perhaps coming to say farewell to your sister was not your most well-thought out decision. Turning away, you begin to walk farther from Danzor and Rana but before you can escape their gaze, you hear the patter of footsteps, too light to belong to Danzor. Turning, you find Rana trailing after you, her eyes wide as she regards you. "Will you come back?" <<set $chp8_21_3 to 0>> [["Of course I will," you answer, offering her a gentle smile.|chp8_21_3a][$chp8_21_3 +=1, $ranaRel +=5]] [["I shall bring you back a present. What would you like?" you ask, grinning at her.|chp8_21_3a][$chp8_21_3 +=2, $ranaRel +=5]] [["I cannot say," you state, frowning. "It will depend if there is anything worth returning to when this is all over."|chp8_21_3a][$chp8_21_3 +=3, $ranaRel -=5]]

<<if $chp8_21_1 is 1>> "I will miss you greatly," you confess, your chest tightening at the thought of leaving her. There is a tremor in your voice as the words leave your lips. You swallow, suddenly unable to breathe as you gaze at $mama. Heartache and grief threaten to drown the thoughts in your mind with memories of the night that $mama left you in Salt Bay. You wonder if this is what she must have felt that night when she left you with Ahlf. "Oh my Sweetling," $mama gasps, suddenly gripping your hands between her palms. Her skin is warm against your fingers and despite the time you have spent apart, the feel of it is familiar. You exhale sharply, allowing your eyes to take in your joined hands and for a brief moment, it is as though no time has passed at all between you. "$mama-" "I will miss you terribly, $name," $mama interrupts. "Return to me safely, hm?" You swallow down the hard lump in the back of your throat and manage a nod. $mama smiles at you, the gentleness of the expression reaching her eyes. You do not know how long you stare at her, only that when she withdraws her hold, it is as though you have been left unmoored to the shore. <<elseif $chp8_21_1 is 2>> "It cannot be helped," you reply, remaining impassive. The words feel like stones in your mouth, rough and grainy as you speak. You stare at your mother, noting as her eyebrows furrow and then, as her forehead creases when she does not find what she seems to have been looking for in your expression. "I see," $mama murmurs. A weighted silence descends upon you and you look away, suddenly uncertain of how to break through the hard and rocky walls between you. //When did talking to $mama become this difficult?// You wonder if this is how your father felt when talking to you as a child, but you force away the thought as soon as it slips into your mind. "I suppose this is farewell then," you sigh. $mama stares at you, her eyes suddenly watery and her lips trembling. You frown, terrified that she might begin to weep and beg you to remain behind, but your fear goes unfulfilled and instead, $mama looks down at her hands. When she speaks, her voice is resolute and her expression has shifted into one that you cannot decipher. "Farewell, $name," she murmurs. "I hope that this journey is one that will serve us all well." <<elseif $chp8_21_1 is 3>> "Perhaps I will not return for another twenty years," you spit, enraged by her words. The barb leaves your mouth in a hurried tone and latches onto your mother. Her eyes widen at your words and for a moment, she does nothing but stare at you. You do not know what it is about her expression that angers you further, but her silence is not what you had hoped for when you lashed out at her. Your breathing quickens and your pulse pounds in your ears. For years, you never knew what became of $mama. You yearned for her comfort - desperate to be with her again only to discover her new family and life in Ishari. Her gall to be upset about you leaving is enough to fill your mouth with the bitterness of your fury. "That is not fair," $mama breathes, after a moment. "I... I could not-" "You could," you interrupt. "You could have sent me to Vinia. You could have taken me with you. You could have come back. But you did none of that and abandoned me when I needed you the most." "$name-" "No," you mutter. "Stop. I do not care for your feelings or that you never meant to hurt me. It matters not when you have already hurt me more than a mother should ever hurt their $heir." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_21_1b]]

$mama opens her mouth to speak, but the words never make it past her lips for the sailors call out for those who are leaving to board the ship. You turn to stare at the wooden vessel that will carry you through the seas, taking you farther away from Isahri and your mother and you know that there is nothing more than you can say to her. "I must go," you state. As you turn from your mother, you think you hear her speak but whatever she says, it is too faint to understand. You hesitate and glance at her, but she only offers you a nod and you find yourself walking towards the gangplank of the ship, uncertain and perplexed. [[Next.|chp8_22]]

As you board the deck of the ship, the familiar sense that you have done this before settles over your shoulders. The memories of your departure from Aspal return to you in fleeting images. You remember the family you left behind and the kindness you experienced in the city of Aspal. For a while, your life had not seemed nearly as difficult then as it did now. A breeze brushes against your face and you swallow the salty sting of the sea against your lips. You turn and stare down at the faces against the docks but there is only one person who seems to command your attention - $mama. Her face is unreadable and yet, the longer you gaze at her, the more difficult it becomes to tear your attention away. Her eyes flicker brightly and your breathing hitches, the hairs on the back of your neck rising until you can no longer hear anything but the deafening roar in your skull. She offers you a smile and like a riverbank collapsing under the weight of its contents, you gasp, spluttering as your fingers tighten around the ship's railing. The sensation passes within moments of your realising it had even happened and with it the image of $mama fades to the edges of your vision, the world coming into focus once again. Whatever it was that you experienced, you know it will fade once you are out at sea. [[Next.|chp8_23]]

<<if $chp8_21_2 is 1>> "Of course," you answer with a smile. "I know how difficult it is to be away from the only home you have known." Fleeing Salt Bay had been the first time you had ever ventured beyond the confines of your home without either one of your parents. You know how difficult and jarring the experience can be, to leave the only place you have ever known. Glancing in the direction of Anu, you are surprised to learn that similar to you, she has never stepped beyond the borders of Ishari. "Thank you, $name," Sargon responds. He follows your gaze towards Anu, wearing a fond smile on his lips. "She is a headstrong woman, but I cannot deny that I worry about her as if she was still the young girl I took in." "Anu will be alright," you murmur. "She seems far more prepared to leave than I had been." Sargon turns to stare at you, his eyebrows furrowing as he takes in your words. You meet his gaze, finding only confusion in his gaze. He pauses, as if studying your expression and finding something that you are uncertain that you possess. "You are far more courageous than any person I know, $name," Sargon breathes. "Preparations are good, but you have overcome much more than many of us have in our lives. Be proud of what you have accomplished." You open your mouth but find that you lack the words to voice your feelings. A wave of gratitude spreads through you and you manage a small nod, offering Sargon a smile. The corners of his eyes crinkle as he returns the expression and you are suddenly pleased that you chose to bid him farewell. <<elseif $chp8_21_2 is 2>> "You are a considerate father," you remark, suddenly struck by how different Sargon is to Ahlf in personality. It is difficult to swallow a full breath and you stare at Sargon, reminded once more like you had been in Vinia that your relationship with Ahlf had been different to the relationship that Anu or even Zikar have with theirs. Would life have been easier if your father had been far more open with his affection for you? Perhaps if he had, your childhood would not have felt so lonely. Sargon smiles, but there is a deep sadness in his eyes as he glances to where Anu stands. When he speaks, his voice is tinged with the heaviness of remorse. "I do not think I am," he murmurs. "When I took in Anu, I knew nothing about minding children. She was young then and vulnerable. I fear that sometimes I was never enough for her. I have always been a soldier before I was her father." You are reminded then of Ahlf's role in the war and the Blood Guard that once followed his command. For years, you never knew about your father's past and yet, he still treated you with far less emotion than Sargon seems to openly share with Anu. There is a twisting ache in your chest and you do not know whether it is envy or grief. "She is fortunate to have someone like you," you murmur. Sargon glances at you. Perhaps he must sense your thoughts for he offers you a gentle smile. "You are fortunate too to have such caring friends, $name. We are not all given the family we need but that matters not when you are surrounded by those who care for you." <<elseif $chp8_21_2 is 3>> "I am not responsible for Anu," you huff, annoyed that Sargon is asking this of you. There is sliver of hostility in your tone and a bitter resentment that fills your words with anger. A breath escapes you and you run a hand over your face, trying to force down the rage that threatens to consume your thoughts. Are you expected to watch over everyone around you, with no concern for yourself? You glance towards Anu watching as she speaks with authority to the Ishari warriors. There is a strength in her posture and a determination in her expression, far from the person you had been when you were forced to flee Salt Bay. She does not need your aid and you turn to Sargon with a scowl, irrirated by his request. "I did not mean to upset you," Sargon replies, his lips pressing together. "And I did not intend for you to take responsibility for Anu. She is her own woman and she does as she pleases, $name." "Then why ask me to watch over her?" you demand. Sargon's eyebrows furrow and he stares at you, as though perplexed by your question. Your fingers curl into your palms and you feel the sting of your nails pressing deep into your skin. It takes you a moment too long to realise it, but when you do, you feel your lungs squeezing painfully in your chest. There is no underlying reason for his request - it stems only from fatherly love. As though to confirm your thoughts, Sargon speaks softly. "She is my daughter, $name. I am only worried about her." You turn away from Sargon's gaze, unable to meet the look in his eyes without remembering all the hurt and lonelieness of your childhood. A breath escapes you, trembling with exhaustion and you glance at Anu again. Your stomach twists with the knowledge that you will never have what she has with Sargon. <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_21_2b]]

There is a call from one of the sailors and you turn towards the direction of the ship. The gangplank is now absent of those hauling crates and supplies for your journey. You realise that there is no time left to say farewell for you will soon set sail for the Southern Islands. "$name," Sargon calls, drawing your attention away from the ship. Your eyes shift to his expression and you find that there is a gentleness in the way that he looks at you. The sight surprises you and you are uncertain what you have done to have garnered such an expression from Sargon. "Take care of yourself when you are gone," he breathes. "There are still many tribulations ahead of us all." You manage a nod but before you can reply, you hear the sailor calling out once more. Swallowing a hard lump, you turn away from Sargon and make your way towards the gangplank. [[Next.|chp8_22]]

<<if $chp8_21_3 is 1>> "Of course I will," you answer, offering her a gentle smile. You kneel down so that your gaze is levelled with Rana's and find that she stares at you with a look of wonder. Over her shoulder, you notice Danzor casting a worried look at Rana but you push aside the unwanted thoughts that spill into your mind and return your attention onto the young girl. Rana's lips curl into a shy smile and when she speaks, her voice is softer. "I will miss you when you are gone, $name." Her words are spoken with the sincerity of a child. You can find no traces of deceit in her tone and when you inspect her expression, taking in her eyes so wide with awe, you realise with a startle that she is telling you the truth. You have spent less time with Rana than you have with your companions, yet, it would seem as if she accepts you - perhaps because of your shared blood or perhaps because she longs for a sibling the way you once did at her age. "I will return soon," you breathe. "And perhaps when I do, we shall be able to spend more time together." "Yes," Rana breathes, grinning at you. "I would like that. Thank you, $name." <<elseif $chp8_21_3 is 2>> "I shall bring you back a present. What would you like?" you ask, grinning at her. There were times when your father would venture into the market without you by his side and he would return only with a handful of coins and empty crates. You remember seeing the other children, gleeful when their own relatives would return with small trinkets and toys, reminding you that your childhood would never be as full of affection as theirs. "A present?" Rana asks, her eyebrows rising against her forehead. "Truly?" You cast her a soft smile, nodding in response. "Truly." Your confirmation elicits a light sound from Rana and you realise that it is the first time you have heard her laugh when she is with you. A surge of affection fills you and you wonder briefly if this is what it must feel like to have a younger sister. Knowing that she shares your blood is enough to make you feel less alone than you had before. "Mama says that you will be going to an island with lots of traders," Rana breathes. "Will you bring me back a toy from them? I had to give mine to the other children in the temple." "Of course," you answer. "It will be a toy just for you, Rana." She beams at you. "Thank you, $name." <<elseif $chp8_21_3 is 3>> "I cannot say," you state, frowning. "It will depend if there is anything worth returning to when this is all over." Your response is blunt and would likely draw the sight of scowls from those who consider your words too harsh for a young child. But as you look at Rana, you find a sliver of resentment towards her. She has been allowed to enjoy a childhood with both of her parents, protected from the harm that you were forced to endure. Rana blinks at you, her eyes filling with the beginnings of unease and you frown. Is there anything in Ishari for you? Your eyes shift over towards where $mama stands. Her eyes are hard as she gazes at you and then softens with concern they drift to where Rana stands. The sight of her expression twists at your gut and you swallow a painful lump. "We are here," Rana whispers. "Mama and Adda... and //me//." Her voice interrupts your thoughts and you turn to look down at where she stands, noting the way her lower lip trembles. The sight of her fear and beneath it, sadness steals a breath from your lips. She wields the same grief you carried as a child - the same pain that has filtered into your life even after you fled Salt Bay. "Perhaps it is the reason why I cannot return, Rana," you answer. "I do not belong with $mama. I do not think I ever did." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_21_3b]]

A loud voice cuts through the air and you turn your attention towards the ship. The crates and supplies have been hauled onto the ship and you realise that it is time to board. You glance at Rana and frown when you find that she has already hurried back to where Danzor stands. She peers at you with wide eyes, something akin to sadness in them but then, she ducks behind her father's legs and you sigh. Turning away from the sight of your half-sister, you begin to make your way towards the gangplank of the ship, knowing that it will be a long time until you return to Ishari again. [[Next.|chp8_22]]

<<if $chp8_21b is 1>> Farewells are always tinged with the heaviness of grief and longing. You remember the night that $mama left you and then, the night you fled Salt Bay, leaving behind Ahlf and the only home you knew. Swallowing a deep breath, you taste the saltiness of the sea on your lips and know that a farewell would not serve you well. Weariness settles over your limbs, dragging you with the heaviness of knowing that you will embark once again to an unknown land. Bidding farewell to those who will remain behind is a task you find that you cannot bring yourself to accomplish and with a final glance at those behind you, you turn towards the ship that sways against the water. <<elseif $chp8_21b is 2>> Your eyes take in the many faces before you, both familiar and strange. Once, you might have gripped your mother's robes tightly, begging her to take her with you and now, as you are about to embark on yet another voyage, you find that your mouth is filled with the bitterness of what you could never bring yourself to say. There is no one in Ishari for you to bid farewell and the thought is enough to lodge itself in the depths of your chest. It splutters and twists, as though you had swallowed serpents instead of air as you glance at the shore. The pain is not enough to bring you to your knees, but it serves as a reminder of all that you have endured and all that still awaits you. <<elseif $chp8_21b is 3>> Your memories of farewells have always been seeped in grief and pain. When $mama left you, her farewell had been one that scarred you for the most part of your childhood and when you fled Salt Bay, it was your father's death that made his memorable. You shake your head to rid your mind of the memories. //No.// You will not bring yourself to bid anyone a farewell for there is too much meaning that seems to accompany the gesture. No matter how many years have passed, no matter how many people come and go from your life now, every goodbye feels like an eternal wound. And so, you swallow down your voice and remain silent as you cast a final look over those gathered along the shore. <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_21b2]]

There is a low call from the ship and follow the sound of the voice. It hails from a sailor and you realise that during your musings, the crates and supplies have all been loaded safely onto the ship. It would seem that there is no time left to think about those you are leaving, for it is time to depart. You swallow a breath and begin your way towards the gangplank of the ship. With each step you take, you know that it only takes you farther from the place of your birth and the woman who you never thought you would see again. Still, you know that this is a journey that you cannot refuse. There is much to be gained by leaving and far more to be lost by remaining in Ishari. Glancing towards the shore and those gathered around the docks, you know that it will be some time before you return to Urur. [[Next.|chp8_22]]

The sails are spread as the anchor is hauled from the murky waters beneath the wooden ship. You feel the juddering of the deck and the creaking of the timbers under the ship’s keel. Your feet move to help steady the vessel’s balance as it leans over into a trough in the sea as waves lap at the bow and the hull’s edge. You hear voices of farewells drifting from the shore and you cast a final glance towards the docks of Urur. It will be a few weeks until you return and you are... <<set $chp8_23 to 0>> [[...relieved to be leaving the shores of Urur, for the people and its beliefs stifled you.|chp8_24][$chp8_23 +=1]] [[...saddened to leave, as you will miss the sense of belonging that you found in the realm of Ishari.|chp8_24][$chp8_23 +=2]] [[...nervous about the task that awaits you in the Southern Islands for you fear that you might fail.|chp8_24][$chp8_23 +=3]] [[...filled with a myriad of emotions, uncertain if it is grief, fear or numbness that consumes you.|chp8_24][$chp8_23 +=4]] [[...silent and filled with the sense of unfeeling for you cannot bring yourself to feel more than the sea's breeze against your skin.|chp8_24][$chp8_23 +=5]]

<<if $chp8_23 is 1>> After the weeks you have spent in Urur, you are relieved to finally be leaving its shores. The city, though full of culture and a sense of heritage that you were despised for in Salt Bay, has only served to remind you how lonely life was in your childhood. It has reminded you of everything about yourself that was different. A frown settles over your lips and you drag your eyes away from the docks, unable to bear the sight of the waning city. Instead, you take in the familiar sound of the sail flapping against the breeze and the creak of the deck as sailors make their way along its floor. As you swallow a deep breath, you taste the familiar tang of salt against your lips and allow your mind to be calmed by the gentle sway of the current. The movement is comforting and one that you have not felt in years. You exhale deeply, your mind tinged with memories of Ahlf and the silent days filled with the smell of fish and the sound of the lapping water against the wooden dinghy. <<elseif $chp8_23 is 2>> Your chest tightens at the fading sight of the docks knowing that it will be some time before your return. A strangled breath lodges itself in your throat and you press your lips together, struggling with the grief of leaving behind Ishari. For nearly your entire life, you have always been treated differently for your heritage and yet, in Ishari, you found a semblance of commonality in the culture of its people. For most of your childhood, you had been isolated from those around you. Coming to Ishari, you had not known what to expect but after seeing its people and witnessing the beliefs of the worshippers, you realise now that you have found a place that will welcome you without question. You only hope that the journey will not separate you from your birth place for too long. A sigh escapes your lips and you let your gaze travel over the deck of the ship. The sailors are quick-footed as they move around the wooden floor, their words lost against the sharpness of the breeze. No matter what may come, you know that you will have a home to return to when this is all over. <<elseif $chp8_23 is 3>> A sliver of doubt creeps up your spine, squeezing painfully until you are certain that your ribs will puncture your lungs. You gasp, struggling to swallow a full breath and turn your eyes onto the docks of Urur. The city grows distant as the ship sways further out into the sea and you realise with a startle that it is too late to return to shore. //What if you fail?// The thought spills into your mind until there is nothing else you can think about. It threatens your resolve and you grip the railing of the ship until your fingers protest in pain. Your shoulders slump forward, head ducking so that you no longer face the sailors thronging around you, instead, you stare at the water rushing past below. You cannot fail in this task and yet, the fear does not leave you. It is overwhelming and grips you with the strength of a thousand warriors until you can do no more than to stand on the deck, desperate for some semblance of calm. <<elseif $chp8_23 is 4>> Breathing becomes an almost impossible task as you stare at the docks of Urur. It becomes smaller with each moment that passes and yet, you are uncertain of the feelings that fill your stomach and chest, pushing up against your throat until a stifled sound leaves your lips. You swallow down the swell of words that threaten to escape you and turn away from Urur. You do not know what to call the feelings within you, for they seem to change with each breath you take. There is grief for leaving behind the city of those who are similar to you in beliefs and heritage and there is fear for what you might encounter in the journey ahead. But beneath it all, you feel a sense of numbness. Your eyes trace the patterns of the wooden deck and then, you follow the movements of the sailors around you. Slowly, the emptiness wanes until it is a distant emotion, much like the apprehension and longing that gripped you so fiercely. The journey will be an arduous one, but you will continue in your task as you always have done. <<elseif $chp8_23 is 5>> You have always pondered whether it is natural to feel this empty in moments of hardship. Your gaze shifts towards the docks. It fades with each sway of the deck and you let out a weary breath. Perhaps, after all these years you spent with Ahlf in Salt Bay, you have learnt that is better to suppress your emotions than to allow them the freedom to fester in your thoughts. Your mouth presses into a frown as you turn your eyes from the docks to your hands. Have you always been this numb? //No.// Your childhood was a difficult one and you realise that somewhere in the midst of insults and pointed stares, you became hardened to the pain that those in Salt Bay caused you. Turning towards the rest of the deck, you note the easy nature of the sailors who are content in their work. Ahlf always seemed happiest when he was out at sea and you can only hope that the same will will hold true for you. <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_25]]

<<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "chp8_island" loop play>>As the sight of land slowly ebbs from view, you cast a gaze towards the deck. Most of the sailors have settled into their tasks, with many choosing to ignore you and your companions. You turn, surveying the deck before you and... <<set $chp8_25a to false>><<set $chp8_25b to false>><<set $chp8_25c to false>><<set $chp8_25d to false>> [[...approach Prince Irus on the far side of the deck.|chp8_26a][$chp8_25a to true]] [[...make your way towards Queen Elora who wears an unreadable expression.|chp8_26b][$chp8_25b to true]] [[...walk up to Sir Oren, who sits hunched against the deck.|chp8_26c][$chp8_25c to true]] [[...notice Anu glaring at the sailors around her.|chp8_26d][$chp8_25d to true]] [[...venture below deck for a moment of quiet.|chp8_25e]]

You are struck by the sense of familiarity of this moment having happened before as you approach Prince Irus. And then, you are struck by the reminder of everything that happened on your last voyage. Perhaps it is the same sentiments that fill Prince Irus' thoughts for when he turns to look up at your approach, you note a look of apprehension on his face. There is a sliver of a smile on his lips, but it does not linger for more than a few seconds and a flicker of doubt slips into his blue eyes. You note the way his fingers fidget with a loose thread on his tunic and the slight crease on his forehead. He is worried, you realise and that thought causes your stomach to twist in unease. "$name," Prince Irus breathes. He does not look at you, instead, his eyes scan the endless blue of the sea. "Do you ever wonder if we are doing the right thing?" His question takes you by surprise and you stare at him, contemplating his words. You think about all that you have sacrificed to join Prince Irus on his journey and everything that you have lost. Can anyone truly be certain if what you are doing is the right thing? <<set $chp8_26a to 0>> [["I believe that we are," you answer, offering him a gentle smile. "There are many people who are depending on you to unseat your uncle from the throne."|chp8_26a1][$chp8_26a +=1, $irusRel +=1]] [["I do not know," you admit. "But I do know that there is no other choice. We are the only ones willing to end the bloodshed, Irus."|chp8_26a1][$chp8_26a +=2, $irusRel +=5]] [["You cannot spend your days contemplating what is right and wrong," you grumble. "Instead, focus your time on planning ways to defeat your uncle."|chp8_26a1][$chp8_26a +=3, $irusRel -=5]] [["Are you having doubts about travelling to the Southern Islands?" you ask, noting his furrowed brows.|chp8_26a1][$chp8_26a +=4]] [["You have managed to gain allies, even from Ishari," you murmur. "Even if you doubt yourself, I believe in what you are doing, Irus."|chp8_26a1][$chp8_26a +=5]]

Your gaze slips over Queen Elora and you take a moment to study her appearance. Her dark hair has been pulled into a tight knot at the base of her neck and the crown that often adorns her head has been replaced with a simple circlet. She resembles a woman, younger than the responsibilities she is forced to bear and yet, she stands tall and straight. As you step towards Queen Elora, her dark eyes meet yours and she offers you a small smile. She steps into the shaded spot, behind the large sail and you move to stand beside her. A cool breeze brushes against your skin and you let out a slow breath, grateful for the relief it brings to your heated skin. Queen Elora glances at you, her lips twitching into a smirk. "You seem to be at home surrounded by the sea." Her words tug you from your thoughts and you turn to face her fully. There is a silent question in her expression and despite the light tone of her voice, you sense that she is curious about your life in Salt Bay. As you take in the blue depths of the sea, you find that her question is one that brings back your childhood and the memories of Ahlf. <<set $chp8_26b to 0>> [["I feel more at ease out here than on land," you admit. "Perhaps I am more like my father than I realised."|chp8_26b1][$chp8_26b +=1]] [["I grew up surrounded by the sea and fishing," you respond with a slight smile. "It is something I have come to enjoy."|chp8_26b1][$chp8_26b +=2]] [["The sea is familiar only because it is what I grew up around," you mutter. "I would flee its sight if I could."|chp8_26b1][$chp8_26b +=3]] [["It reminds me of my home," you answer, thinking about Salt Bay. "Perhaps, I am bound to be reminded of it whenever I look at the sea."|chp8_26b1][$chp8_26b +=4]] [["I am not certain that I share your thoughts," you reply, filled with a myriad of conflicting emotions.|chp8_26b1][$chp8_26b +=5]]

As your eyes alight on Sir Oren, you find that he is crouched near the railing, his face ashen and his eyebrows furrowed. <<if $chp5_9_oren is true>>You are reminded of the last time you travelled by sea and found the guard captain ill from the ship's movement. It would seem that he has not yet found his sea legs.<<else>>With every shudder of the ship's movement, Sir Oren appears to become more uncomfortable and you frown as you note the distress in his eyes.<</if>> Approaching him only seems to prove that he is unwell as he leans over the railing and draws in a ragged breath. You are nearly upon him before he notices your approach. Glancing down to where he sits, you find his hazel eyes dull and filled with weariness. "$name," he mumbles, wincing at the sudden lurch of the ship. <<if $chp5_9_oren is true>>"It would seem that you have found me indisposed once more."<<else>>"I apologise, but I am not feeling very well."<</if>> <<set $chp8_26c to 0>> [["The sea does tend to bring out more than we would like from us," you respond, offering him a comforting smile.|chp8_26c1][$chp8_26c +=1]] [["Have had you any tinctures?" you ask.|chp8_26c1][$chp8_26c +=2]] [["I must admit my confusion," you reply. "When you first boarded Lord Redall's barge, you did not seem very ill."|chp8_26c1][$chp8_26c +=3]] [["It is better to empty your stomach now," you answer. "Though I am uncertain if you will last that long until we arrive."|chp8_26c1][$chp8_26c +=4]] [["Stop whining about being ill," you huff. "It will not stop you from retching."|chp8_26c1][$chp8_26c +=5]]

Anu's eyes are narrowed as you approach her. She stands to one side of the deck, her glare as fierce as the pull of her lips, marring her expression with something bitter and furious. You feet slow in their steps, until you are only metres from where Anu stands. As if sensing your gaze, she turns away from glowering at the sailors and her eyes meet yours. The memories of being hurt and of your collapse erupt in your mind, reminding you of everything that has happened. Neither of you speak and for a while, Anu stares at you as though daring you to approach her. She is intimidating and if you did not know any better, you would think that she is the enemy you are meant to fight. When you do not speak, Anu's dark eyebrows furrow and she folds her arms over her chest. "What is it, $name?" <<set $chp8_26d to 0>> [["I only wanted to see if you are coping with the journey," you explain, offering her a gentle smile.|chp8_26d1][$chp8_26d +=1]] [["You are angry," you comment, frowning in confusion. "Has something happened?"|chp8_26d1][$chp8_26d +=2]] [["I am allowed to venture where I wish," you retort. "I owe you no explanations."|chp8_26d1][$chp8_26d +=3]] <<if $chp7_anukiss is true>> [["We have not discussed what happened that night," you breathe, remembering her kiss. "You are the first person I kissed."|chp8_26d1][$chp8_26d +=4]] [["I was hoping for a warmer response," you tease. "Perhaps another kiss to soothe your worries might help?"|chp8_26d1][$chp8_26d +=5]] <</if>>

The air below deck is cooler than the humidity above and you release a deep breath, grateful to be away from the heat. Your eyes slowly adjust to the dimness and you note the different rooms of the ship. The layout is not unfamiliar to you and you let your legs carry you towards the room that you have been granted for the duration of the journey. Your room is narrow and to one side rests a single cot. Opposite to the bedding, you find a chest where most of your belongings are being housed. There had not been much room to bring everything you possess, but you have managed a few sets of clothes and a few supplies. The sight of the cot is enough to remind you of the weariness in your bones and you shift your weight against the thin mattress, relaxing into its hold. Alone, you let your thoughts drift aimlessly for a while as you listen to the soft scrape of footsteps further down from your room. With no one to demand your attention, you decide to... <<set $chp8_25eA to false>><<set $chp8_25eB to false>><<set $chp8_25eC to false>> [[...reflect on your journey so far.|chp8_25eA][$chp8_25eA to true]] [[...pray for good fortune.|chp8_25eB][$chp8_25eB to true]] <<if $chp7_sword is true>> [[...try to use your divinity.|chp8_25eC][$divinity +=5, $chp8_25eC to true]] <</if>>

<<if $chp8_26a is 1>> "I believe that we are," you answer, offering him a gentle smile. "There are many people who are depending on you to unseat your uncle from the throne." You glance at Prince Irus, watching as the tension in his shoulders eases as they sag. He sighs, a low breath of relief as a sliver of a smile graces his lips. Turning to face you, you are caught by the intensity of his gaze. In it, you see something that draws a swell of warmth from you. It blossoms from within your chest, spreading to the tips of your fingers and toes until you can no longer look away. "Thank you, $name," he answers. "I do not know how far I would have come if it was not for your aid." Prince Irus looks away from you, glancing at the sea once again. You are taken by his sincerity and the seriousness of his expression, but you cannot deny that his steadfast trust in you has been a reminder of who you have become. Gone are the days of longing for a life free of resentment and in its stead is a life where you are free from the confines of hatred. You nudge Prince Irus' arm with the crook of your elbow. Grinning, you catch his gaze and are grateful when he returns your expression. "Come now, we have come too far to start doubting everything we have done," you chuckle. Prince Irus' grin widens. "You are right, $name." <<elseif $chp8_26a is 2>> "I do not know," you admit. "But I do know that there is no other choice. We are the only ones willing to end the bloodshed, Irus." There is a note of hesitation in your voice and it must bleed through into your expression, because Prince Irus' gaze softens with a gentleness you did not expect to see. He exhales and the sound is almost weary, but with the expulsion of breath, you note as the stiffness in his posture seeps out until there is nothing but a crease in his forehead to suggest that it was ever there. "Our allies might disagree," Prince Irus murmurs. "They are sacrificing much to support me." You cast another glance in his direction and you find a sombre expression on his face. There is undoubtedly fear in his thoughts of what you know is to come. When there are no allies left to gain and little else to be done, you know that you will meet Virion in a battle that will seal the fate of the realms. "They support you because they believe in you," you respond. Your eyes drift towards Anu, on the other side of the deck. "You have secured the help of even those who might consider you an enemy, Irus. If you do not take your stand against your uncle, I do not know any other who could." A grumble escapes Prince Irus' throat, but there is no irritation in the sound. He runs a hand over his face, his fingers tangling in the golden curls against his forehead, before he glances at you with a hint of a smile. "I loathe that you make such reasonable arguments, $name," he responds. "You are right. I suppose that I cannot let down those who are expecting me to fight for them." <<elseif $chp8_26a is 3>> "You cannot spend your days contemplating what is right and wrong," you grumble. "Instead, focus your time on planning ways to defeat your uncle." The words leave your lips in a breathless mutter and your fingers curl into your palms. You cannot stop the flare of annoyance that slips over your skin like the dampness of humidity. It twists your lips and forces your eyebrows down, so that they rest over your eyes in a glare. Prince Irus notices your expression and he frowns, turning his attention back to the sea. "I have done that," he replies. "I //am// doing that." You shake your head. "Then do not start asking things that do not matter." Prince Irus turns to stare at you, surprised by the hardness in your voice but you cannot bring yourself to stop the bubble of anger that pours from you. "That is not-" But you interrupt him. "There are people who have chosen to support you. People have died in their bid to aid you. What would be wrong is if you stop fighting now and give in to any sense of doubt you might have." Prince Irus' eyes narrow and he looks down at his hands before he speaks. His voice is low and stilted, as though he is clenching his jaw. "I will not stop fighting, do not think otherwise, $name." <<elseif $chp8_26a is 4>> "Are you having doubts about travelling to the Southern Islands?" you ask, noting his furrowed brows. The sense of foreboding slips into your mind and you frown at the unease that curls in your stomach. Prince Irus does not respond for a moment and you search his expression, trying to make sense of his silence. In his gaze, you find a thoughtfulness that leaves you frowning. It is a look that you cannot comprehend. "The travelling does not bother me," Prince Irus replies. "Then it is the Southern Islands?" you question. He lets out a tired breath and nods after a moment. Turning to look at you, Prince Irus wears the expression of a man who has seen too much without having the opportunity to truly process all that has happened to him. It is a sentiment that you find yourself sharing and you offer him a small smile. The gesture does not go unnoticed and you are relieved when Prince Irus returns your smile. "I do not know what to expect from those in the Southern Islands," Prince Irus explains. "We are there to win allies in traders. There is only one thing that motivates traders and that is coin." It dawns on you that Prince Irus' troubles stem from the lack of wealth that each of you possess. Barring Queen Elora, none of you have much coin to spend and you know that winning over the support from the traders in the Southern Islands will take more than promises of unseating Virion. "If you are successful, you will be in a position to reward those who aided you," you answer. Prince Irus frowns. "And yet, what if it is not enough?" You meet his gaze. "It will be enough." He nods. "I hope that you are right, $name." <<elseif $chp8_26a is 5>> "You have managed to gain allies, even from Ishari," you murmur. "Even if you doubt yourself, I believe in what you are doing, Irus." The words are heated and leave you in a single breath. You swallow, finding Prince Irus' gaze turning to meet your stare. A moment passes and you begin to wonder if you have spoken too passionately. But then, a slow smile tugs at the corners of Prince Irus' lips. It pulls up until it widens into a grin that reaches the depths of his blue eyes. "With your support, who could ever falter?" Prince Irus asks, laughing. He leans against the wooden railing, his eyes searching your face. "Thank you, $name. I do not think I would have come this far without your help." You smile at him. "You are doing the right thing, Irus. I will always support you." Your words seem to take Prince Irus by surprise and he looks away, unable to meet your eyes. You frown, staring at him and notice the way his fingers tremble slightly. He lets out a shuddering breath and when he looks at you, you are struck by the warmth in his eyes that draws out a surge of affection from within your chest. "It is strange to think we have come this far," he murmurs. "I... I am grateful to have met you, $name." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_26a2]]

You lean against the railing and for a moment, neither you nor Prince Irus speaks. The ship sways against the current and you listen to the gentle lap of the waves against the wooden hull below. As you take in the stretch of blue beyond you, you catch a flicker of sorrow spread through Prince Irus' expression. "I wish that I did not have to leave Crown behind," he sighs. "It feels strange not to have him by my side." When you first met Prince Irus and became acquainted with his steed, you did not think that you would have grown so reliant on the stallion. But Crown has saved you countless times and you find that it is strange not to have the horse nearby. <<set $chp8_26a2 to 0>> [["You are quite fond of him," you remark. "I almost envy the bond you share."|chp8_26a3][$chp8_26a2 +=1]] [["He will be grateful for the rest, I am certain," you reply. "The journey has been a long one for us all."|chp8_26a3][$chp8_26a2 +=2]] [["Have you truly not been apart from him before?" you ask, curious.|chp8_26a3][$chp8_26a2 +=3]] [["I suppose," you mumble, uncertain what to make of Prince Irus' sadness over a horse.|chp8_26a3][$chp8_26a2 +=4]]

<<if $chp8_26a2 is 1>> "You are quite fond of him," you remark. "I almost envy the bond you share." <<if $irus_lock is true>>Your words draws Prince Irus' attention towards you and you find him wearing a wide smirk. All too soon, you realise the words you have spoken but before you can say anything more, Prince Irus leans closer to where you stand. You can feel the heat of his skin and shudder at the proximity. "Do not be envious, Beloved," Prince Irus breathes. "I assure you that nothing compares to what I share with you."<<else>>It is strange to see Prince Irus so sorrowful over a horse and yet, you cannot say that you know what that feels like. Your childhood was one where you did not own a horse or even a pet. You knew of the stray cats that Ahlf sometimes fed, but they never seemed to stay past the scraps of fish and bones. "I cannot deny that it is a bond worth envying," he responds with a smile.<</if>> Prince Irus glances at the sea as though searching for the distant shores of Urur before he looks at you. When he speaks, his voice is filled with a sliver of emotion. It is a fondness that makes his eyes warm and his expression soften and you realise that he considers Crown as more than a loyal steed. "He has been a friend to me when others were not," Prince Irus replies. "Though, I suppose it would not be fair to have him accompany me on all these journeys." <<elseif $chp8_26a2 is 2>> "He will be grateful for the rest, I am certain," you reply. "The journey has been a long one for us all." You cannot claim to know much about horses but you are not foolish enough to believe that Crown does not tire of the journey as the rest of you do. He has carried you across many lands and helped you flee from the threat of the Blood Guard. Crown deserves a moment of respite and you know that his time in the stables of Urur will help him heal from the weariness of your travels. "You are right," Prince Irus murmurs. He casts you a small smile. "It is difficult to remember that we have come far from when we first fled Cyre." Much has happened since you fled your home and let out a breath, thinking about what still awaits you. Crown will need to recuperate from the journey, if he is to join Prince Irus in the battle you know is to come. Yet, in the absence of the Urur and far out at sea, it is not nearly as difficult to imagine a life beyond the war. <<elseif $chp8_26a2 is 3>> "Have you truly not been apart from him before?" you ask, curious. You do not know much about the bonds royal children share with their horses. In Salt Bay, most merchants carried their wares in wagons and those who were from much further than Cyre, often travelled by sea. There were mules, but none were as large or as fast as Crown had proven to be. Glancing at Prince Irus, you find that he wears a wry smile on his lips and he gazes at his hands, as though they contain the answers to your question. "No," Prince Irus responds. "It is strange to think about it now, but for as long as I have had Crown, he has always been with me." Your eyes travel over Prince Irus' features and you note the glimmer of distress in his expression. It is the way his eyebrows press into his forehead, like an overhanging arch that forces a shadow over his blue eyes. As you lean against the railing of the deck, you cast a look over the sea, realising that like you, Prince Irus has been forced to abandon everything that he has known. "Crown is fortunate to have you to care for him," you murmur. A grin tugs at Prince Irus' lips. "I think he would have preferred a life outside the confines of the palace." You nod in response, though something in your thoughts tugs at you. Is Prince Irus talking about Crown or himself? <<elseif $chp8_26a2 is 4>> "I suppose," you mumble, uncertain what to make of Prince Irus' sadness over a horse. You are uncertain whether confusion or irritation fills you, as you consider Prince Irus' words. Your experience with horses is limited to your knowledge of Crown and the journey you have shared with him. In Salt Bay, horses were rare to see in the fishing hamlet. You were accustomed to hardy mules and bulls who would drag carts through the streets, but none seemed to draw the same emotion that Crown draws out from Prince Irus. "I should have left him behind," Prince Irus murmurs, after a moment. He sighs and runs a hand over his face. "It is unfair to put Crown in danger over a war he has no say in." You frown as you glance at Prince Irus. "How would you have left Cyre without Crown?" Your words seem to startle Prince Irus and he turns to look at you. He opens his mouth as if to protest against your words, but after a moment, he turns away, as if realising that he has no answer to your question. Perhaps you do not understand his bond with Crown, but you do understand the horse's importance in helping Prince Irus flee. "Crown has aided me tremendously," Prince Irus breathes. "But I am not so certain that I will be willing to have him by my side when I face my uncle." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_26a4]]

The hull of the ship shudders and you grip the railing tightly as the deck sways beneath your feet. You stare at the sea, suddenly reminded of the night when Lord Redall's barge was attacked. A moment passes and the swaying eases until you can barely feel the sea. Your eyes shift towards Prince Irus and he meets your gaze, smiling slightly. The sight of his expression is enough to smooth away the rising panic that threatens to consume you and you shake your head, pushing away the thoughts. As you gaze at the sailors, you find that your eyes linger on those who joined your journey from Ishari. Prince Irus follows your gaze and you watch as a frown tugs at his lips. He does not speak for a while, but you have spent enough time around him to understand that there is an unspoken question in his thoughts. "What is it?" you ask. "How are you feeling about everything?" Prince Irus questions. His eyes flicker with concern. "We have not spoken about what happened since your collapse." <<set $chp8_26a4 to 0>> [["Do not worry," you reply. "I have recovered from the ordeal."|chp8_26a5][$chp8_26a4 +=1]] [["I do not wish to speak about it," you snap.|chp8_26a5][$chp8_26a4 +=2]] [["It still weighs on my mind," you murmur. "I do not know what to make of my mother's actions."|chp8_26a5][$chp8_26a4 +=3]] <<if $chp7_sword is true and $chp7_23 is true>> [["I am well, despite what has happened," you answer. "The divine blessings might prove to be helpful in what is to come."|chp8_26a5][$chp8_26a4 +=4]] [["It is not ideal," you admit. "I discovered my mother's role in my supposed divinity and it nearly killed me."|chp8_26a5][$chp8_26a4 +=5]] <</if>>

<<if $chp8_26a4 is 1>> "Do not worry," you reply. "I have recovered from the ordeal." Your hand reaches up to touch your chest. You remember the pain of being crushed against the ground by the weight of Atses' Heart and how you struggled to breathe under the agony. Even when you finally did manage to push yourself upwards, and break through it, the pressure on your back had never eased in its weight. But it has been weeks since your collapse and you are no longer as weak as you had been rendered. You look at Prince Irus and offer him a reassuring smile and the gesture seems to unburden some of the worry that lingers in his eyes. His shoulders sag and he glances towards the sea for a moment before he speaks. "I am glad," he breathes. "I know how difficult it is to make peace with the actions of your parents." Your eyes dart towards him but Prince Irus does not meet your stare. For a moment, you wonder if he is thinking about his father and the decision he made to begin a war. But as you take in Prince Irus' slight scowl and the tightness in his shoulders, you cannot stop your thoughts from latching onto the notion of his mother. "The actions of our parents are not ones we can change," you respond. "But we can choose differently, Irus." He turns to finally meet your eyes and exhales. "Yes, for the good of the realm, we must." <<elseif $chp8_26a4 is 2>> "I do not wish to speak about it," you snap. The pain and anguish of everything that has happened returns to you in a sudden fit of rage. You think about your mother's role in your life and the actions she took when you had no voice to protest against the ritual she performed. Your nails bite into your palms and you turn away from Prince Irus' concerned look. "I see," Prince Irus breathes. Your eyebrows furrow and the ache in your chest deepens until you can barely breathe. Whirling to face Prince Irus, you cannot help the bark of anger that leaves your lips. It is a lowly growl that rumbles in your throat and threatens to swallow your words in favour of a yell. "What do you see?" you demand. "Your mother did not force any ritual onto you as a child. How can you possibly understand what it I feel?" Prince Irus raises his eyebrows at you as surprise flickers through his eyes. But the surprise is gone in an instant, replaced by a bitterness that you did not know he possessed. He looks at you, his face dark and his voice low. "I know more than you might thing, $name," he mutters. "You are not the only one to have a mother who knows no better than to disappoint their child." <<elseif $chp8_26a4 is 3>> "It still weighs on my mind," you murmur. "I do not know what to make of my mother's actions." Learning about $mama's role in everything has made it the divine blessings and your subsequent collapse, difficult to comprehend. You cannot know whether $mama was sincere in her belief of ending the war or if you were nothing more than a tool to utilise the way her divinity seemed to be used. Prince Irus catches your gaze and offers you a gentle smile. "We are here for you, $name. I am here for you if you ever wish to talk about it." His words offer a sense of comfort and you exhale, the breath leaving you and with it, expelling the tension in your neck. Returning Prince Irus' smile, you nod in response. He is right. Despite what has happened, you are no longer alone. "Thank you," you answer. "It offers me great relief to hear you say that." "Of course," Prince Irus replies. He hesitates, frowning at something you cannot see. "We all have our burdens when it comes to our parents." You gaze at him, uncertain who he refers to - his father or, perhaps, his mother? <<elseif $chp8_26a4 is 4>> "I am well, despite what has happened," you answer. "The divine blessings might prove to be helpful in what is to come." There is a lightness in your voice that reveals the hope you feel. You may not have had a voice in your mother's actions and the ritual she performed, but you cannot deny that your divinity might help you in what lies ahead. It is odd to know that in your blood thrums the power that you saw Anu unleash and the thought both terrifies and excites you. Prince Irus must sense your thoughts because he offers you a small smile. "I am grateful to know that you are well. Perhaps you are right. Your divinity might be what helps win the battle against my uncle." You return his smile, nudging him with your shoulder. "I expect to be thanked in more than just your words, Irus." Raising an eyebrow, Prince Irus grins wider. "Oh? Is my praise worth nothing, $name?" "I prefer gold," you chuckle. "And perhaps a horse of my own." Your words elicit a guffaw of laughter from Prince Irus and you gaze at him, smiling at the warmth tha fills his expression and the lightness in his voice. For a moment, standing beside Prince Irus, it is not nearly as impossible to imagine winning the war against the Blood Guard. <<elseif $chp8_26a4 is 5>> "It is not ideal," you admit. "I discovered my mother's role in my supposed divinity and it nearly killed me." Your voice is tinged with a sharpness and it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. You frown, your nose wrinkling at the thought and you turn away from Prince Irus' peering gaze. Being blessed with divinity has only hurt you more than it has helped and you cannot stop the swirl of rage that threatens to choke you. "It did not kill you, $name," Prince Irus murmurs. He gazes at you and you are struck by the understanding in his eyes. "You are stronger than the fate your mother decided for you." You swallow a painful lump. His words are kinder than you expected and yet, it is almost enough to drown out the pain you feel. A deep breath escapes past your lips and you nod as you cast your eyes towards the endless sea. He is right. There have been worse things than awakening your divinity and you will survive it as you have always done before. "I hope that you are right, Irus," you breathe. He offers you a small smile. "From what I have seen, I know that I am right." You frown in confusion but you only receive another grin from Prince Irus. He must see more than you do and yet, it is enough to soothe the ache you feel deep in your chest. You swallow a deep breath and settle against the railing, no longer as troubled as you felt moments earlier. <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_26a6]]

Prince Irus lets out a breath before he stands away from the railing. You glance at him curiously and he offers you a rueful smile, the expression seeming to belie his weariness. Stretching his arms, you take note of the the days' old stubble across his chin and the strands of his hair that curl over the shell of his ears. He looks older, you realise and far tireder than when you first met. You idly wonder if you too have changed. "You must forgive me, $name," Prince Irus murmurs. "I am meant to be preparing for the eventual meeting with those in the Southern Islands." His eyes dart towards Queen Elora. "And Ellie keeps looking at me with murderous intent. I fear if I to do not leave now, she will give me a stern talking-to." "Of course," you reply. Casting you an appreciative look, you watch as he turns away and disappears below deck. Alone, you turn to survey the rest of the ship and decide to... <<if $chp8_25b is false>>[[...make your way towards Queen Elora who wears an unreadable expression.|chp8_26b][$chp8_25b to true]]<<else>>//You have already spoken to Queen Elora.//<</if>> <<if $chp8_25c is false>>[[...walk up to Sir Oren, who sits hunched against the deck.|chp8_26c][$chp8_25c to true]]<<else>>//You have already spoken to Sir Oren.//<</if>> <<if $chp8_25d is false>>[[...notice Anu glaring at the sailors around her.|chp8_26d][$chp8_25d to true]]<<else>>//You have already spoken to Anu.//<</if>> [[...venture below deck for a moment of quiet.|chp8_25e]]

<<if $chp8_26b is 1>> "I feel more at ease out here than on land," you admit. "Perhaps I am more like my father than I realised." The thought of your father comes unbidden as though the mention of the sea is enough to conjure the memories of him. Your fingers twitch at your sides and you press them into the skin of your palms, suddenly overcome with the knowledge that you are your father's $heir, no matter how far you travel away from Salt Bay. Queen Elora glances at you furtively and when she speaks, her voice is soft as if speaking to a frightened animal. "You do not talk about your father very much." You open your mouth to respond but then you close it, suddenly uncertain what to say. Speaking about Ahlf is a difficult thing to do. The memories you have of him are shadowed by the thoughts of what he has done and the father that he could never be. Knowing how similar you are to him in finding peace at sea leaves you struggling to breathe. "No," you mumble. "It is difficult to talk about him." Queen Elora's dark eyes slip towards the sea and you note the way her eyebrows furrow slightly. "I understand. Speaking about my father has never been joyful either. At times, I question if fate is playing a cruel game on us all for giving us parents we could live without." <<elseif $chp8_26b is 2>> "I grew up surrounded by the sea and fishing," you respond with a slight smile. "It is something I have come to enjoy." Your childhood in Salt Bay was not an easy one, but the sea was a balm that never failed to heal any wound or pain. It has been a part of your life in a way that your parents never were. Perhaps, in the end, it was the truest constant that you could have. As your eyes graze the surface of the sea, your lips pull upwards and your smile grows wider. "It is good that you enjoy the sea," Queen Elora replies, her eyes warm as she regards you. "And you, do you enjoy it?" you ask. Your words seem to take her by surprise and a small laugh escapes her lips, more from the unexpectedness of your question than from amusement. Once her laughter fades, her expression shifts into one of thoughtfulness and she pauses as she seems to consider your question. "I enjoy being away from the palace," she says after a while. Her eyes slip towards you. "I enjoy the freedom that it offers. There is something exciting in the uncontrollable nature of the sea." You think about the storms you have experienced and the more recent one when Lord Redall's barge was attacked. Sea storms are as dangerous as they are beautiful and they are far more volatile than many would believe. As you gaze at the young queen, you find yourself questioning if she wishes to be free from the role she has taken, fulfilling her duties as a ruler rather than pursuing what she truly desires. <<elseif $chp8_26b is 3>> "The sea is familiar only because it is what I grew up around," you mutter. "I would flee its sight if I could." It is the truth and it tastes bitter on your tongue. You frown as a sliver of irritation fills you. Salt Bay had been a terrible place to spend your childhood in and the sea only seems to remind you of the life you had with Ahlf. The sea never seemed more callous and it is enough to make you turn away from its sight. "Truly?" Queen Elora asks, her eyebrows raising. "I did not realise that you despised the sea this much." You huff. "It is a reminder of everything I would rather forget." Queen Elora's gaze falls away, thoughtful as she glances out over the water. It is clear she has something else to say but she pauses, mulling over her words. Her brows are furrowed and the creases appear deeper when she speaks again. "There are some aspects of our childhood that we cannot forget no matter how hard we try," she murmurs. "In the end, we are forced to live with the deep hurt that often makes us who we are." You do not reply and instead, try to make sense of her words. Her words are filled with truth and deep in your bones, you know them to be right. No matter how far you come, it seems that looking towards the sea is enough to render you a lost child, searching for answers once more. <<elseif $chp8_26b is 4>> "It reminds me of my home," you answer, thinking about Salt Bay. "Perhaps, I am bound to be reminded of it whenever I look at the sea." Salt Bay was a hamlet of fishmongers and sailors. Growing up with none but Ahlf as a parent, you quickly understood the manner of the sea as easily as you learnt how to swim. The days spent in the wooden dinghy were quiet and warm, but they were never enough to stop the hurt and isolation that came when you returned to shore. "We are all reminded of home when confronted by things from our past," Queen Elora replies. She smiles at you, a look of pain etched in her expression. "At times, I am reminded of the woman my parents saw me as and the life they had planned for me." "And what did they see you as?" you ask. Queen Elora shrugs and casts you a bitter smile. "A daughter to be used to gain allies. In a way, I am grateful for the painful reminders of my past for they show me how far I have come despite what others' think of me." You nod in understanding, suddenly aware that you too have overcome much from your past despite the pain it caused you. Glancing at the sea, you are reminded of the unpleasant times and yet, it is not with anger that you stare at the blue depths but with a sliver of pride. You will overcome your past just as you will overcome the challenges that await you. <<elseif $chp8_26b is 5>> "I am not certain that I share your thoughts," you reply, filled with a myriad of conflicting emotions. You struggle to make sense of your emotions, uncertain if it is rage, grief or a combination of both that swirl within your mind until you can think of nothing else. A sharp breath escapes your lips and you turn away from the sight of the sea and focus your attention on the sailors around you. Queen Elora turns to look at you with concern in her deep eyes. She seems to see through you like glass and her gaze is so intense that you are unsure how you must appear to her. When she speaks again, her voice is gentler but it still manages to reach the part of you which aches when you hear her speak your name. "$name," she murmurs. "I did not mean to bring up a bad memory." You shake away her words and force a smile to your lips. "It is no fault of yours." You try to keep the bitterness out of your tone but Queen Elora senses it nonetheless as she purses her lips tightly together. She does not press further, choosing instead to stare out at the sea. You follow her gaze and once more you are filled with the thoughts of your past and the life that seemed to confine you in despair. <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_26b2]]

As you settle into the quietness between you and Queen Elora, you turn to look at the rest of the sailors. Most don the colours of Vinia, but you find a few faces from Ishari that chose to join in the journey to the Southern Islands. The crew on the ship is far more than that of what Lord Redall had brought with him and knowing that you are surrounded by trained warriors and soldiers from Vinia is enough to put you at ease. Queen Elora lets out a weary sigh and you glance at her. Her gaze is dark and they shift over the different sailors around you, though the expression on her face is far from relief. Instead, you make out the beginning of anxiousness and from the way her fingers knot together, you come to realise that she has been hiding her turmoil from the rest of you. She must sense your gaze on her because she turns towards you. Her eyes search your face and whatever she must see there is enough to draw out her words. "I worry about the state of the kingdom in my absence," she breathes. "I fear that the longer I am away from Vinia, the easier it will be for the Blood Guard to destroy everything that I am meant to protect." <<set $chp8_26b2 to 0>> [["Your kingdom is a strong one," you respond. "You should not doubt that you have done enough to secure the safety of your people."|chp8_26b3][$chp8_26b2 +=1]] [["Do you suspect things will be worse when you return?" you question.|chp8_26b3][$chp8_26b2 +=2]] [["If you are so worried about the kingdom, why were you so eager to leave it?" you ask, frowning at her.|chp8_26b3][$chp8_26b2 +=3]] [["It seems as if you wish to return," you remark.|chp8_26b3][$chp8_26b2 +=4]]

<<if $chp8_26b2 is 1>> "Your kingdom is a strong one," you respond. "You should not doubt that you have done enough to secure the safety of your people." Your words draw a smile from Queen Elora and you find her shoulders relaxing until her posture is no longer as tense as it had been. She gazes at the sea and breathes in deeply. When she can no longer hold her breath, she exhales and it is enough to make her expression lighter. "You are right, $name," she murmurs. "Vinia is strong and its people are resilient. I only hope that our defences will remain until my return." You raise an eyebrow. "You mean to return?" A laugh spills past Queen Elora's lips and she nods. "Of course. When the battle ensues between Virion and Iri, I know it would be foolish to expect Vinia to be spared. My people will need me and I intend on protecting them even it means leaving Iri's side." Her determination fills her voice with the authority of a ruler and you are struck by the way she stands taller, commanding attention without realising it. You cannot deny that those in Vinia are fortunate to have a leader who will not abandon them and you are suddenly grateful to have met Queen Elora. <<elseif $chp8_26b2 is 2>> "Do you suspect things will be worse when you return?" you question. It is a question that has seeped into your thoughts in the weeks since you left Vinia and your family. While the missives Queen Elora receives from her mother allays your fears, you cannot help the sliver of doubt that fills your mind at what might happen when the eventual battle ensues. Vinia is a kingdom that has prospered in wealth and trade, but you have seen the ferocity of the Blood Guard and the cruel determination of Virion. No one in Vinia will be safe if Prince Irus does not succeed in reclaiming his throne and you see your fears etched deeply into Queen Elora's expression. "I am uncertain, $name," Queen Elora breathes. "Trade has slowed and without merchants from other regions, it will be difficult to keep the entire kingdom fed for too long." Your stomach knots at the prospect of those in Vinia who might starve before they even meet the wrath of Virion. Queen Elora notices your expression and she offers you a small smile and it is enough to quell your panic. "The Southern Islands is a nation built on trade," she explains. "My mother's lineage will mean that I will have some sway in bartering for more supplies. I will do as much as I can to protect my people." <<elseif $chp8_26b2 is 3>> "If you are so worried about the kingdom, why were you so eager to leave it?" you ask, frowning at her. There is a note of incredulity in your voice and it does not escape Queen Elora's attention. Her eyes narrow slightly and you watch as her lips press together, as though she is holding back a retort. But you do not avert your eyes and meet her gaze openly. Was it freedom from the confines of her role that she sought or had she truly wished to help Prince Irus? "I left because I knew Iri needed my aid," she replies. You turn away then, swallowing a scoff. "You knew the consquences of leaving your kingdom when you made your decision to leave. Complaining about it now will not stop any harm that might befall Vinia." Queen Elora's lips pull into a scowl and she regards you with thinly veiled irritation. "You need not remind me, $name. I am well aware of the consequences of leaving my kingdom." Her words signal the end of the discussion and you do not wish to probe further. You turn away from Queen Elora's gaze and cast a glance towards the sea. Beyond the horizon of blue, you know that the Kingdom of Vinia stands tall. You can only hope that it remains that way when the war is over. <<elseif $chp8_26b2 is 4>> "It seems as if you wish to return," you remark. Throughout your journey, you have thought often about the home you were forced to leave behind, yet, Queen Elora willingly chose to leave her kingdom in favour of helping Prince Irus gain allies. As you gaze at her, you find that she wears a sombre expression. Her eyes stare at something beyond your grasp and you wonder for a moment if she is remembering the home she left behind. "I do," she admits, after a moment. "I am a //queen// and left my kingdom without its rightful ruler." "What about your mother?" you ask. Queen Elora snorts derisively and you watch as her lips twist into a deep frown. She turns away from your stare and instead, casts her dark eyes over the sea. For a moment, she does not speak and you begin to suspect that she will not answer your question. But then, Queen Elora turns towards you and lets out a weary sigh. "My mother does not see things the way I do," Queen Elora explains. "She would rather listen to those in court than the people of our kingdom. No. I will have to return when the time is right. I cannot abandon my people forever." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_26b4]]

A squawk from above you draws your attention to the skies. The sun beats down against the top of your head and you raise a hand to shade your eyes from its glare. Slowly, your eyes adjust to the bright glow and you notice a lone seagull circling the ship. It takes you a moment to smell the faint saltiness of fish and turning towards the smell, you are greeted by the sight of a few of the sailors hauling in a net. You turn away and look at Queen Elora. Her expression softens when she notices your stare and her voice is hesitant as she speaks. "We have not spoken much about what happened since your collapse," she murmurs. "How are you feeling about your mother's role in everything?" <<set $chp8_26b4 to 0>> [["I am unsure," you confess. "It will take me some time to make sense of all that she has done."|chp8_26b5][$chp8_26b4 +=1]] [["She is my mother and despite everything that has happened between us, I am grateful to have her in my life," you answer.|chp8_26b5][$chp8_26b4 +=2]] [["I am furious," you snap. "She does as she pleases without consideration."|chp8_26b5][$chp8_26b4 +=3]] <<if $chp7_sword is true and $chp7_23 is true>> [["I do not condone what she has done," you respond. "But she has helped awaken my divinity and that is something I will be grateful for."|chp8_26b5][$chp8_26b4 +=4]] [["She is proving to be more my enemy than the Blood Guard," you hiss. "I never wanted to be her pawn and yet, she has found a way to awaken my divinity without any consideration of me."|chp8_26b5][$chp8_26b4 +=5]]<</if>>

<<if $chp8_26b4 is 1>> "I am unsure," you confess. "It will take me some time to make sense of all that she has done." It is still difficult to understand everything that $mama has done and you do not know if you will ever come to accept her act of leaving you behind with Ahlf. There is so much that has been unsaid between the both of you and despite all that you have learnt, you cannot deny that there still seems to be things your mother has chosen to keep from you. Queen Elora glances at you with a look of empathy and you turn away, uncertain whether to be grateful for her understanding or ashamed that she sees something broken in the relationship you share with $mama. She must sense your unease because she leans closer to you and drops her voice to a soft murmur. "There is nothing wrong with what has happened to you, $name," Queen Elora breathes. "We cannot choose what our parents decide for us as children." You think about everything that $mama did while you were still in Salt Bay. All the mistakes and the choices she made only kept you apart. The letters that Ahlf hid from you is another painful reminder of the control they wielded over your life, without your knowledge. "I do not know how I will ever overcome this," you confess. Queen Elora smiles, her eyes warming under the glint of the sunlight. "You will overcome this, $name. I know that you will. You have already proven that you are stronger than the $heir your parents tried to make you." <<elseif $chp8_26b4 is 2>> "She is my mother and despite everything that has happened between us, I am grateful to have her in my life," you answer. You never had the childhood that you wanted and no matter how much you hoped for $mama's return, it never happened until you left Salt Bay. Your mother had played a bigger role in the war and all that has happened, but it would be foolish to focus on her mistakes when she is now back in your life. Perhaps Queen Elora expected a different answer, for she raises her eyebrows in surprise. She opens her mouth then closes it, turning to look at the sea. The wind brushes against the dark tendrils that circle around her chin and she swats the strands away, almost as if in irritation. "I see," Queen Elora replies. Your eyes shift over her face, noting the press of her eyebrows together. "You do not agree?" A sigh escapes Queen Elora and she sags into herself, until she looks half the woman she seemed only seconds ago. Her fingers push away the loose strands around her face before she glances at you with an expression that resembles envy. "I wish that I had your resolve," she answers. "My relationship with my mother is far from ideal and yet, it seems you have gone through worse with yours and you are still able to forgive the past. I suppose it is hard for me to understand that when I cannot bring myself to forgive my own mother." You do not respond but you are uncertain what you could say to soothe the ache in Queen Elora. She has dealt with grief and pain from the woman she calls mother and you know all too well how difficult it can be to forgive such callousness. <<elseif $chp8_26b4 is 3>> "I am furious," you snap. "She does as she pleases without consideration." The thought of $mama is enough to elicit your rage, as though it lies simmering beneath your skin, waiting to burst forth until you are nothing but flames and anger. Queen Elora glances at you, her eyes widening at your tone but she does not berate you. Instead, she offers you a nod of understanding. "Most mothers seem to cherish their children," Queen Elora replies. "It would seem ours cherish themselves first." You huff, "I do not know who my mother is trying to fool - me or the child she abandoned all those years ago?" A breeze brushes against your face and you let out a breath, releasing the weariness and anger that fills you. Things have only seemed to become more complicated the longer you spent in Ishari and you are unsure what else your mother is keeping from you. It only serves to heighten your fury when you hear her tearful pleas to be a family once again. "Perhaps she is trying to nurse her guilt," Queen Elora murmurs. "If you forgive her, it would unburden the knowledge of leaving you as a child." Her words give you pause and you wonder if Queen Elora is right. Is your mother truly trying to unburden her remorse? You shake your head and the thought away. It is not your duty to give your mother the peace she so desperately craves. She was not the only one who was hurt when she left you. <<elseif $chp8_26b4 is 4>> "I do not condone what she has done," you respond. "But she has helped awaken my divinity and that is something I will be grateful for." The divine blessings seems to be something that will help sway the battle against Virion and the Blood Guard and you are grateful to have survived past the awakening of your gifts. You have seen the way Anu used her abilities to wield Atses' Heart and her prowess in battle. Against a trained Blood Guard soldier, the strength of the divine blessings would overcome them easily. Queen Elora glances at you, her eyebrows furrowed in thought. A moment passes before she speaks. "You are right. We will need every tool we have to stop the Blood Guard." Your eyes drift to your hands and you stare at your fingers. The memory of the burn you felt, the shrieking call that you could not seem to deny, prickles at your thoughts and you find yourself thinking about putting that strength into use on the battlefield. It is difficult to know if you will ever be as skilled as Anu and yet, knowing that you are not as defenceless as you had been is a welcomed relief. "When we have gained the support of all the allies we can, I will start training," you explain. "I will not let my divinity go to waste." A smile graces Queen Elora's lips and she shakes her head. "You are more than your divinity, $name. You have already accomplished so much without it." <<elseif $chp8_26b4 is 5>> "She is proving to be more my enemy than the Blood Guard," you hiss. "I never wanted to be her pawn and yet, she has found a way to awaken my divinity without any consideration of me." Your tone is bitter and spills out of you in a flood of rage. How can you ever come to accept everything that your mother has done to you? She has only taken and used you for her own gain and no amount of apologising or reasoning will ever change the hurt that she has inflicted onto you. You swallow down a hard lump and let out a sharp breath when you realise that you have been curling your fingers into your palm. Slowly, you unfurl your fingers and stare at the dark pricks where your nails bit into your skin. When you look up, you find Queen Elora watching you with a look that is soft and filled with understanding. "I am sorry that she has done so much to hurt you," Queen Elora explains. "I know that you are struggling with it all." You frown. "I wish that I did not care this much." Queen Elora nods and when she smiles, it is one filled with sorrow. "I wish that too, sometimes." Her words resonate deeply in your bones and you allow yourself to suck in a full breath of air. As you stand side-by-side, the tension ebbs from you with the gentle sway of the ship. Your mother has hurt you, but you will not allow her to continue doing so. This time, you are not a frightened child in need of $MChis mother. <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_26b6]]

You gaze at the sky once more, noting the heaviness of the sun as it graces the blueness above you. It is nearing noon and soon, the heat of the day will be unbearable under the glare of the sun. Queen Elora follows your gaze before she smiles wistfully. "I promised Iri that I would help him prepare for his meeting with the merchants and traders," she sighs. "I fear that he will only spend his days dozing and bothering the sailors without my aid." A small laugh tears past your lips and the smile on Queen Elora's face widens. She brushes past you, her boots light against the deck. "You should rest, $name," she states. "It is a long journey ahead of us." You nod to her as Queen Elora takes her leave from you. Turning away from her retreating back, you cast your eyes over the rest of the deck and... <<if $chp8_25a is false>>[[...approach Prince Irus on the far side of the deck.|chp8_26a][$chp8_25a to true]]<<else>>//You have already spoken to Prince Irus.//<</if>> <<if $chp8_25c is false>>[[...walk up to Sir Oren, who sits hunched against the deck.|chp8_26c][$chp8_25c to true]]<<else>>//You have already spoken to Sir Oren.//<</if>> <<if $chp8_25d is false>>[[...notice Anu glaring at the sailors around her.|chp8_26d][$chp8_25d to true]]<<else>>//You have already spoken to Anu.//<</if>> [[...venture below deck for a moment of quiet.|chp8_25e]]

<<if $chp8_26c is 1>> "The sea does tend to bring out more than we would like from us," you respond, offering him a comforting smile. Your words softens his expression, though it appears to be physically taxing for Sir Oren to manage the simple gesture. You watch as he leans back against the railing, resting his head on the wood. His shoulders sag beneath his clothing, revealing the extent of the damage the sea has done to his form. The black of his coat is a stark contrast in comparison to his skin, which paler than the rich brown of his skin. He must sense your stare because he tilts his head towards you and grimaces. "I am afraid it has brought out everything from my stomach." You move to sit beside him and he turns to look at fully. As he stares into your face, you can see his exhaustion etched onto every feature and even his lashes are coated with the spray of saltwater. Your heart twinges. He has not had the easiest time and there still lies the ocean's wrath that he cannot leave behind. "You should be resting," you suggest. Sir Oren shakes his head then frowns, rubbing his forehead. "I am meant to be on watch for any threats." "You are ill," you respond, frowning at his appearance. "And you have already protected us when we needed it the most. No one would fault you for needing a reprieve from the sea." A sigh escapes him, but there is a resigned look in his eyes. He runs a hand over his face and stares at the sea, as though threatening it to lurch the ship once more. When it does not, Sir Oren offers you a small smile. "I suppose you are right," he murmurs. "I think I will stay up here for a while longer. I do not think that my stomach is truly empty as yet." <<elseif $chp8_26c is 2>> "Have had you any tinctures?" you ask. As a child, you often would see merchants selling their wares closer to the shoreline. Ahlf never needed them to settle his stomach at sea and you seemed to inherit his sea legs. But as you gaze at Sir Oren, you know that he has yet to become accustomed to the constant swaying of the ship. "I bought a number of them before we left," Sir Oren mumbles. "But I am afraid that most are at the bottom of the sea." You cast a glance towards the water below and grimace, knowing that it will be a while before Sir Oren is able to settle his stomach. As you begin to ponder leaving him alone, Sir Oren glances at you and gestures to the space beside him. He does not speak, but the silent invitation to sit is evident in his hazel eyes. Obliging him, you take a seat against the wooden deck and glance at the blue sea. The gentle sway is soothing to you, though each rock of the ship only draws out a twisted grunt from Sir Oren as he grips the railing tightly. "Perhaps you should rest," you murmur. "The heat will do you no good in your condition." Sir Oren nods. "I fear that you are right, $name. Though I will remain for a while longer. The air below deck is stifling." <<elseif $chp8_26c is 3>> "I must admit my confusion," you reply. "When you first boarded Lord Redall's barge, you did not seem very ill." A sheepish look flickers through Sir Oren's expression and he turns away from your gaze. A sigh escapes him and he leans his head against the wooden railing. For a moment, Sir Oren closes his eyes and you take in the darkness under his eyes, as though sleep has evaded him for days already. "It would seem that the busyness of battle distracted me long enough from my illness," he breathes. Opening his eyes, Sir Oren looks at you. "My fear of any of you being hurt was enough to stifle the unease I felt." You nod in understanding. During the hours after fleeing from Salt Bay, it was easy to forget your distress and the weariness until much later. As you take in Sir Oren's words, you realise that he must felt the same. There is little time to wallow in your own feelings when there is death lingering nearby. "We are under no threat now," you respond, offering him a small smile. "You should take this time to rest." Sir Oren shakes his head, his eyes shining with a fierce determination. "I cannot do that, $name. My duty is to protect all on board, regardless of how I am faring." <<elseif $chp8_26c is 4>> "It is better to empty your stomach now," you answer. "Though I am uncertain if you will last that long until we arrive." The words are meant to be a jest, but they elicit a dry heave from Sir Oren. He leans over the railing and splutters, though thankfully, nothing leaves his lips. You frown, gazing at him as he draws back and sits against his haunches. There is a sallowness to his skin and a sheen against his forehead. "Forgive me, $name," Sir Oren mumbles. "I fear that you are right. There will be nothing left of me when we arrive." You shift to sit beside him and search his expression. His shoulders are wound tightly around his neck and there are dark shadows beneath his hazel eyes "You should be resting," you explain. "There is no need for you stand guard on the deck." Sir Oren manages a huff of a laugh but it quickly disappears when the ship shudders. Rubbing his face, Sir Oren glances at the sea below and sighs. He does not speak for a moment and you vaguely wonder if it is because he is gathering his thoughts or trying to stop himself from retching. "I am supposed to protect everyone on board," he murmurs. "It would be selfish of me to find rest when others cannot." You frown, raising an eyebrow at his words and turn to gaze at him. "It is not selfish to take care of yourself, Sir Oren. No one would expect you to sacrifice your health for the sake of your duties." <<elseif $chp8_26c is 5>> "Stop whining about being ill," you huff. "It will not stop you from retching." There is a dispassionate tone in your voice and your words seem to cut through Sir Oren's haze of unease. He opens his mouth as if to respond but quickly presses his lips together and leans over the railing. Your nose wrinkles and you turn your eyes away but when Sir Oren does not retch, you turn you attention back towards him. "You are right," Sir Oren mumbles. "It will not help." You sigh. The heat is unbearable against the top of your head and beats down against your skin. Glancing at Sir Oren, you find that his face is covered in a sheen of sweat and there are heavy shadows beneath his hazel eyes. He reminds you of the sailors who return to shore after months away at sea, looking bedraggled and thinner than they used to be. "Why are you not resting?" you ask. "It is the most sensible thing to do." Sir Oren frowns at your words and casts you a sharp look. "I cannot abandon my duties." "What good would you be in your state?" you counter. Shrugging, you frown. "It was only a suggestion. I cannot stop you from sitting on the deck where it will only serve to make you feel worse." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_26c2]]

Talking to Sir Oren seems to have rendered his bouts of nausea silent for the moment and he settles against the railing, exhaling a sigh of relief. You turn to look at the other warriors and soldiers gathered on deck, noting that there still seems to be two distinct groups of those gathered. The alliance between Prince Irus and Princess Lamahu might have been secured, but it appears that it has yet to bring the armies of the different nations together. Sir Oren follows your gaze and as though sensing your thoughts, he speaks. "I have spoken to Anu about organising a training session between both our skilled fighters. But it seems that the Ishari warriors distrust the guards under my watch." You frown. "Why is that?" Meeting your eyes, Sir Oren seems hesitant to respond but when you do not look away, he sighs. He is the first to avert his gaze, his eyes scanning those on the deck. "The High Priestess has a great sway over their actions," Sir Oren murmurs. "She has given them orders to obey none but Anu in her absence." <<set $chp8_26c2 to 0>> [["Do you think that the alliance will work?" you ask.|chp8_26c3][$chp8_26c2 +=1]] [["I am doubtful that the nations can work together," you comment, frowning.|chp8_26c3][$chp8_26c2 +=2]] [["Are the Royal Vinian Guards prepared for the battles ahead?" you question.|chp8_26c3][$chp8_26c2 +=3]] [["The loyalty of the Ishari warriors to my mother is an obstacle to a true alliance," you remark.|chp8_26c3][$chp8_26c2 +=4]] [["I am certain that in time, the barriers between both soldiers will disappear," you reply.|chp8_26c3][$chp8_26c2 +=5]]

<<if $chp8_26c2 is 1>> "Do you think that the alliance will work?" you ask. It is a question that has been plaguing your thoughts and as you take in the clear division between the warriors of Ishari and the guards from Vinia, you cannot help the mounting fear that when the war is over, any unity forged in the time of need will be broken. Sir Oren follows your gaze and sighs deeply. His dark eyebrows knit together and he rubs a hand across his forehead, as though contemplating the implications of your question. You turn to gaze at him and he meets your eyes. There a small smile at his lips, but you note that it does not seem to resonate in his hazel gaze. "I would hope that in defeating the Blood Guard, any petty differences we might have will fall away," Sir Oren replies. He sighs. "Though it will be a difficult path to trek." You nod and glance at the different groups of fighters once more. There is far too much uncertainty between those who have come to support Prince Irus and knowing this leaves your stomach knotting with unease. Only once the battle has been won will any of you know what the outcome is on the security of the alliances made. <<elseif $chp8_26c2 is 2>> "I am doubtful that the nations can work together," you comment, frowning. There is a bitterness in your tone and it garners a surprised look from Sir Oren. Yet, you have seen the bitter feud that has spanned decades between Cyre and Ishari and you know the consequences of hatred based on heritage. It will take much longer after the war to mend any hurt caused and you find yourself doubting whether the alliances will last past the war. "His Highness has done a remarkable thing in gaining the support of Ishari," Sir Oren states. "Perhaps he will manage to keep the alliances intact when the war is over, $name." Your lips press down and you shake your head slightly. "I am afraid that I do not share your sentiments. Ishari has pledged their support in favour of Prince Irus in defeating the Blood Guard and Virion, but how long will it be until they want more?" Sir Oren's eyebrows furrow and his expression becomes thoughtful. When he does not speak, you continue. "When the war is over, will Vinia truly support Prince Irus on the throne or will there be concessions on the side of Cyre to continue that support?" you ask. "You are wrong," Sir Oren replies. "I cannot speak for Ishari, but I know Her Majesty will be fair to His Highness." "Fair or not, it will impact the nature and power of the alliances," you reply. "No, I am not certain that they will hold once this is over." <<elseif $chp8_26c2 is 3>> "Are the Royal Vinian Guards prepared for the battles ahead?" you question. Sir Oren glances at the guards that have joined you on your journey. They stand tall and poised, as though readying themselves for an unseen threat. Once, they might have seemed ready to defend the innocent against the Blood Guard but you know how dangerous the battles ahead will be. As if sensing your thoughts, Sir Oren glances at you with a reassuring smile. "I am certain that they will be ready, $name. They have been training since the Blood Guard managed to enter the palace." You recall that night when Virion entered Aspal, promising more war if Prince Irus was not handed over. A frown tugs at your lips at the thought that the path you have all taken will only lead to more violence and despair. As you think about the preparedness of the Royal Vinian Guard, Sir Oren casts you a remorseful look. "I failed Vinia once," he breathes. "I will not let it happen again. Whatever may come, I intend on removing the threat that the Blood Guard poses to the realms." <<elseif $chp8_26c2 is 4>> "The loyalty of the Ishari warriors to my mother is an obstacle to a true alliance," you remark. You recall the warriors who stood closely at your mother's side, as though she was their goddess reincarnated. A frown tugs at your lips and your fingers dig into the skin of your palms. It would seem that despite having a royal family at the true helm of power, $mama has managed to garner the support of the Ishari warriors and those who fight against the Blood Guard. Sir Oren glances at you, a worried expression in his hazel eyes before he speaks. "Do you truly believe that she will hamper the alliance?" "She has done far worse in her past," you explain. "Were it not for her meddling, perhaps the war would never have begun." There are many things that could have happened without your mother's advice to Princess Lamahu. You try to think of a life without the war and the hatred throughout your life, yet it seems a far-fetched notion now. No matter what could have happened, your life will always be stained by the harm caused because of the war. "She believed in her visions," Sir Oren answers. "It might have not been avoidable, $name." You shrug. "It matters not now. She is still the woman who wields power over those who follow her. Most of the Ishari warriors seem half-besotted with her every word." Sir Oren offers you a small smile. "Give it time. She may surprise you in the end." <<elseif $chp8_26c2 is 5>> "I am certain that in time, the barriers between both soldiers will disappear," you reply. A deeper part of you hopes it is true and that when the common enemy is defeated, the nations will come together as they had been in the past. You think about all the harm that has been caused and the lives that were uselessly slaughtered. Finding peace once more will be a difficult task and take perhaps as long as the war did, but you know that any differences based on bloodlines will disappear. Sir Oren smiles and glances at you. There is a hint of warmth in his hazel eyes and you find yourself returning his grin. "That is a noble sentiment, $name," he responds. "I know that most soldiers would laugh at the notion, but I believe that peace can be achieved when this ordeal is over." You lean your head against your palm, resting your weight against it. A life free of war almost seems out of reach and yet, you have all come so far from the day you fled Salt Bay. Perhaps, it is not nearly as far-fetched as you once thought it was and as you glance at the groups of soldiers - Ishari and Vinia - you know that in time, there will be little to separate the realms. "It is something I look forward to," you murmur. "I wish to spare others like us the same horrors we have endured." A sad expression flickers through Sir Oren's eyes but it is soon replaced with an optimistic glint. "Yes. That will be a good deed to have accomplished." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_26c4]]

You settle into a comfortable silence with Sir Oren and allow yourself to breathe in the smell of the briny air. It stings your nose and stains your lips, but it reminds you of a time before things became so complicated. As you exhale deeply, you feel Sir Oren's gaze on the side of your face and you turn to look at him curiously. "What is it?" you ask. He is quiet for a moment and his hazel eyes seem to bore into your thoughts, as though trying to put into memory your expression. "You seem to be better," he murmurs. "I was afraid that things would have been difficult for you after your collapse." <<set $chp8_26c4 to 0>> [["It is kind of you to care about my well-being," you reply, smiling. "But you are right. I am doing much better now."|chp8_26c5][$chp8_26c4 +=1]] [["It still weighs heavily on my thoughts," you confess. "I am trying my best to move past what happened but I do not know if I can."|chp8_26c5][$chp8_26c4 +=2]] [["I am not better," you mutter. "I do not know if I ever will be after what occurred."|chp8_26c5][$chp8_26c4 +=3]] <<if $chp7_sword is true and $chp7_23 is true>> [["My mother played a bigger role in this than I understood until after my collapse," you respond. "But I intend on using my divinity to help end the war, regardless of everything."|chp8_26c5][$chp8_26c4 +=4]] [["I am still fuming at what my mother did," you hiss. "If it appears that I am better it is because I have been forced to push away the anger I feel towards everything."|chp8_26c5][$chp8_26c4 +=5]] <</if>>

<<if $chp8_26c4 is 1>> "It is kind of you to care about my well-being," you reply, smiling. "But you are right. I am doing much better now." The knowledge that Sir Oren harbours concern for you is enough to warm you from within. He is kinder than you deserve and yet, he has unconditionally given you his support and care since meeting him. But you spoke the truth. Despite what has happened, you are stronger for it and though your recovery was not easy nor fast, you are feeling better. A wide smile pulls at Sir Oren's lips and for a moment, it is enough to take away the unease of his seasickness. He nods at you, turning to gaze at the deck around you. When he speaks, his voice is soft and gentle, enough to draw your eyes to his face. "I am glad," he murmurs. "It is easy to forget how much you have had to deal with in these past months. You are stronger than I am and I wish to tell you how much I admire that." His words linger in the air, filling you with a well of emotion. You do not know what to say and so you simply offer him a smile, hoping that your eyes are enough to convey your gratitude. <<elseif $chp8_26c4 is 2>> "It still weighs heavily on my thoughts," you confess. "I am trying my best to move past what happened but I do not know if I can." The hardships you have endured have been difficult to overcome. With each day that passes, the weight of their burdens weigh heavier on your shoulders until it slips over your ribs, constricting as fiercely as a serpent. You swallow a hard lump as your thoughts shift to your collapse. You do not know if it is disappointment, shame or fury that fills you, only that after a while, the feelings did not leave you the way you had hoped they would. Your mind returns to that day, reliving the shrieking in your ears and the throbbing ache that rattled around your skull. "It must be difficult," Sir Oren breathes. He glances at you sorrowfully. "I am sorry that you have endured so much." You shrug. "There are some things we cannot control." He nods. "You are right. But I know you are strong enough to overcome what has happened, $name. You have continued when others would have faltered. Do not be discouraged if it takes you longer to move past what has happened than you would have wanted." His words are soothing and offer you a glimmer of comfort in your sea of despair. Perhaps Sir Oren is right. It will take some time but you will overcome this in time. You offer him a small smile and are grateful when he returns the gesture. <<elseif $chp8_26c4 is 3>> "I am not better," you mutter. "I do not know if I ever will be after what occurred." The anger that you have buried so deeply that it has etched itself into your very being comes spilling out as your words leave your mouth. You do not feel better - far from it. Fury and hurt war between each other, colliding and clawing to be noticed. You grind your teeth together, feeling the beginnings of a throbbing ache behind your eyes. Will you ever overcome everything that has happened? The answer seems to escape you and an overwhelming fear that you will never recover from your collapse and all the hurt you have endured, fills your thoughts. "I am sorry, $name," Sir Oren replies. He sighs. "I do not expect you to take my words to heart, but I want you to know that these things get better with time." His words are well-intentioned but they do little to take away the anger you feel. Instead you nod, hoping that you lack of response will be enough for Sir Oren and enough for you. <<elseif $chp8_26c4 is 4>> "My mother played a bigger role in this than I understood until after my collapse," you respond. "But I intend on using my divinity to help end the war, regardless of everything." You did not ask to be bestowed with the divine blessings and yet, you were granted the same divinity that you have seen Anu and $mama wield with ease. Knowing that the task before you will be difficult, you are determined to use the unparalleled abilities to help win the war. Sir Oren glances at you, his dark eyebrows raised as though surprised by your response, but it quickly shifts into a gentle understanding. He offers you a small smile and you return the gesture, suddenly grateful to have his silent support and companionship. "That is a good way to consider it," he replies. "I am pleased that you have not become discouraged. What you have gone through would have broken many." His words are enough to make you shift taller where you sit and you nod, casting him a grateful look. "Thank you, Sir Oren. Your kindness is more than I could ask for." <<elseif $chp8_26c4 is 5>> "I am still fuming at what my mother did," you hiss. "If it appears that I am better it is because I have been forced to push away the anger I feel towards everything." You are seething by the time your words are out of your mouth and all the rage and betrayal you have felt towards $mama unravels. It is difficult to stop your jaw from clenching and almost impossible not to glare at the sea and towards the direction of Ishari. Your mother has hurt you more times than you can count and the pain is almost too much for words. Sir Oren frowns in concern, or perhaps is it pity, and casts you a look that you cannot meet. You avert your eyes from his stare, feeling the twisting ache in your stomach worsen. Sir Oren does not say anything for a moment, but you sense his eyes peering at the side of your face. "You have a right to be angry, $name," Sir Oren explains. "What you have been through is difficult and finding peace with what has happened." You finally turn to meet his gaze and you find a kindess reflected in the hazel depths of his eyes. It is enough to stop the warring thoughts and feelings and you let out a breath, knowing that despite all that has happened, he accepts as you are. <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_26c6]]

The ship shudders for a moment, interrupting the conversation and Sir Oren's expression twists. He leans over the railing, half-gagging before he draws back and rubs his head. A moment passes and with it, the ship settles once more into a gentle sway but it is enough to force Sir Oren to his feet and he stands unsteadily. "I fear that it is time for me to retire below deck," he explains, glancing at you. "Thank you for seeking me out, $name. But I am afraid if I remain any longer, I might prove to be an unworthy conversationalist." You nod and it is all the response Sir Oren seems to require for he turns and stumbles towards the hatch that leads beneath the deck. As you shift your attention away from the direction of Sir Oren's retreat, you... <<if $chp8_25a is false>>[[...approach Prince Irus on the far side of the deck.|chp8_26a][$chp8_25a to true]]<<else>>//You have already spoken to Prince Irus.//<</if>> <<if $chp8_25b is false>>[[...make your way towards Queen Elora who wears an unreadable expression.|chp8_26b][$chp8_25b to true]]<<else>>//You have already spoken to Queen Elora.//<</if>> <<if $chp8_25d is false>>[[...notice Anu glaring at the sailors around her.|chp8_26d][$chp8_25d to true]]<<else>>//You have already spoken to Anu.//<</if>> [[...venture below deck for a moment of quiet.|chp8_25e]]

<<if $chp8_26d is 1>> "I only wanted to see if you are coping with the journey," you explain, offering her a gentle smile. Your smile seems to take Anu by surprise and the open hostility in her eyes softens until it is nearly gone. She lets out a breath and turns away from your gaze, letting her grey eyes take in the expanse of the sea and then, closer to where she stands, the sight of the sailors. "I am well," she answers after a moment. She turns to face you again. "There is no need for you to concern yourself about my well-being, $name. I am more than capable." There is a fierceness in her tone that seems to act as a guard to her true thoughts and you peer at her face, noting the slight twist of her lips that tug into a frown and the way her fingers curl into fists at her sides. You cannot tell if it is nervousness that grips the warrior priestess or irritation for the journey. "I did not mean that you are not capable," you reply, standing beside her. "It is only normal to make sure my companions and friends are well." Anu opens her mouth as if to retort but then, she presses her lips together and averts her eyes. Her voice is low when she speaks, barely a mumble but you hear it all the same. "Thank you, $name." <<elseif $chp8_26d is 2>> "You are angry," you comment, frowning in confusion. "Has something happened?" It has only been a few hours at sea and yet, you turn to survey the rest of the ship before you. Has Anu already found fault in the ship or has her patience for one of the sailors worn thin? A scoff draws your attention back to Anu and your eyebrows furrow when you note the flicker of a smirk gracing her lips. "Must you suspect something bad happened?" she asks. "Perhaps I always appear angry, $name." You shift your weight from one foot to the other, uncertain what to make of her words. "You are not upset then?" Anu's smile widens and you note the glint of her teeth before she lets out a breath. With it, the tension eases from her shoulders and she allows herself to loosen her stance. For a moment, she appears less like a warrior and more of a priestess who has made peace with the resentment she holds. But when Anu speaks, her voice is heavy and the troubled expression returns to her eyes. "I am concerned," Anu explains. "We have much to accomplish and little time to do it." You nod in understanding as the familiar weight of the burdens placed on you and your companions, settles against your chest. <<elseif $chp8_26d is 3>> "I am allowed to venture where I wish," you retort. "I owe you no explanations." Once, as a child, Ahlf warned you not to provoke a shark if it ever got caught in a net. Watching Anu, you realise a moment too late that she is like a shark as her eyes narrow into a glare and her teeth flash with rage. Something deeper compels you to stand your ground and instead of cowering before her wrath, you face Anu with a scowl. "You are wrong, $name," Anu spits. "Step any closer and I might throw you overboard." Her tone leaves no room for disbelief and the determination in her grey eyes tells you that she will make good on her promise if you dare defy her. Seconds pass and your eyes remain locked with Anu's. The silence becomes heavy with uneasiness and you let out a relieved breath when Anu is the first to turn away. There is little to be gained in trading barbs with Anu, yet your blood simmers with the tainted heat of anger. It courses through your veins until your jaw clenches tightly and your nails bite into your palms. Anu notices your reaction and it seems to amuse her, for she smiles bitterly. Whatever tension there is between you, you find it is easier to push it aside momentarily. <<elseif $chp8_26d is 4>> We have not discussed what happened that night," you breathe, remembering her kiss. "You are the first person I kissed." Your words sound awkward in your mouth and as though you have lost all knowledge of language. Anu stares at you and it suddenly becomes difficult to breathe. You swallow as heat creeps up your throat and settles against your face. It is difficult to maintain her gaze, so you turn away and stare at the sea, hoping that she does not notice your flustered expression. "I am sorry," Anu murmurs. Her voice is softer than you expected it to be and far too gentle. "If I had known that you have never kissed another, I would not have sullied you like that." Her words are enough to draw your gaze and you search her expression, noting her furrowed eyebrows and downturned lips. As your eyes travel up to meet her grey ones, you find a flicker of doubt and beneath it, remorse. It is an expression that leaves you breathless. "You did not sully me," you whisper. "I kissed you back." Anu's eyes shift towards your mouth and she visibly swallows. "Yes. You did." <<elseif $chp8_26d is 5>> "I was hoping for a warmer response," you tease. "Perhaps another kiss to soothe your worries might help?" The insinuation in your tone heavily coats your words and it is enough to draw Anu's gaze to your lips. Her focus is enough to send a shiver along your spine, despite the heat of the glaring sun. Unable to stop yourself, you step closer, as though tugged by an unseen force that compels you to close the distance between you and Anu. She notices your proximity and then, shakes her head as if to dispel whatever thoughts are in her mind. Her eyes return to meet yours and there is a glimmer of heat in them that was not there moments ago. Your lips pull into a wide smile and you are pleased when Anu's eyes seem to track the gesture on your mouth. "We have no time for this," she hisses, but her voice lacks any harshness. You step closer until you can feel the heat of her skin. "No time for what, Anu?" She does not reply and you take her silence as an unspoken prompt. You lean in just far enough to barely brush her lips with your own. Her breath hitches slightly and when you look at her, you find that she is staring back at you with an expression that is full of hunger. Her fingers reach up to cup the side of your face and a thrill of heat pools deep in your stomach at her touch. You let out a breath when Anu's mouth scrapes against yours in a barely-there peck before she pulls away and stares at you with open longing. "This is not the time for flirting, $name," she explains. "Perhaps later, when our task is accomplished." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_26d2]]

A silence falls over the both of you and it is enough to give you time to reflect on the woman beside you. You have known Anu for a short time, but as you gaze at her, the weeks you spent in her presence is enough to know the woman she is. Her posture is tall and proud, akin to that of a warrior's and yet, the gleam of gold against her throat and the metal that adorns her ears reminds you that she is a priestess like $mama. As you take in her expression, you note the slight frown on her lips and the way she draws her arms tighter over herself, almost as if she is restraining herself from lashing out. If she senses your inspection of her, she chooses to ignore it and instead, narrows her eyes at those gathered around you. You follow her gaze and realise that she is looking at your companions, her glare hardening when her eyes fall onto Prince Irus. "Is this how it always is with you?" she asks. Turning, she looks at you. "Do you expect people will simply ally with you because of //him//?" <<set $chp8_26d2 to 0>> [["Prince Irus is a good leader," you answer. "I do not doubt that he will garner support."|chp8_26d3][$chp8_26d2 +=1]] [["It has not always been this easy," you admit. "In the beginning, I doubted him as much as you do."|chp8_26d3][$chp8_26d2 +=2]] [["He is trying to be better than his father," you respond. "That will be enough to garner allies."|chp8_26d3][$chp8_26d2 +=3]] [["Why do you still doubt him?" you ask, frowning slightly.|chp8_26d3][$chp8_26d2 +=4]] [["At least he is trying to unify people," you huff. "It it were up to you, we would be in an endless war."|chp8_26d3][$chp8_26d2 +=5]]

<<if $chp8_26d2 is 1>> "Prince Irus is a good leader," you answer. "I do not doubt that he will garner support." Your tone must sound more reverent than you intended for it seems to amuse Anu. She smirks at you, her eyes filled with mocking as she takes in your expression. A frown pulls at the corners of your lips and you turn to look towards the endless sea beyond the ship's hull. <<if $irus_lock is true>>"You are a smitten fool," Anu chuckles.<<else>> "You truly believe that," Anu scoffs.<</if>> "Perhaps you are right. If the others are as content to support him as you are then he will have no issue in gaining allies." Her words are laced with the bitterness of a taunt. You glance at Anu and find that she is grinning at you. There is nothing kind about her expression and for a moment, you do not know how to respond. She is not your enemy and yet, something about the way she looks at you makes you think that she is not entirely your friend. "He is a good leader," you breathe, after a moment. "I only hope you come to see it as the rest of us do, Anu." Anu's smile falls and she lets out a breath. She does not respond, but from her thoughtful expression, you know that she is considering your words. <<elseif $chp8_26d2 is 2>> "It has not always been this easy," you admit. "In the beginning, I doubted him as much as you do." The admission leaves your mouth softly, an expulsion of air and your true thoughts. Anu stares at you, her eyebrows raised in surprise and you realise that she has been rendered voiceless for the first time since you met her. You take in her features and the way her grey eyes flicker with uncertainty, as though trying to come up with a response but when she does not speak, she lets out a breath and averts her eyes. "What made you change your mind?" Anu asks. You ponder her question, thinking about everything that you and Prince Irus have experienced. Once, the notion that Prince Irus would ever be more than the exiled son of King Erlan seemed nearly impossible. Yet, the longer you spent in his company, the more you saw the beginnings of a truly great leader. "He wants to unify the nations," you explain. "And I believe him. He has been kinder to me than anyone from Cyre ever has and I have come to trust him." Anu's eyebrows furrow. "Trust and kindness? That does not mean he will make a good leader." You shake your head. "You are wrong. Peace between the nations cannot be obtained without the kindness of its leaders." <<elseif $chp8_26d2 is 3>> "He is trying to be better than his father," you respond. "That will be enough to garner allies." You are not naive enough to believe that Prince Irus will be spared judgment for his father's actions, but you have seen firsthand the differences in his nature. It will be a difficult task to convince the other leaders to ally with Prince Irus and a far more arduous burden to persuade them that he is nothing like King Erlan. "You truly think that will be enough?" Anu asks. Her eyes narrow. "He has yet to prove that he is nothing like his father." "He has already garned the aid of Queen Elora and Princess Lamahu," you protest. Anu scoffs, turning to stare at you as if you are a child who knows no better. You rankle under her gaze and purse your lips, feeling the beginnings of your irritation flare. No matter what you say, it would appear that Anu will never support Prince Irus beyond helping him to win the war. "They are helping him only to serve themselves," Anu mutters. "A war is no good for the people of their kingdoms. Ishari has known this well for far longer than Vinia has. Princess Lamahu would have accepted an alliance even if it was posed by a fool following an exiled prince." <<elseif $chp8_26d2 is 4>> "Why do you still doubt him?" you ask, frowning slightly. The question is a genuine one and falls past your lips before you can reconsider it. Anu's grey eyes flicker with an emotion you cannot place before she turns away from your gaze. For a moment, she does not speak and yet, you are unable to silence the thoughts in your mind. Anu has not accepted Prince Irus as easily as others in Ishari, yet, she has joined him in his bid to secure the aid of the Southern Islands. "There is much to doubt," Anu breathes. When she says no more, you frown. "What do you mean? You have not yet given Prince Irus an opportunity to prove himself worthy." Anu shakes her head. "A good leader does not simply stand aside and hope for a chance to prove their worth. He has done nothing yet to show himself to be a good leader, $name." tHer stubbornness twists her expression into one of unrelenting determination. No matter what you say, you realise that Anu will not explain more of her refusal to support Prince Irus in the way that so many others have. Staring at Anu, you begin to wonder if her presence on the ship was to aid your companions or perhaps, to carry back tales of Prince Irus' actions outside of Ishari. <<elseif $chp8_26d2 is 5>> "At least he is trying to unify people," you huff. "It it were up to you, we would be in an endless war." Your words are hard and they bite into your tone until your voice is heavy with anger. Anu stares at you, her lips twisting into a cruel scowl as she regards your words. Her grey eyes shift from surprise to rage before something unreadable settles in the dark depths. "Is that what you think?" she demands. "You believe that I would bring war to my people?" You let out a breath. "That is all you seem to enjoy. War and bloodshed." Anu's eyebrows press down against her eyes and she draws closer. The air around you grows painfully hot and you feel an uncomfortable prickle along your skin, as though you were holding the flame of a candle too close to your flesh. "I think you are mistaken, $name," Anu spits. "All I have ever wanted is to end this war that was started by that bastard's nation. If I seem particularly bloodthirsty to you, I assure you that is far less cruel than what the Blood Guard has done to my people." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_26d4]]

The subject of Prince Irus seems to press over the both of you until neither of you speak. In the hush, interrupted by the voices of the sailors and the flapping sails against the wind, you to make sense of Anu's reasoning. It is evident that she holds no true support for Prince Irus and your thoughts shift towards $mama. Your mother did not approve of Prince Irus either and you wonder how much of her dislike has influenced the other priestesses like Anu. An alliance will only be effective if the people of Ishari are in support of it and knowing that not all are support Prince Irus leaves you doubting whether the alliance will last past the war. Anu glances at you and for a moment, you think you see concern in her grey eyes. But then, she looks away and you convince yourself that you must have imagined it. "Your mother worries about you," Anu murmurs. "She thinks you are rushing into danger." <<set $chp8_26d4 to 0>> [["It would seem that you know her better than I do," you mutter, filled with resentment and anger.|chp8_26d5][$chp8_26d4 +=1]] [["You are closer to her than I first thought," you comment, glancing at Anu.|chp8_26d5][$chp8_26d4 +=2]] [["She is?" you ask, your voice catching.|chp8_26d5][$chp8_26d4 +=3]] <<if $chp7_sword is true and $chp7_23 is true>> [["Oh, she thinks that I am rushing into danger?" you ask. "Was that before or after the ritual she performed to awaken my divinity?"|chp8_26d5][$chp8_26d4 +=4]] [["She need not worry," you breathe. "I am able to protect myself better than I could before with my divinity."|chp8_26d5][$chp8_26d4 +=5]] <</if>>

<<if $chp8_26d4 is 1>> "It would seem that you know her better than I do," you mutter, filled with resentment and anger. It seems childish to be upset that Anu and $mama seem to have grown close in the years that you were in Cyre and yet, seeing another so close in age to you able to share a bond with your mother that you were robbed of seems like a spiteful jab to your chest. Anger and hurt swirl in equal measure within your thoughts and you swallow a hard lump, to stop the shout of anguish from escaping your mouth. Anu's eyes shift towards you and you note the twist of her lips that tug down into a frown. "She is the High Priestess, $name. Whatever you think I know, you are mistaken." You scoff. "You know her better than I ever will, Anu." "It does not have to be that way," Anu replies. "You have found each other after years apart. Some people would give up their lives just to glimpse the face of their parents again." The retort that was on your tongue grows quiet as you consider Anu's words. Her grey eyes are darker than normal and filled with an unspoken anguish. You do not know much of Anu's childhood, yet, gazing at her now, you come to understand that it was not a pleasant one. <<elseif $chp8_26d4 is 2>> "You are closer to her than I first thought," you comment, glancing at Anu. It is curiosity that fills your voice as your eyes travel across Anu's features. You are aware of the nature of her relationship with your mother. As a priestess, it would be difficult for either of them to avoid each other. Yet, Anu's words signal to a bond that is far more personal. Anu looks away from you and releases a weary sigh. "She trained me when others would not. In some ways, the High Priestess became more of a mother than a mentor to me." Your eyebrows raise and you feel the beginnings of surprise slipping over your expression. It is the first time that you have heard Anu refer to $mama as mother-figure towards her and the notion that so many seem to find comfort in your mother's presence is a difficult one to make sense of when you have spent so much of your life away from $mama. Anu must sense your confusion because she casts you a long look. "Your mother has helped rebuild a part of Urur that many of us did not think was possible. She is a saviour to many of us." You do not respond and instead, look towards the sea. There are many faces your mother seems to wear. She is a priestess, full of divinity to some and a fierce and brave warrior to others. To people like Anu, it would seem your mother is the mother you never had an ooprtunity to experience. <<elseif $chp8_26d4 is 3>> "She is?" you ask, your voice catching. There is something cruel about the desperate hope that surges in your chest at the thought of $mama worrying over you. It comes unbidden and you are suddenly rendered a helpless child once more, unable to fathom an existence without $mama's presence. A breath escapes you and you stare at Anu, uncertain what her answer will be, but something in your expression seems to soften Anu's eyes and she turns away. "She has always worried about you, $name," Anu explains. "Since your arrival in Ishari, she has not been quite the same." You are uncertain what to make of Anu's words. Is your mother pleased that you are now in Ishari or has your arrival only made her act of leaving you behind too burdensome to bear? When you arrived, many were surprised that you were your mother's $heir, including Anu. "What has she told the others about me?" you ask, needing to know. Anu looks away, her forehead creasing as her expression fills with unease. "She only told us that you were her $heir and that you were sent away for your safety." You frown as you try to understand your mother's actions. The tast proves to be a difficult one and when the beginnings of an ache spreads through your neck and head, you push away any remnants of thoughts away. <<elseif $chp8_26d4 is 4>> "Oh, she thinks that I am rushing into danger?" you ask. "Was that before or after the ritual she performed to awaken my divinity?" Your voice is harder than you intended and it is enough to draw Anu's surprise. You ignore the look she gives you and turn away, feeling your nerves rattle beneath your bones as rage twists and tugs at your stomach. It would seem that $mama only seems to care about your well-being only when you have returned to her life. Her sudden worry for you almost elicits a laugh from you. Did she care about you when you were tormented by her absence? Was she aware of the hurt and anguish you felt every moment of your childhood? Your fingers bite into your palms and you turn to glare at Anu. "My mother cares about no one but herself," you mutter. "If you think otherwise then she has fooled you just as she has fooled countless of her followers." Anu frowns. "You talk about the High Priestess as if she a stranger. She is your mother, $name." You scoff, thinking about your divinity and the ritual your mother performed. "She a mother who used me for her own benefit. When I served no other purpose, she discarded me as if I was a mistake." <<elseif $chp8_26d4 is 5>> "She need not worry," you breathe. "I am able to protect myself better than I could before with my divinity." Perhaps another might be furious at $mama for the ritual she did when you were too young to understand its implications, but knowing that you are no longer as helpless as you once was brings a sense of relief to you. Your mother's concern for you is something that she no longer needs to carry for you are not a child nor are you as powerless as you once was. Anu stares at you with a contemplative frown. "The divine blessings are not something that can be easily wielded, $name." "Is that why she worries?" you question. "Is she afraid that I will hurt myself without her aid?" "It is harder to control your divinity without someone to guide you," Anu explains. "The High Priestess is the most experienced in wielding the abilities we possess." You shake your head. "I have overcome much more alone and I will overcome this too." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_26d6]]

A gust of wind brushes against your cheek and you breathe in the salty air, grateful for the reprieve from the heat. Anu does not speak, but from the way she fidgets where she stands, you realise that she has grown restless from standing and conversing with you for this long. Her gaze meets yours over the glare of the sunlight. "I must speak to the warriors who have joined me," she explains. "This journey will be a long one and we must be prepared for any danger." You nod in understanding and watch as Anu turns away and strides towards the other side of the deck, where the Ishari warriors stand huddled together. Turning away from Anu, you choose to... <<if $chp8_25a is false>>[[...approach Prince Irus on the far side of the deck.|chp8_26a][$chp8_25a to true]]<<else>>//You have already spoken to Prince Irus.//<</if>> <<if $chp8_25b is false>>[[...make your way towards Queen Elora who wears an unreadable expression.|chp8_26b][$chp8_25b to true]]<<else>>//You have already spoken to Queen Elora.//<</if>> <<if $chp8_25c is false>>[[...walk up to Sir Oren, who sits hunched against the deck.|chp8_26c][$chp8_25c to true]]<<else>>//You have already spoken to Sir Oren.//<</if>> [[...venture below deck for a moment of quiet.|chp8_25e]]

Since fleeing Salt Bay, your journey has been a difficult one. You have faced hardships and dangers. It is evident that the path you are on will only grow more dangerous the closer you draw to the imminent war. The knowledge that you will not know peace until one side has won leaves you pondering what you might do when this is over. <<set $chp8_25eA to 0>> [[You have always wanted to see more of the world.|chp8_25eA1][$chp8_25eA +=1]] [[A part of you longs for the peaceful days of being able to do as you please.|chp8_25eA1][$chp8_25eA +=2]] [[After everything you have seen, you want to help in rebuilding the realms.|chp8_25eA1][$chp8_25eA +=3]]

It has been some time since you have turned to the deities for aid and as you settle into the stillness of your small room, you exhale slowly, releasing the weariness that has settled deep in your bones. You are grateful for the solitude for it is enough to let your mind settle into the quietness of your room. As you settle against the small cot, you decide to pray to... <<set $chp8_25eB to 0>> [[...Solus, for his strength and courage to aid you on the rest of your journey.|chp8_25eB1][$chp8_25eB +=1]] [[...the Ancient Ones, for they are always with you.|chp8_25eB1][$chp8_25eB +=2]] [[...both Solus and the Ancient Ones. You will need the aid of all the deities for the journey ahead.|chp8_25eB1][$chp8_25eB +=3]]

<<if $chp8_25eA is 1>> Your life has been one of confinement. For almost all of your existence, you knew nothing beyond the shores of Salt Bay. Since fleeing, you have seen more than you ever have before and the knowledge that there is still so much left of the world to explore is enough to urge you into venturing beyond the borders of your home. The thought of seeing other nations and lands fills you with a sliver of excitement. Before you fled, the notion that you would ever leave Salt Bay seemed nothing more than a foolish hope and yet, now that you have survived and seen the other realms, you know that it would not be difficult to take your leave when the war is over. A sliver of determination anchors itself in your mind and despite the dangers that lie ahead of you, you allow yourself to bask in the possibilties of seeing the rest of the world. <<elseif $chp8_25eA is 2>> Since you fled Salt Bay, nothing is as it used to be. You were unwanted in the small hamlet but for a time, you had the freedom to do as you pleased. There had been a war, but when you were huddled in a small cottage, overlooking the starkness of the sea, you were almost free to believe that it would not affect you any more than it already had. Joining Prince Irus has given you the opportunity to see more of the world and it has also taken away your ability to make your own decisions without having to think of anyone but yourself. You miss the peaceful days at sea, spent doing no more than the simple chores of your life and a part of you longs to return to the life you once had. When the war is over and a side has one, you are determined to find a part of the peace that you lost when you began your journey. <<elseif $chp8_25eA is 3>> Since leaving Salt Bay, you have seen the devastation inflicted on those who were victims to the war. Bloodshed and death has left many without means and family. Your chest tightens at the knowledge that so much has been destroyed by the Blood Guard. None who have strayed in the path of the ferocity of the Blood Guard have been spared and you know far too well the consequences of encountering them. When the war is over and the realms are free from the division of war, you know it will take far longer to rebuild what was destroyed. Healing a realm will take months and perhaps years, but you are steadfast in your belief that it will be accomplished. Determination fills you and you nod to yourself. You will find a place when the war is over in helping the realms recover from the cruelties of the war. <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_25eA2]]

With your thoughts gathered, you settle against the narrow cot and let the gentle sway of the ship lull you. If you close your eyes, it is almost enough to fool you into thinking that you are out on Ahlf's boat, with nothing but the sea and smell of fish for companionship. The thought of your father is enough to unravel the memories you had of him and for a moment, you let them slip over you. You have not learnt what has become of him after his death and the knowledge that his body could be desecrated in Salt Bay sits uneasily with you. Many died that night and you know nothing of what has become of your hamlet. If you had not fled with Prince Irus, you realise that you too could have been one of the fallen from the attack. <<set $chp8_25eA2 to 0>> [[You hope that your father received proper funeral rites, for you cannot bear to think what might have befallen him in his death.|chp8_25eA3][$chp8_25eA2 +=1]] [[You care not for Ahlf, but no one should be dishonoured in death.|chp8_25eA3][$chp8_25eA2 +=2]] [[You feel a sliver of remorse, knowing that you abandoned Ahlf in his death.|chp8_25eA3][$chp8_25eA2 +=3]]

<<if $chp8_25eA2 is 1>> Your last memory of your father is as vivid as the night you fled Salt Bay. You can still taste the acrid bitterness of your fear and smell the thickness of the smoke from the burning hamlet. Ahlf had stopped Morden from killing you and Prince Irus, but it had cost him his life and the only parent you had known throughout your childhood. A deep seed of gnawing worry takes root in your chest and it stretches, tightening in its grip as you struggle to swallow a full breath. Your father is dead and you do not know what has become of his body. The brutality of the Blood Guard is one that has left lasting scars on many, including your father. You can only hope that when you fled, the Blood Guard left Salt Bay too. Perhaps those who were slain were given proper funeral rites by the survivors. The thought is enough to steady your breathing and you swallow, unwilling to fathom anything else that might have happened to Ahlf. <<elseif $chp8_25eA2 is 2>> The relationship you shared with your father was a strained one. You do not recall a day when he seemed truly pleased to see you and yet, he was not callous in his treatment of you. It is difficult to understand your emotions for they flit about from anger to grief and then settles on an unnameable feeling of dread. You are not a fool to believe that the Blood Guard would have spared the dead. In their violence, you witnessed great atrocities committed against those born in Cyre by the very soldiers who were meant to protect them. Your father was slain by Morden and from their shared history, you are wary to know what might have become of your father's body. Funeral rites are a natural part death and you can only hope that your father was granted the same honour that everyone is entitled to. <<elseif $chp8_25eA2 is 3>> Your guilt is a growing thing that twists at your stomach with each day you spend away from Salt Bay. Ahlf died in his bid to save you and Prince Irus from the Blood Guard. Yet, you cannot stop the writhing ache that spreads until it grips your chest tightly. You saved yourself but it came at the cost of abandoning your father. You swallow and rub your eyes as you feel the beginnings of an unwanted ache. Many have lost their parents to wars and illness, but you have not been given the same opportunity to give your father the proper funeral rites that he deserves. Perhaps, it will help you mourn him fully but without his body, you can do no such thing. A sigh escapes you and the sound is uneven as it slips past your lips. There is no one who seems to truly understand what it is to leave behind your dying father and the thought is enough to twist into a chasm of loneliness. <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_25e_end]]

There is a soothing tranquility in being alone. The shifting room is enough to ease your thoughts and the listlessness of your limbs slowly fades with each gentle sway. You have no one to ask of your thoughts and so you are free to do as you please. <<if $chp8_25eA is false>>[[You reflect on your journey so far.|chp8_25eA][$chp8_25eA to true]]<<else>>//You have already thought about your journey.//<</if>> <<if $chp8_25eB is false>>[[You pray for good fortune.|chp8_25eB][$chp8_25eB to true]]<<else>>//You have already prayed for guidance.//<</if>> <<if $chp8_25eC is false>><<if $chp7_sword is true>> [[...try to use your divinity.|chp8_25eC][$divinity +=5, $chp8_25eC to true]]<</if>><<else>>//You have already tried to use your divinity.//<</if>> [[Sleep beckons you as weariness tugs at your limbs.|chp8_26]]

<<if $chp8_25eB is 1>> You have known Solus' face for as long as you have lived in Salt Bay. He is a god of great power and far greater influence on those who worship him. Your eyes close and you let your thoughts clear until there is nothing else but the thought of Solus. He is never far from the warmth of the sun and as you breathe in deeply, you feel the familiar prickling of heat cascading over your skin. Your prayers are silent, spoken only in your thoughts as you ask for guidance in your journey. At times, your courage wavers and it is during those moments that you pray for Solus to guide you. When your hands tremble in fear and your thoughts begin to unravel, you know that Solus will be there to help you overcome your struggles. As your prayer is concluded, you open your eyes and blink away the dimness of the room. Your mind is lighter and any thought of doubt is gone. In its place, you feel a swell of warmth that curls around you like a comforting embrace. <<elseif $chp8_25eB is 2>> Before Salt Bay, you had experiened the wisdom and guidance of the Ancient Ones. They have been with you since your birth and you turn to them once more for their aid. In your journey, you have seen great violence and dangers and you are grateful for the protection that the Ancient Ones have granted you. As your eyes flutter closed, your thoughts turn to the deities that encompass the Ancient Ones. They offer you wisdom, bravery and strength in the face of danger and you pray to them to grant you a safe passage for the rest of your journey. As if summoning their strength, you feel a surge of calmness spread through your limbs until you are lighter than you were moments ago. Your eyes open and you release a slow breath, knowing that your prayers will keep you and your companions safe on your journey. <<elseif $chp8_25eB is 3>> Denying one deity in favour of another seems foolish. You have seen the way the different religions have been interwoven in the Kingdom of Vinia and it is with that in mind that you turn to the deities you have known longest. The Ancient Ones have been with you since your birth and yet, for most of your childhood, you have known the courage of Solus. Closing your eyes, you let your prayers stretch towards the different deities, asking for their aid and the strength in your journey ahead. Perhaps they answer in different voices for you feel a certainty of peace spread through your mind and the warmth of a comforting embrace enclose you. As your eyes open, you let out a slow breath. The gnawing thoughts of fear and doubt are gone and in its place, you are left with a knowledge that the deities will protect you. <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_25eB2]]

You are calmer now than you were moments before your prayers and you let the gentle sway of the ship lull you into a sense of calm. Leaning against the small cot, your eyes travel along the wooden planks that make up the ceiling and walls of your room. A whorl against the ceiling creates a spiralling maze that seems to reach far beyond the plank it was confined it. In a sense, the sight of it reminds you of $mama. She has used her divinity and connection to the Ancient Ones to influence those around her. Her advice to Princess Lamahu may not have been intended to start a war, but you cannot deny that it helped influence the actions of both the royal families of Ishari and Cyre. Your mother has done far more than she has told you and you wonder if you will ever come to understand her actions or accept them. <<set $chp8_25eB2 to 0>> [[You still need time to understand what she has done. Perhaps, when you are older, you will come to accept her.|chp8_25eB3][$chp8_25eB2 +=1]] [[You accept your mother's actions and her intentions behind them, no matter the consequences of what she has done.|chp8_25eB3][$chp8_25eB2 +=2]] [[You do not think you can ever understand what your mother has done. Accepting it is an impossible task.|chp8_25eB3][$chp8_25eB2 +=3]]

<<if $chp8_25eB2 is 1>> $mama's life has been one of many great hardships and decisions. You cannot condone everything that she has done and yet, the longer you know of her actions, the easier it becomes to accept them. Perhaps it is the newness of learning of her existence and the emotional turmoil of discovering her family in Urur that has left you unable to fully understand her actions. You muse about the years apart from each other and how that has affected the way you see $mama. She is nothing and everything like the woman you remembered the night she left you with Ahlf and you cannot say that you are pleased or disappointed by that knowledge. Only time will help mend your muddled thoughts and conflicting emotions, until you are certain on whether or not you will accept everything that $mama has done. <<elseif $chp8_25eB2 is 2>> Is it truly wrong to accept $mama and her actions? But you cannot stop yourself from doing so. Perhaps it is a consquence of unconditional love or perhaps, you are biased by the knowledge that she is your mother, but you are unable to condemn your mother for what she has done. You have known her for far less than those around her, yet, your memories of the woman she was when you were a young child is enough to untangle any forms of doubt from your mind. $mama is your mother, but she is also a woman who has spent most of her life fighting against an unjust war. Accepting her now is as easy for you as it will always be and you are content in your knowledge that $mama has done everything to protect those she cares for. <<elseif $chp8_25eB2 is 3>> $mama's actions have only hurt those closest to her. You think about the night she chose to leave you with Ahlf and the life you could have had if you had been raised by your family in Vinia. There are many things that she could have done differently, yet she did not. Her reasoning is not enough to soothe the anger and hurt you have felt since learning of what she has done. Knowing that she only intends to help does not take away the damage inflicted in the wake of her path taken. Her actions are difficult to understand and harder to make sense of when you know the impact her choices have had. You cannot accept her actions or bring yourself to understand her intentions for they are unforgiveable. <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_25e_end]]

Since your collapse, you have yet to try and call forth the divine blessings you awakened. You can recall the shrieking hiss of Atses' Heart and the unbearable pain that tore at your skin and bones until there was nothing left but an ache as though you had been burnt. But there had been no flames and you had come away almost unscathed. As you stare at your palms, you exhale deeply. You do not know what it takes to summon your divinity, but you do know what it felt like when you awoken it. <<set $chp8_25eC to 0>> [[You focus on the way your skin and palms felt like they were bathed in flames.|chp8_25eC1][$chp8_25eC +=1]] [[You focus on the quiet hush that befell you when you accepted your divinity.|chp8_25eC1][$chp8_25eC +=2]] [[You focus on the ache in your chest that filled with an all-consuming warmth.|chp8_25eC1][$chp8_25eC +=3]]

You spend days on the ship and fall into a familiar pattern of waking, stretching your limbs under the glaring heat of the sun and falling into a restless slumber when the sun dips behind the sea. As you begin to tire of the endless journey, you are alerted by the shout of a sailor. The loudness of his voice carries over the wind, though you would need no alerting to see what he does. //Land.// The expanse of the Southern Islands slowly comes into view. What appeared as one great mass, slowly splits into smaller isles as the ship navigates the narrow channels that meander through the region. Your eyes alight upon the harbour, far larger than that in Ishari and occupied with twice as many ships as you once saw in Vinia. As the ship draws closer, your eyes track along the shores. There are buildings made of white stone that stretch high above the trees. Beyond that, you spot colourful flags held up by thin poles that flap against the breeze. The anchor is dropped and the ship jerks to a stillness. You have arrived in the Southern Islands. [[Next.|chp8_27]]

<<if $chp8_25eC is 1>> As if summoned by your thoughts, a surge of heat spreads through your limbs and burns its way down to your bones. You grind your teeth, feeling a sudden pressure beneath your skin and you struggle to breathe. The air around you grows thicker until you are choking on your own breath. You cannot pull away from the burn as it scorches your thoughts and leaves blisters in its wake. Your fingers tremble and you bury your nails into your palms until they cut into your skin. It is difficult to think past the pounding in your ears and the loudness of your breaths. This is nothing like the day you collapsed. You do not hear the screaming of Atses' Heart and you do not sway in exhaustion. But you know it is there. The divinity that has been dormant for years now quakes and burrows its way into your bones, causing your chest to tighten with every breath you manage to swallow. <<elseif $chp8_25eC is 2>> Your eyes flutter closed and you focus on nothing but the sound of your breaths. Slowly, as though falling into an eternal slumber, your mind grows quiet and your thoughts fade until there is nothing left. For a moment, there is nothing but the hush of your room and the stillness of your form. And then, as if beckoned by some innate part of you, your heart begins to beat faster. Your breathing grows sharper and with it, you are awash with a lightness that you cannot fathom. It courses through you like the flooded banks of a river, spilling into every crevice of your mind until you are drowning in the sensation. You cannot speak or move, for you are caught too tightly in the grasp of your divinity. It is difficult to make sense of the fluttering in your chest, yet you know deep in your bones that your divinity is finally awake. <<elseif $chp8_25eC is 3>> There had been an otherworldly sense of belonging the moment you awoken your divinity. It is difficult to fathom and yet, you remeber the overwhelming warmth that coursed through you and held you in its embrace. You were no longer alone. //No.// You were graced by the powers of the divine. As your breathing becomes quicker, you feel a swell of heat spill across your throat and neck until it fills your chest and spreads outwards. You gasp as your skin prickles and your eyes burn with unshed tears. It is nearly overwhelming and yet, you feel the same presence as you had before. Your divinity is stronger than it was. There is no screams or pain, only a boundless warmth that welcomes you into its hold. You know then that you have found what has been missing in you for years. <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_25eC2]]

Almost as fast as it had come, your divinity leaves you. Your limbs grow heavy and you nearly fall back against the thin mattress beneath you. Exhaustion washes over you, tugging at your bones and you find it difficult to keep your eyes open. Gripping the side of your head, you struggle to remain awake as a dull throb begins behind your eyes. You have not hurt yourself, but it is evident that you are unable to wield your divinity like Anu and $mama. Pain lances through your arms and you hunch over, gritting your teeth against the sudden stabs of agony. You try to steady your breathing but it comes out in sharp gasps. It feels like hours have passed before the pain finally ebbs, leaving you sticky with a sheen of sweat. Whatever you might have thought about your divinity before, you are all too aware of the dangers it poses. <<set $chp8_25eC2 to 0>> [[You are determined to develop your divinity further.|chp8_25eC3][$chp8_25eC2 +=1]] [[You are uncertain if wielding your divinity will benefit you.|chp8_25eC3][$chp8_25eC2 +=2]] [[You fear what risks your divinity poses to those around you.|chp8_25eC3][$chp8_25eC2 +=3]]

<<if $chp8_25eC2 is 1>> You know that your divinity is like any other skill that you have learnt. It will take time and determination to improve in your capabilities. After everything that you have endured, you know that mastering your divinity will make facing the Blood Guard far easier than facing them without it. You stare at your palms, knowing that you will become adept at wielding the otherwordly abilities in your blood with practice. Knowing this is enough to muster your resolve. You will not rest until your skills have improved and when you are able to do more to benefit you and your companions in the war against the Blood Guard. Slowly, you sit up and stretch your limbs. The tiredness has nearly disappeared and breathing is no longer as painful. A sliver of hope fills you and it is enough to spur you in your determination. You will grow your strength and with it, you will become adept in wielding the power in your blood. <<elseif $chp8_25eC2 is 2>> You have seen the way Anu has used her divinity to fight against the Blood Guard and you have seen how $mama uses hers to command those around her. Yet as you gaze at your palms, feeling the lingering ache of summoning your divinity, you cannot help but wonder if you will ever be as strong as them. Your divinity has hurt you before and you are uncertain if you will ever be ready to use it against the Blood Guard or Virion. Doubt slowly slips into your thoughts, staining them in dark shadows until it is difficult to know what you will do when the time comes to developing your divinity further. It is a decision that weighs on you heavily and you know that you will have to make your choice when the time comes, but for now, you are conflicted. <<elseif $chp8_25eC2 is 3>> There is a danger in your divinity. You have experienced the pain and the nearly blinding urge to follow the calls of the divine blessings. It was difficult to ignore and painful when it left you bereft of its touch. You shudder, unable to stop the prickle of fear from piercing into your thoughts. You are not nearly as skilled as Anu or $mama in wielding your divinity and there is a great chance that you will hurt yourself, or worse, another, when you try to summon it. Swallowing a painful lump, you glance at your hands knowing that it only takes one wrong act to cause an unforgiveable mistake. No matter the great advantage your divinity might offer you in the war against the Blood Guard and Virion, you are aware of the danger it poses if you are not trained in using it. <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_25e_end]]

<<set $location to "Mennear Port, Southern Islands">><div class="timeline">Mennear Port, Southern Islands</div> The air is salty and weighs heavily with humidity as you step onto the stone jetty. You sway on your feet for a moment, unusued to being on land after a week of travelling by sea. As you steady yourself, you allow your gaze to wander over the locals who are gathered around the shore. Large ships are tethered to the harbour and the faces of merchants and sailors are far more diverse than those you saw in Vinia. Many are dressed in well-worn clothes that remind you of the hardy traders that would pass by Salt Bay, selling whatever wares they still carried. The sailors and traders wear hardened faces of those who have known labour all their lives. Yet, you see the flash of jewels and the glimmer of rich fabrics beyond the hulls of ships around you. The people of the Southern Islands are resilient, you think, but they are not lacking in wealth. <<set $chp8_27 to 0>> [[The sight of the Southern Islands is magnificent.|chp8_28][$chp8_27 +=1]] [[While the Southern Islands are impressive, you are hesitant about its people.|chp8_28][$chp8_27 +=2]] [[You are not impressed by what you see. Every city has its dark side.|chp8_28][$chp8_27 +=3]] [[You feel no strong emotion as you regard the Southern Islands. You are only here for an alliance.|chp8_28][$chp8_27 +=4]]

<<if $chp8_27 is 1>>You are uncertain what to look at first as your eyes slip over the tall buildings and stone pathways. Beyond the jetty, you notice large stalls that display crates of fabrics and exotic spices. The locals seem to weave through the crowds with ease, their attire a blend of robes, trousers and long dresses that trail against the ground. The harbour is far busier than that of Urur and vibrant with the sounds of different dialects and voices. This is the home of shipbuilders and traders and from the sight of the shores alone, you become aware that the Southern Islands is unlike the other regions you have visited. <<elseif $chp8_27 is 2>> The buildings gleam white, as though parched from the burning heat of the sun. You are in awe of the architecture, noting the tall and cylindrical shapes that make up pillars of even larger buildings. The scope of the city is hidden from where you stand, but as you crane your neck, you find it difficult to know where the city ends. Despite its beauty, you are hesitant about the locals of the Southern Islands. You stand, shifting your weight from one foot to the other as you note the faces of those around you. Some pay you and your companions no regard while others do not mask their open curiosity at the ship you have disembarked. You are uncertain what to make of the gazes cast your way and swallow, suddenly uneasy. <<elseif $chp8_27 is 3>> There is a beauty of the Southern Islands that comes from the wealth of its people. You are not blind to the tall buildings or the stalls that sell exotic silks and rich spices. Yet, your eyes seem to note the few locals who are dressed in rougher material, dark and soiled by the hardships of poverty. You are not naive enough to believe that the Southern Islands are free from the hardships you have seen throughout the regions. For every person who wears their wealth through the attire they don, the more you notice those who stand idly, begging from anyone who looks their way. <<elseif $chp8_27 is 4>> You have travelled enough to know that every region has its own set of cultures and laws. As you take in the merchants who call out to those who wander past and the tall buildings in the distance, you know that there is little of the Southern Islands that holds your interest. You draw away your gaze, sighing. There are only more tasks that await you while you are in the Southern Islands. Your shoulders sag at the sudden weight of the responsibility that settles there. An alliance with the Southern Islands would mean skilled sea farers who would be able to help in the war against the Blood Guard and Virion. It is the only thought that fills your mind and you push away anything else. <</if>> As the rest of your companions join you on the jetty, you catch a frown on Anu's lips. Her grey gaze scans the shores, her body poised as though she expects an attack from the locals. Queen Elora brushes past her, moving to stand a few steps away from you. Her dark eyes narrow and she purses her lips. "We were supposed to be meeting with a trader," Queen Elora states. "But I do not see the $Dgender that Lord Redall spoke about." "Perhaps they have not realised we have arrived," Prince Irus replies. Anu sneers. "Or perhaps we have been lured into an ambush." Queen Elora shakes her head and Sir Oren steps up beside her, his voice firm. "Lord Redall would not lead us astray. Come, I am certain we can find the trader." [[Next.|chp8_29]]

You follow after Sir Oren, his strides long and certain as they carry him further into the harbour. A few guards and warriors from Ishari move to flank you and your companions, their presence enough to draw the attention of the locals around you. If the trader you were supposed to meet did not know of your arrival before, you are certain from the whispers that are carried around you that $Dhe must know now. As you follow after Sir Oren and the guards that keep close, your eyes slip towards Queen Elora. Her expression is hard and the gaze she wears is unreadable, as though she wears a mask to hide her thoughts. She catches your stare and her steps falter as she slows to walk alongside you. "$name," she breathes. "Is something the matter?" <<set $chp8_29 to 0>> [["No," you answer, offering her a kind smile. "But you seem to be lost in your thoughts. Are you well?"|chp8_30][$chp8_29 +=1]] [["I am just taking in the sight of everything," you say. "It is unfamiliar to me."|chp8_30][$chp8_29 +=2]] [["I am uncertain," you explain. "If we were expected, why did the trader not meet us at the harbour?"|chp8_30][$chp8_29 +=3]] [["Nothing is wrong," you huff. "I only want to get this blasted journey over with."|chp8_30][$chp8_29 +=4]]

<<if $chp8_29 is 1>> "No," you answer, offering her a kind smile. "But you seem to be lost in your thoughts. Are you well?" Queen Elora's eyes widen, startled by your question before she looks away. Her dark eyebrows furrow in the centre of her forehead, as she regards the smooth cobblestone path that you walk along. For a moment, she does not speak and you begin to think that she will not answer you. The silence stretches and you open your mouth to break it, but your voice stutters in your throat as Queen Elora speaks. Her voice is low, as though afraid it will carry over the wind. "My mother wrote to me before we left Urur. She advised me that the Southern Islands is on the brink of another civil war." You frown, recalling her mention of the turmoil in the Southern Islands before you departed. "I thought that the region was unified under Sovereign Rabiah." "That was years ago," Queen Elora sighs. "When Rabiah unified the nation, the traders and merchants were not this wealthy and the locals were those born here." "And now?" you question. Queen Elora gestures towards those who linger on the shore. "Now, people from other regions come to set up their stalls and join the fleet of traders. The Southern Islands has become a home to many who wish to leave behind the regions they were born in. The different factions has given rise to a divide in the leadership of the nation. I am afraid that the negotiations will not be as simple as we would like." <<elseif $chp8_29 is 2>> "I am just taking in the sight of everything," you say. "It is unfamiliar to me." Queen Elora offers you a small smile, allowing her gaze to follow yours towards the gathered stalls and buildings in the distance. A breath escapes her, the sound wistful as a contemplative look fills her dark eyes. You turn to face her and find that her steps are confident as she walks through the jetty, her movements speaking of the assured nature of someone who has travelled this path before. "I forget that you have not been able to see much beyond your home, $name," Queen Elora replies. "You will learn that the Southern Islands is no different to any other region. There is war and there is greed." "You sound like you are speaking from experience," you murmur. A bitter laugh escapes Queen Elora. "My mother made certain that she brought me here as a child. For a time it became akin to a home outside of Vinia, but my mother's family think that I stole the throne from her after my father's death. Returning now is only a reminder that I am no longer welcomed by them." You are silent, uncertain how to respond to Queen Elora's words. It would seem that neither of you have had an easy time of navigating the complicated dynamics of your family relationships and as you continue to travel along the path, you can only hope that it does not affect the negotiations for an alliance. <<elseif $chp8_29 is 3>> "I am uncertain," you explain. "If we were expected, why did the trader not meet us at the harbour?" Your words are hesitant and a tremor of doubt slips into your thoughts. There have been far too many moments on your journey where Virion and the Blood Guard have seemed to evade those meant to protect you. You cannot help the panic that settles into your bones as uncertainty clings to your doubts like thick oil. "I do not know," Queen Elora admits. "The thought troubles me too, but I received Lord Redall's assurances that the trader is a $Dgender we can trust. I have no doubt that there is a good reason for $Dhim not meeting us at the harbour." Lord Redall has proven to be committed to the end of the war between Cyre and Ishari, but you are all too aware of the treachary of those who might be swayed by Virion's reign. He is far more calculating that King Erlan has proved to be and from the bloodshed in Salt Bay, you do not doubt that Virion would sacrifice the same people who serve him if it means that he can gain more power. "I hope that you are right," you murmur. "And that Anu did not speak the truth when she said we are walking into an ambush." Queen Elora offers you a smile, but you find that it does not reach her eyes. "I hope so too, $name." <<elseif $chp8_29 is 4>> "Nothing is wrong," you huff. "I only want to get this blasted journey over with." Fatigue lines your limbs and settles into your bones with an unmoveable weight. You are weary and the journey you have endured so far seems to be an endless one. As the tiredness seeps into your thoughts, you find that it fills you with irritation and your lips curl into a frown as you regard Queen Elora. Her eyebrows raise in surprise, but the look slowly shifts into one of thought. "No one has forced you to join us, $name." She speaks softly, but there is a firmness to her tone that leaves no room to argue with her. You scoff, turning away from her pointed look as you continue to walk alongside her. It is true that no one has forced you to join Prince Irus on this journey and yet, now that you are here, you know that no matter where you go, you will be unsafe so long as Virion sits on the throne. "I did not realise that I was not permitted to express my feelings," you mutter. Queen Elora frowns at you. "You are free to express whatever you want, $name. But complaining about a journey we have all had to take will not help anyone." Your eyes narrow and you refrain from muttering a retort. No matter how much Queen Elora has travelled, she will never seem to understand the struggles that you had to face. You have witnessed far more bloodshed than she ever has and for that alone, you should be allowed to speak freely without condemnation. <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_31]]

Your conversation with Queen Elora is interrupted when you hear Sir Oren's voice cut through the din around you. Drawing to a stop, you look up and find that you are now standing in beginnings of what appears to be a wide building that rests between the harbour and the city beyond it. A few sailors mill around and you note the official papers they carry, bearing a red seal. "The Harbourmaster's Office," Sir Oren explains to your group. "We will surely find the trader we were to meet in there." As he begins to lead you towards the wooden doors of the building, you stumble to a stop as your eyes alight on a group who are dressed rough tunics and dark trousers, like those worn in Salt Bay. You frown, the faces in the group watching as your companions walk past. As you rush to follow them, you find your path blocked by a man with a sneer. He wears a brown tunic, though there is an empty space where his right arm is meant to be. You stare at him for a moment too long because the man turns to stare at you, his eyes narrowing into a familiar glare. "You finally showed your face, Ishari cur." [[Next.|chp8_32]]

You forget how to breathe and suddenly, your legs feel as heavy as the anchors dropped into the sea. His face is older and where there had been two eyes, hardened with animosity, you find one hidden by a leather patch. But there can be no doubt in your mind. It is Emos, the boy who once found great delight in tormenting you when you were younger. Seeing him now fills you with... <<set $chp8_32 to 0>> [[...dread. He is here and you are suddenly a terrified child once more.|chp8_33][$chp8_32 +=1]] [[...panic. You cannot breathe or speak and you tremor where you stand.|chp8_33][$chp8_32 +=2]] [[...disappointment. You had hoped he would have been killed by the Blood Guard.|chp8_33][$chp8_32 +=3]] [[...anger. Emos does not deserve to live after the horrors he inflicted on you.|chp8_33][$chp8_32 +=4]] [[...apathy. A level of detachment fills you as you gaze at him.|chp8_33][$chp8_32 +=5]]

<<if $chp8_32 is 1>> You cannot look away from Emos as your eyes widen in fear. Suddenly, you are no longer $name, a $gender, but you are once more a child, facing your tormentor. Your ears thud loudly with the sound of your erratic heartbeat. It is difficult to see past Emos, for he is tall and broad despite his missing arm and covered eye. Your legs wobble under your weight and you struggle to keep your balance, suddenly unsteady in the face of your past. Emos' lips pull into a wide grin and he saunters closer. You swallow a painful lump as your eyes dart around for your companions. But you cannot see them, not when Emos is so close and his foul breath brushes against your face. "I had almost hoped that you had died along with your father," he spits. "But I suppose that it is only fitting I get to kill you myself." <<elseif $chp8_32 is 2>> Your chest tightens around your lungs and you are suddenly unsteady on your feet. It is difficult to make sense of what is happening and for a moment, you almost believe that you died in Salt Bay and this is just a version of the afterlife that you must endure. But when Emos strides closer, his cruel gaze sharpening at your panic, you realise that he is real and before you. Blood rushes past your ears and you can barely breathe. Your fingers tremble and you curl them into your palms but it is too late. Emos' grin widens into something ferocious. You shudder, unable to call out for help or to alert your companions. They are too far ahead and Emos stands in your way, unflincing as he glares at you. "What is the matter?" he asks, his teeth flashing as he smiles. "You seem afraid to see me again, Ishari cur." <<elseif $chp8_32 is 3>> A myriad of thoughts slip through your mind, but none seem to hold your attention other than the knowledge that Emos is still alive. Your lips pull downwards and as you take in his appearance, you find that his injuries should have warranted his death. Disappointment, like an endless chasm, pervades your every thought until you are certain that Emos must see it in your expression. His lips peel back as he leans closer and you grimace when you feel the brush of his foul breath on your cheek. This close, you notice that he is broader and taller than you remembered, though with only one good arm and eye, you surmise that he is not nearly as formidable as he once appeared. "You seem disappointed," Emos spits. "Did you expect me to die, Ishari cur?" <<elseif $chp8_32 is 4>> Much has happened since the days Emos tormented you in Salt Bay. You are no longer the scared child you used to be and you have faced far more dangers than Emos. Staring at him now, your lips pull back to reveal the glint of your teeth as you grin at him. At your sides, your fingers twitch as though readying for a fight you know is bound to happen. Emos' eyebrows raise slightly when he notices your expression. You scoff. Did he truly expect you to fear him? Stepping closer, you grin wider when you find Emos taking a step back. With a missing arm and eye, he looks as scared as you know he made you feel all those years ago. "It looks like you survived the attack from the Blood Guard," you huff. "A pity. You would make a better corpse." <<elseif $chp8_32 is 5>> As your eyes alight on Emos, taking in his missing arm and one eye hidden behind a strip of leather, you come to realise that all the fears you once harboured are absent. You frown, trying to conjure a sense of fear, anger or even frustration but there is nothing. A hollow emptiness slips over your thoughts, numbing you to the sight of Emos and you are uncertain if it is something to be proud of or not. Emos' eyes narrow when you do not react to him and he draws closer, his glare hardening on you. Your mind tells you to expect a punch, but it does not come and instead, Emos leers at you cruelly. Nearing you, his foul breath brushes against your cheeks and you wrinkle your nose. "It looks like you are far more damaged than I thought," Emos mutters. "You should have been gutted like your father." <</if>> If there is one thing that you have learnt from your years of torment, it is that when Emos talks, he intends to provoke. You stare at him, his words tumbling around in your mind as you try to come up with a fitting response. But you must take too long because Emos' raises his good arm, his fist suddenly coming towards your face. You brace yourself for the pain, but when you feel nothing, you peer up and are surprised to see... <<set $chp8_33 to 0>> <<if $irusRel gte 75>>[[...Prince Irus, standing between you and Emos.|chp8_34A][$chp8_33 +=1]]<<else>>//Your relationship with Prince Irus is not high enough.//<</if>> <<if $eloraRel gte 70>>[[...Queen Elora, who stands close to you with her loyal guards.|chp8_34B][$chp8_33 +=2]]<<else>>//Your relationship with Queen Elora is not high enough.<</if>> <<if $orenRel gte 70>>[[...Sir Oren, who grips Emos' fist in his tightening grip.|chp8_34C][$chp8_33 +=3]]<<else>>//Your relationship with Sir Oren is not high enough.//<</if>> <<if $anuRel gte 65>>[[...Anu, whose eyes flicker brightly as she grips Emos' tunic.|chp8_34D][$chp8_33 +=4]]<<else>>//Your relationship with Anu is not high enough.//<</if>> [[...an oddly familiar green-eyed stranger, who grips Emos' by the shoulder.|chp8_34E][$chp8_33 +=5]]

Your eyes widen as you take in Prince Irus' stance. He stands taller than Emos, though even if he did not, the thunderous look on his face would have been enough to cause your tormenter to falter where he stood. It is an expression you have rarely seen Prince Irus wear and suddenly, you are struck by the realisation that he wears the expression of an irrefutable leader. "Take another step and I will ensure that it is your last," Prince Irus spits. His voice is low, nearly a growl and the sound of it is foreign in your ears. You stare at him, but he does not meet your gaze. Instead, he glares at Emos, the hardness of his expression unwavering as he faces down the man about to attack you. Emos sneers at Prince Irus, but beneath his arrogance, you note a glimmer of genuine fear on his face. "This does not concern you. Run along with the rest of your noble friends. This fight is between me and the fisherman's $heir." <<if $irus_lock is true>>"$name is my concern," Prince Irus hisses. "Speak out of turn again and I will make certain that you lose more than an arm."<<else>>"$name is my friend," Prince Irus snarls. "Speak about $MChim again and I will take great pleasure in putting you in your place."<</if>> "And who are you to command me?" Emos demands. "I take no orders from the likes of you." "He is the future King," an authoritative voice interrupts. "I would suggest you heed his warning, Emos." The voice is familiar and elicits memories that you cannot quite remember. As you turn towards the new speaker, your breath gets stuck in your throat and it is suddenly hard to think. Standing before you is a lithe and tall $Dgender with eyes as green as the kelp forests of the sea. //Dena.// [[Next.|chp8_34A1]]

Queen Elora stands shorter than Emos, but his looming height does nothing to hide her glower. She draws closer, her guards flanking her steps as she stares up at the man who has tormented you since your childhood. There is hardness in Queen Elora's gaze that makes her dark eyes seem to be an endless black and the smile she casts Emos is anything but friendly. "It would appear that you have forgotten your place," Queen Elora states. "Perhaps my guards can remind you of this." Her guards are faces you have seen often, their loyalty unshaken as they stand taller and grip their weapons at their sides. Another man might have cowered, but as you turn to take in Emos' features, you find him sneering at Queen Elora. Where there should be fear, you find an amused glimmer in his eyes. Queen Elora is undeterred by Emos' reaction and her smile only widens. Your eyes search her expression but you can read nothing beyond the venomous glare in her dark eyes. In that moment, she is a queen that could conquer realms if she wished it. "My place?" Emos asks. "Take a look around you. This is not your kingdom, //girl//." Emos draws up to his full height, towering over Queen Elora. "If your guards so much as harm me, I will see to it that you and the Ishari cur get everything you deserve." In an instant, the anger in Queen Elora's expression turns darker. Her voice is eerily calm and the look she offers Emos is one that sends shivers of dread down your spine. <<if $elora_lock is true>>"Call $name a cur again and I will have your tongue," she hisses.<<else>>"The only //cur// I see is a one-armed fool," she spits.<</if>> Emos laughs and the sound is filled with mirth. "You do not frighten me. Without your guards, you are nothing." "She is more than nothing," a stern voice interrupts. "She is the Queen of Vinia and I would expect you to show your respect." The voice is familiar and elicits memories that you cannot quite remember, yet, as you turn towards the new speaker, you find that your breath gets stuck in your throat. Standing before you is a lithe and tall $Dgender with eyes as green as the kelp forests of the sea. //Dena.// [[Next.|chp8_34B1]]

It is as if time has stopped and you cannot pull your gaze away from where Sir Oren stands. There is a ferocity in his eyes that you have never seen before. It simmers with the threat of violence and causes Sir Oren's form to tense, as though he is readying himself for an attack. Emos' fist now sits uncomfortably in Sir Oren's grip and you are surprised by how much larger Sir Oren appears next to your tormentor. "I would urge you to reconsider your approach," Sir Oren warns. "$name is under my protection and I will not hesitate to cut down those who stand against $MChim." There is a roughness in Sir Oren's voice that would send even the bravest soldier fleeing in the other direction. Glancing at Emos, you watch as his expression shifts from irritation to surprise, before a faint glimmer of fear slips into his gaze. Even if Emos had both his arms and eyes, you do not think that he would be much of a threat to Sir Oren. "Why would you protect $MChim?" Emos demands. "An Ishari cur like $MChim deserves no aid." <<if $orenRom gte 55>>"You are gravely mistaken," Sir Oren grunts. "I will always protect $name, no matter what."<<else>>"$name is deserving of my protection, more than those like you ever will," Sir Oren growls.<</if>> "You are a fool," Emos spits. "All Ishari deserve-" "That is enough, Emos!" a voice interrupts, cutting through the tension with a severe tone. The voice is familiar and elicits memories that you cannot quite remember. As you turn towards the new speaker, your breath gets stuck in your throat and it is suddenly hard to think. Standing before you is a lithe and tall $Dgender with eyes as green as the kelp forests of the sea. //Dena.// [[Next.|chp8_34C1]]

Anu can be no taller than Emos as she glares at him. Her knuckles grip the the front of his tunic tightly and for a moment, you notice the flicker of gold in her eyes. It burns as brightly as the sun and you have to look away to avoid its glare. Emos does not fare nearly as well and cries out, shielding his gaze with the hand he almost punched you with. "What is the matter?" Anu demands. "Not so brave when you have to contend with two Ishari people?" Her voice is guttural. There is an otherworldly sound to it that leaves your skin prickling with unease. As you turn to gaze at Emos, you find him wearing an expression of agony. The sight of it seems only to spur Anu and she grins at him, the sight of her teeth flashing like that of a hungry hound. "You both deserve death," Emos spits. "You are nothing but-" Emos' words are interrupted as Anu slams him to the ground. You stare with widened eyes at the ease at which Anu stands over him, the air around her crackling with an unseen heat that leaves you shivering and unsteady on your feet. <<if $anuRom gte 55>>"You are nothing," she growls. "$name is better off without the likes of you."<<else>>"Say cur one more time and I will take great pleasure in ending you," Anu threatens.<</if>> A bitter laugh escapes Emos. "Of course. The only person who would ever join an Ishari cur is yet, another Ishari cur." Anu raises her fist, but a sharp voice cuts through the air. "Stop!" The voice is familiar and elicits memories that you cannot quite remember. As you turn towards the new speaker, your breath gets stuck in your throat and it is suddenly hard to think. Standing before you is a lithe and tall $Dgender with eyes as green as the kelp forests of the sea. //Dena.// [[Next.|chp8_34D1]]

You stare at the stranger with eyes as green as the kelp forests in the sea. For a moment, it is hard to look away from $Dhim and the longer you stare, the more it elicits a strange prickling in the back of your mind. There is an odd familiarity in the way the stranger appears, an ease in the way $Dhe walks and speaks that tugs at your memories. "That is enough, Emos," $Dhe says. "I will not abide your violence towards others. It is quite easy to send you back to Cyre." The threat in the $Dgender's voice does not go unnoticed and Emos suddenly looks away, his gaze averted. His clenched fist falls to his side and though his fist still remains curled, Emos no longer stands close to you nor does he meet your gaze. "I apologise," the stranger murmurs, finally turning to look at you. All at once, $Dhis green eyes widen in surprise. "$name?" Your name slips off easily from $Dhis tongue and your thoughts tumble until you are standing in Salt Bay, surrounded by Emos once more, only to be rescued by none other than Dena. There can be no doubt in your mind as you take in the familiar appearance of $Dhim. This is the $Dgender you met all those years ago in Salt Bay. [[Next.|chp8_34E1]]

Prince Irus stiffens where he stands and follows your gaze towards the familiar voice. You glance at him, noting the way his eyebrows furrow at Dena's approach, but your inspection of Prince Irus is interrupted as your eyes fall onto the owner of the voice. Your knees feel weak and you stare with wide eyes at the $Dgender you never thought you would see again. Dena is dressed finely with a coat embellished in gold thread and rings that glisten along $Dhis fingers. The years have aged Dena and where there was once a youthful mischief, now lies a fierce determination. As you note Dena's appearance, knowing that $Dhe is here fills you with... <<set $chp8_34A1 to 0>> [[...joy. It has been years since you have seen Dena and you are happy for the unexpected meeting.|chp8_35][$chp8_34A1 +=1]] [[...confusion. You are uncertain what to make of Dena's reappearance.|chp8_35][$chp8_34A1 +=2]] [[...conflicting emotions. Happiness shifts into confusion, before it swirls into something furious at seeing Dena again.|chp8_35][$chp8_34A1 +=3]] [[...anger. It would seem that despite everything that has happened, Dena still keeps the same friends.|chp8_35][$chp8_34A1 +=4]] [[...a fluttering warmth. You are suddenly reminded of the feelings you harboured for Dena.|chp8_35][$chp8_34A1 +=5]]

<<if $chp8_34A1 is 1>> Your attention does not go unnoticed by Dena who meets your gaze. There is passing flicker of confusion as Dena's dark brows furrow before $Dhis eyes widen in recognition. Ignoring Emos, Dena strides towards you wearing a look of disbelief. "$name?" $Dhe asks. "Is is truly you?" You nod, offering $Dhim a smile. "It is. I am pleased to see you again, Dena." Dena's lips pull into a wide grin and he reaches out to grip your shoulders. "I am the one who is pleased to see you, $name. After what happened to Salt Bay, I feared that you did not make it out alive." Your breath catches. "You knew what happened?" "I heard about the attack from my merchants who were docked there," Dena replies. There is a remorseful look in $Dhis green eyes. "I had hoped that you survived but none knew what happened to you." A warm sensation fills your chest and you nearly laugh from the sudden happiness that fills you. Finding a familiar face after all these years is enough to ease the exhaustion you have felt in the past few months. Dena's grip tightens and $Dhe returns your smile. "I am so grateful that you are alive and well," $Dhe murmurs. <<elseif $chp8_34A1 is 2>> Your thoughts become murky as you try to make sense of the sight of Dena. The last time you saw $Dhim, you were still an adolescent in Salt Bay, feared and hated by those around you. Something in your expression must show your confusion because Dena draws nearer to you, wearing a look of disbelief. "$name," $Dhe murmurs. "Is it truly you?" You open your mouth but you find it difficult to speak. What can you say to $Dhim? You //are// $name, but you are so different to the person Dena knew all those years ago. Glancing at Emos, you realise that to Dena, you must seem the same as you always have been - defenceless against your tormentors. When you do not reply, Dena reaches out as if to touch your arm but thinks better of it and lets $Dhis hand fall to $Dhis side. You swallow, forcing away the thoughts that fill your mind and turn to meet Dena's green eyes. "It is me," you state. A smile pulls at Dena's lips and $Dhis look of disbelief is slowly replaced by one of warmth. You hesitate to return $Dhis smile for it is not as easy to make sense of $Dhis presence before you. When you last saw Dena, $Dhe had been part of a trading ship. But as you take $Dhis appearance, you realise that $Dhe is far from the $Dgender you once remembered. "I am so happy to see you alive," Dena breathes. "When I heard what had happened to Salt Bay, I sent aid as soon as I could. No one could tell me what happened to you, but I am grateful that you are here and //alive//." <<elseif $chp8_34A1 is 3>> You stare at Dena, uncertain what to make of $Dhis presence. For a moment, you are confused, unable to comprehend the sight of $Dhim after all thes years. But your confusion does not last nearly as long as the sliver of warmth that seeps into your chest, settling there as you offer Dena a tentative smile. Dena's lips pull into a warm smile as $Dhe gazes at you. "$name, I am so pleased to see you." "It is good to see you too," you respond. As the words leave your lips, you find it difficult to look away from the sight of Dena. It has been years since you last saw $Dhim and the longer you look, the harder it is to forget what $Dhe meant to you. Yet, as your memories grow clearer with each moment, your thoughts shift towards Emos and the friendship he shared with Dena. The warmth that filled you at Dena's appearance suddenly fades nearly as quickly as it arrived. Confusion tugs at your mind, clashing with the unbidden thoughts of anger as you regard Emos only a few paces away from where Dena stands. Dena must notice the change in your mood because $Dhe draws closer, blocking the sight of Emos as $Dhe gazes at you. "I am sorry about what happened to Salt Bay," $Dhe murmurs. "When I learnt about the attack, I sent aid as soon as I could but no one could tell me what happened to you." You swallow a painful lump. The only one who ever cared about what happened to you died while you fled for your life. A frown pulls down at the corners of your lips and when you speak, your voice comes out strained. "I managed to escape," you explain. Dena nods and offers you a smile. "I am glad that you managed to find safety, $name." <<elseif $chp8_34A1 is 4>> Dena had been the only one to stop Emos from hurting you when you were too young and alone to protect yourself. Yet, as you stare at Dena, taking in $Dhis approach, the beginnings of rage begin to fill your thoughts. Emos hurt you all those years ago and now, he had almost hurt you again. It would seem that no matter how many years have passed, Dena will always keep the same friends as $Dhe did when you were both adolescents. "$name," Dena breathes. "I cannot believe that you are truly here." You scoff, unable to stop the anger from curling at the edges of your expression. "Did you expect me to die without your //protection//?" Dena's eyebrows furrow as $Dhe regards your words and the hardness in your eyes. Stepping closer, Dena stares at you imploringly, but you are unmoved by the soft look in $Dhis eyes. You are no longer the same adolescent you were when Dena first met you and you no longer need $Dhis aid to defend yourself. "Of course not, $name," Dena replies. "I am pleased to see you again. After what happened to Salt Bay, I was afraid of what might have become of you." Your eyes narrow and you turn away from Dena's gaze. As you do, your eyes find Emos once more. While he does not speak to you now that Dena is here, you still find his glare full of hatred as he regards you. A breathlesss laugh escapes you and you turn to face Dena once more. "I see that you still keep the same friends," you mutter. "There is no use denying it, not when he is standing right there." Dena turns to glance at Emos before frowning. "It is not what you think, $name. When I heard what happened to Salt Bay, I sent aid to help any who survived the attack." "And yet, here Emos stands, just like it used to be," you spit. <<elseif $chp8_34A1 is 5>> You are uncertain what to call the feelings that cause you to shudder as Dena approaches you, only that they fill you with warmth and remind you of the childhood longing you harboured for $Dhim. Dena notices your stare and offers you a gentle smile. You cannot look away nor can you hear past the thudding of your heartbeat, suddenly drawn to Dena the way you had been all those years ago. "$name," $Dhe murmurs. "You are here." <<if $relationship is true>><<if $irus_lock is true>>Prince Irus glances pointedly at Dena and you are suddenly aware that you are not alone. You open your mouth to respond, but Prince Irus shifts closer to you and turns to frown at Dena. Dena tilts $Dhis head to the side, raising a dark eyebrow at Prince Irus' response, but offers no remark on his sudden shift in attention.<<elseif $elora_lock is true>>Queen Elora glances at you, her eyebrows raised in a silent question and you are suddenly reminded that you are not alone. You swallow, flushing under her stare, uncertain how to explain the past you share with Dena. Dena notices your exchange with Queen Elora, but despite $Dhis curious stare, $Dhe refrains from voicing the thoughts in $Dhis mind.<</if>><<elseif $relationship is false>><<if $orenRom gt $anuRom>>Sir Oren's hazel eyes shift towards where you stand and you almost cower under the look he casts you. It is filled with a silent question, one which you are uncertain how to answer. Dena notices Sir Oren's look, but remains quiet under the sudden attention the Captain shows you.<<elseif $anuRom gt $orenRom>>Anu's frown deepens when she turns to stare at you before her grey eyes shift towards Dena. There is a thinly veiled hostility in her gaze, one that sends a shiver down your spine. Despite Anu's expression, Dena merely raises an amused eyebrow in response and remains quiet under her glare.<</if>><</if>> "Dena," you mumble, suddenly flustered. "I did not expect to see you here after all these years." A smile pulls at Dena's lips and your stomach knots at the softness in $Dhis expression. After all these years, you would be lying if you did not admit that Dena's presence in your adolescence did not influence you. Your feelings for $Dhim then might have been childish, but they had been the truest thing you had felt that was not connected to your heritage. "You are looking well, $name," Dena responds. Glancing at your companions and the guards around you, $Dhe smiles. "It would seem you have made some new friends since we last spoke." A laugh escapes you and you are almost embarrassed at how easily Dena has rendered you a flustered adolscent once again. "I have. Salt Bay was attacked and I had to flee." Dena nods, a sombre look flickering though $Dhis green eyes as he considers you. "I know. When I heard about the attack, I sent aid as soon as I could. Not many survived and no one could tell me what happened to you." Your eyes widen. "You searched for me?" "Of course, $name. You were a good friend," Dena murmurs. "One that I have cherished even after all these years." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_36]]

Queen Elora's lips thin into a straight line as her gaze sweeps over the appearance of Dena. An unreadable look flickers through her eyes and you struggle to understand what she is thinking about as she regards Dena. But your attention is soon drawn away as you turn towards the approaching steps of Dena. Your knees feel weak and you stare with wide eyes at the $Dgender you never thought you would see again. Dena is dressed finely with a coat embellished in gold thread and rings that glisten along $Dhis fingers. The years have aged Dena and where there was once a youthful mischief, now lies a fierce determination. As you note Dena's appearance, knowing that $Dhe is here fills you with... <<set $chp8_34A1 to 0>> [[...joy. It has been years since you have seen Dena and you are happy for the unexpected meeting.|chp8_35][$chp8_34A1 +=1]] [[...confusion. You are uncertain what to make of Dena's reappearance.|chp8_35][$chp8_34A1 +=2]] [[...conflicting emotions. Happiness shifts into confusion, before it swirls into something furious at seeing Dena again.|chp8_35][$chp8_34A1 +=3]] [[...anger. It would seem that despite everything that has happened, Dena still keeps the same friends.|chp8_35][$chp8_34A1 +=4]] [[...a fluttering warmth. You are suddenly reminded of the feelings you harboured for Dena.|chp8_35][$chp8_34A1 +=5]]

Sir Oren frowns at Emos before releasing his grip on your tormentor's fist. Turning towards the approach of Dena, you catch a look of embarrassment slip over Sir Oren's features and you almost reach out to assuage his worries. But all thoughts of Sir Oren and Emos disappear as the sight of Dena fills your vision. Your knees feel weak and you stare with wide eyes at the $Dgender you never thought you would see again. Dena is dressed finely with a coat embellished in gold thread and rings that glisten along $Dhis fingers. The years have aged Dena and where there was once a youthful mischief, now lies a fierce determination. As you note Dena's appearance, knowing that $Dhe is here fills you with... <<set $chp8_34A1 to 0>> [[...joy. It has been years since you have seen Dena and you are happy for the unexpected meeting.|chp8_35][$chp8_34A1 +=1]] [[...confusion. You are uncertain what to make of Dena's reappearance.|chp8_35][$chp8_34A1 +=2]] [[...conflicting emotions. Happiness shifts into confusion, before it swirls into something furious at seeing Dena again.|chp8_35][$chp8_34A1 +=3]] [[...anger. It would seem that despite everything that has happened, Dena still keeps the same friends.|chp8_35][$chp8_34A1 +=4]] [[...a fluttering warmth. You are suddenly reminded of the feelings you harboured for Dena.|chp8_35][$chp8_34A1 +=5]]

Anu scoffs, her grip on Emos unrelenting. For a moment, you fear that she will ignore the cry of Dena in favour of hurting Emos, but to your relief; or perhaps it is something far more complicated than that, Anu releases Emos and stands to her full height. She does not meet your gaze. Instead, she turns towards the approach of Dena and you find yourself following her gaze. Your knees feel weak and you stare with wide eyes at the $Dgender you never thought you would see again. Dena is dressed finely with a coat embellished in gold thread and rings that glisten along $Dhis fingers. The years have aged Dena and where there was once a youthful mischief, now lies a fierce determination. As you note Dena's appearance, knowing that $Dhe is here fills you with... <<set $chp8_34A1 to 0>> [[...joy. It has been years since you have seen Dena and you are happy for the unexpected meeting.|chp8_35][$chp8_34A1 +=1]] [[...confusion. You are uncertain what to make of Dena's reappearance.|chp8_35][$chp8_34A1 +=2]] [[...conflicting emotions. Happiness shifts into confusion, before it swirls into something furious at seeing Dena again.|chp8_35][$chp8_34A1 +=3]] [[...anger. It would seem that despite everything that has happened, Dena still keeps the same friends.|chp8_35][$chp8_34A1 +=4]] [[...a fluttering warmth. You are suddenly reminded of the feelings you harboured for Dena.|chp8_35][$chp8_34A1 +=5]]

You are uncertain what to make of Dena as you take in $Dhis appearance. Since you last saw $Dhim, Dena has changed. There are faint lines around $Dhis mouth as though it was etched into $Dhis skin from smiling too often. The clothes that Dena wears is finer than you remembered it being, with rich fabric and embroidered thread along the sleeves of $Dhis coat. Dena turns to face you with a look of surprise and beneath it, joy. As you note Dena's appearance, knowing that $Dhe is here fills you with... <<set $chp8_34A1 to 0>> [[...joy. It has been years since you have seen Dena and you are happy for the unexpected meeting.|chp8_35][$chp8_34A1 +=1]] [[...confusion. You are uncertain what to make of Dena's reappearance.|chp8_35][$chp8_34A1 +=2]] [[...conflicting emotions. Happiness shifts into confusion, before it swirls into something furious at seeing Dena again.|chp8_35][$chp8_34A1 +=3]] [[...anger. It would seem that despite everything that has happened, Dena still keeps the same friends.|chp8_35][$chp8_34A1 +=4]] [[...a fluttering warmth. You are suddenly reminded of the feelings you harboured for Dena.|chp8_35][$chp8_34A1 +=5]]

Dena gazes at you, as though committing your face to $Dhis memory and as you stand before $Dhim, you take in the slight changes in $Dhis features. The green of Dena's eyes seem brighter than they had been when you were younger and the fairness of $Dhis skin has been darkened from the sun, a nearly golden hue that speaks of a life spent at sea. "You cannot be considering to let $MChim stay," Emos interrupts. His voice is hollow and low. There is a desperation in his eyes that reminds you of a fish caught in a net. "After everything that has happened to Salt Bay, you cannot let $name stay, Dena." For a moment, you had almost forgotten Emos in the chaos of seeing Dena once again. But as his words cut through the air, causing it to thicken with mounting pressure, you find your muscles tensing in expectation of another attack. "$name is not responsible for the attack on Salt Bay," Dena breathes. "The Blood Guard were never after $MChim." Emos scoffs, "Everyone died so that $name could flee like the coward $MChe is." His words cut through your chest and twist painfully as a sharp ache embeds itself within your ribs. You remember that night of bloodshed and destruction, smelling the heavy stench of death and smoke in the air as you fled while your father gave up his life. Perhaps Emos is right. You fled when everyone else perished. "That is enough," Queen Elora speaks as she steps forward. "We are here to meet with the leader of the traders, not trade barbs like children." Dena nods and forces a smile to $Dhis lips. "You are right. Allow me to apologise, Your Majesty. I believe that you were expecting me at the harbour. I am Dena, Ruler of the Fleets. Welcome to the Southern Islands." [[Next.|chp8_37]]

<<set $location to "Stormkeeper Plaza, Southern Islands">><div class="timeline">Stormkeeper Plaza, Southern Islands</div> The heat of the island weighs heavily against your brows. Sweat clings to your skin and you suddenly wish that you were allowed to change your drenched tunic and rough trousers before discussing the prospects of an alliance. Dena quickly led you and your companions away from the glare of the sun to an expansive building that offers little shelter from the humidity. Sitting at a long table, you find yourself seated on the left of Dena. Glancing at $Dhim, you catch a wide smile on $Dhis lips. In the seat beside you, you find... <<set $dena_seat to 0>> [[...Prince Irus.|chp8_38][$dena_seat +=1]] [[...Queen Elora.|chp8_38][$dena_seat +=2]] [[...Sir Oren.|chp8_38][$dena_seat +=3]] [[...Anu.|chp8_38][$dena_seat +=4]]

<<if $dena_seat is 1>> Prince Irus sits tall in his seat and despite his rumpled coat and tired eyes, he still makes an impressive figure at the table. Your gaze on him does not go unnoticed and Prince Irus turns to glance at you. All at once, the harshness in his face softens slightly and he offers you a tentative smile. You are reminded that once more, you will be expected to support Prince Irus in his endeavour to secure an alliance. <<if $irus_lock is true>>Prince Irus reaches out and brushes his fingers along the back of your knuckles. Despite the heat, you shiver and you glance down at where his thumb lingers. A sudden burst of laughter draws your eyes towards the sound and you find Dena staring at where Prince Irus' hand rests against yours. "I am surprised at your closeness," Dena remarks, glancing at you before looking at Prince Irus. "I have heard rumours that you are nothing like your father but this is far beyond what I expected." Prince Irus' jaw tightens. "I am courting $name. What of it?" Dena shakes $Dhis head as the smile on $Dhis face widens. "Nothing at all. I am only expressing my curiosity."<<else>>Prince Irus lets out a breath and you watch as his shoulders tense under his coat. He turns to face you and you note the flicker of uncertainty that swirls within the blue of his eyes. Neither of you know what to expect and sitting beside Prince Irus, you find that his nervousness is evident in the way he fidgets with the edges of the table. "There is no need to look so worried, Your Highness," Dena states, glancing at Prince Irus. There is a small grin on $Dhis lips that is tinged with something beyond simple concern. "All you have to do is simply charm me with your good looks and I am certain the talk of an alliance will go well." You almost choke at Dena's brazeness and glancing at Prince Irus, you find that his blue eyes have grown wide in stunned silence. He opens his mouth to respond but whatever he must want to say does not leave his lips, for instead, he mumbles in a low voice. "Yes, well, thank you," Prince Irus breathes.<</if>> <<elseif $dena_seat is 2>> Queen Elora remains quiet beside you and as you turn to take in her appearance, you note the thin press of her lips as though she is refraining from speaking aloud. Her eyes are dark pools that seem to brim with a myriad of emotions and when she turns to meet your gaze, you are suddenly struck by the depths of her cunning expression. <<if $elora_lock is true>>The expression soon fades as her gaze takes in your features. You grow warmer under her gentle smile and shiver when you feel the softness of her breath against your cheeks, you draw closer to her. Queen Elora's smile grows at your proximity and though she does not say anything, you note the hint of playfulness in her face. "Oh, what is this?" Dena asks, $Dhis voice cutting through the mounting heat between you and Queen Elora. "Do not tell me that you are involved. Your mother must not know, am I correct?" Queen Elora's lips pull into a scowl. "What my mother knows or not is none of your concern. I am here as an ally to His Highness." Dena shrugs but you catch the concerned look $Dhe casts you. Suddenly, the tension feels far heavier than it did before.<<else>>She regards you for a moment, allowing the severity of her expression to ease into one that you have become familiar with in the weeks that you have spent together. A small smile pulls at the corners of her lips but you notice that it does not reach her dark eyes and you wonder if it has something to do with her familial connections to the Southern Islands. "I must say that it is an honour to have you here with us, Your Majesty," Dena states, offering Queen Elora a smile. "It has been far too long since your last visit." Queen Elora smiles, but it is brittle. "Yes, well leading a kingdom does not allow me the time it does my mother to spend months away on an island." Dena's smile falters but $Dhe quickly forces away the unease on $Dhis expression. "Of course. You are right."<</if>> <<elseif $dena_seat is 3>> Despite his full armour, Sir Oren does not seem to be bothered by the heat as much as you. He holds himself with the ease of a well-trained soldier and you cannot help the stab of envy you feel towards him when you find no sheen of sweat lining his skin. He turns towards you, as if sensing your gaze and offers you a small smile. <<if $orenRom gte 60>>There is a gentleness in Sir Oren's expression that causes your skin to flush under his gaze. You swallow, unable to stop the curl of your lips as it tugs upwards into widening smile. The corners of his eyes crinkle and for a moment, you forget that you are surrounded by your companions. "You two look cosy together," Dena comments, glancing at you and then Sir Oren with a sly smile. "Some might even think you are courting." Sir Oren chokes and you turn to stare at him in concern. His cheeks darken and you watch as he tries and fails to speak, his voice suddenly lost as he tries to regain his breath. Frowning, you glance at Dena but your old companion only raises $Dhis eyebrow at you. "You should tease Sir Oren like that," you respond. "We are not courting so I would ask that you refrain from making speculations." Dena rests $Dhis chin at the base of $Dhis palm. "You are not courting yet it would seem your Captain might want to."<<else>>Sir Oren's presence beside you is a calming one. Despite the seriousness of the alliance, you find that he holds himself with a steadiness that is enough to allay your nervousness. He glances at you and offers you a simple nod, but you catch the flicker of warmth in his hazel eyes. "I must say Captain, it is a surprise to see someone this young leading the Vinian Royal Guard," Dena remarks. Sir Oren stiffens in his seat and when he speaks, his words are stilted. "I owe my place to Her Majesty." Dena tilts $Dhis head as he gaze at Sir Oren. "That may be so, but I do believe you are far more skilled than you let on."<</if>> <<elseif $dena_seat is 4>> Anu is irritable. You can see it in the way that she sits beside you, her grey eyes roaming over the room as if expecting an attack from the shadows. You shift in your seat, noting the way her fingers press into the table's edge and the way she crosses and uncrosses her legs. The heat does not seem to bother her nearly as much as being surrounded by Dena's people. <<if $anuRom gte 55>>Her grey eyes slowly flick towards you, settling on your features for a moment longer than necessary. You swallow a sharp breath and much to your chagrin, it does not go unnoticed by Anu. She nears you, her heat like the flames of a roaring fire, as you shudder from her nearness. Anu's eyes slip towards your mouth before they draw back to meet your gaze. It suddenly becomes difficult to form words or to think. "Should we vacate the room to give you both some privacy?" Dena asks. Your eyes widen and you turn to stare in mild horror at your old companion. Dena only grins when $Dhe catches your expression and you find your stomach knotting painfully as you realise that everyone must have witnessed your response to Anu's closeness. "That would be appreciated," Anu speaks. "I much prefer $name's company to rest of you." Dena chuckles. "Unfortunately, we have important matters to discuss, but perhaps afterwards, you will get your wish."<<else>>Glancing at you, Anu only raises an eyebrow. Like you, she has never travelled to the Southern Islands before though perhaps unlike you, she seems unfazed by being in a new region. You surmise that she must not care or that she is very good at masking her unease. "You are from Ishari," Dena states, glancing at Anu. Anu frowns, her eyes narrowing as she regards Dena. "I am. Are you going to send me away like your one-armed man wanted to do to $name?" Shaking $Dhis head, Dena raises $Dhis palms to placate the harshness of Anu's words. "I apologise again. Emos' opinions do not represent the opinions of us all. He is grieving still for the home and family he lost." "When he is persecuted for his heritage, perhaps then I will offer him sympathy," Anu snaps.<</if>> <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_39]]

The arrival of attendants interrupts the conversation as the offer carafes of honeyed ciders that tickle the back of your nose as you sip the contents of your goblet. As you you settle into your seat, feeling the press of the cushion beneath your back and thighs, you allow your gaze to travel across the walls. It is a beautiful room; ornate in the traditional way with its gold trimming around the edges of the ceiling and a mosaic of red and blue tiles covering every inch of the floor. Sunlight streams in through the windows, casting long shadows onto the carpeting which stretches all the way to the far wall of the room. The room is opulent. It is evident that from the fine furniture and the murals that adorn the walls that the people of the Southern Islands have more means that many you have met. Your eyes slip towards Dena once more. In your years apart, you realise that Dena has found far more success in $Dhis life than you have in yours. [[Next.|chp8_40]]

Dena is the first to speak, breaking the quietness that settled over your companions. Glancing at Queen Elora and then at Prince Irus, Dena smiles. It is a smile that reminds you of the courtiers in Aspal, though there is a sharpness in Dena's green gaze that speaks of a hidden motive. "You must forgive me for the poor welcome," Dena explains. "I have been a terrible host, but you must understand that things are not as easy in the Southern Islands, nor in the Ilse of Mennear." There had been traders and merchants around you, though you recall the faces of the impoverished who lingered close to the docks. It would appear that not even the Southern Islands are untouched by the plights of poverty and the consequences of the war. <<set $chp8_40 to 0>> [["What troubles the Southern Islands?" you ask.|chp8_41][$chp8_40 +=1]] [["There seems to be an abundance in wealth here," you reply. "Certainly the troubles you face can be easily remedied."|chp8_41][$chp8_40 +=2]] [["You sound as if you are about to request something," you remark, frowning at Dena.|chp8_41][$chp8_40 +=3]] <<if $politics gte 65 or $politics gte 65>>[["You must be referring to the concerns over the leadership in the Southern Islands," you respond.|chp8_41][$chp8_40 +=4]]<</if>>

<<if $chp8_40 is 1>> "What troubles the Southern Islands?" you ask. Dena turns to meet your gaze before staring down at $Dhis goblet. For a moment, $Dhe does not speak though you can tell from the expression on Dena's face that it is not for a lack of an answer. When the silence becomes heavy, Dena lets out a breath and speaks in a measured tone. "Many things," $Dhe murmurs. "Though you might see it at first, the Southern Islands have not been faring well in the past years." Anu scoffs, glancing at Dena with a narrowed gaze. "You must not know what suffering feels like. Your island is thriving far better than Ishari." Dena nods slightly, a bitter smile twisting at the edges of $Dhis lips as he speaks, "You are right. It would seem that we are thriving. But our leadership is fractured. Sovereign Baen is ailing and his succession is in dispute." <<elseif $chp8_40 is 2>> "There seems to be an abundance in wealth here," you reply. "Certainly the troubles you face can be easily remedied." Dena smiles, though the expression in $Dhis green eyes are hard and distant and seems to flicker with thinly veiled anger. It is a look you have never seen on your old companion's face and yet, Dena wears it as if it is one that $Dhe has worn often. Your eyes drift to the glittering rings and fine coat that Dena wears. There is an abundance of wealth in the Southern Islands, wealth that could help the war and solve any troubles. "You would think that," Dena replies. "Yet, I have all the wealth across the Southern Seas and there is still darkness in the isles around me." "You are speaking in riddles," Queen Elora comments, as she casts Dena an unimpressed look. Dena's smile falls away and in its place is a bitter scowl. "Forgive me. I will be clear with you all. Sovereign Baen is dying and there are many who are contesting his succession for the Southern Islands." <<elseif $chp8_40 is 3>> "You sound as if you are about to request something," you remark, frowning at Dena. In your childhood, you remember the way people would haggle over the prices of fish and wares. Their eyes would turn sly and their words would become shrouds to hide the meaning of what they wanted. It is the same tone and expression you see reflected in the face of Dena and it is one that you find disconcerting. "You were always clever, $name," Dena replies, offering you a small smile. "But you are correct. There is something else that I wish to discuss." "Discuss or request?" Sir Oren questions. His expression is expressionless, but you note the suddent tension in his stance. Dena glances at Sir Oren for a moment, as though contemplating his answer. When he speaks, his voice is unwavering and deep. "A little of both, Captain. You see, the Southern Islands is ruled by a dying leader. Sovereign Baen is ailing and there has been disagreements of his succession." <<elseif $chp8_40 is 4>> "You must be referring to the concerns over the leadership in the Southern Islands," you respond. Dena glances at you sharply. "You have heard about it then?" You recall Queen Elora's words to you about the Southern Islands before your depature. There had been mention of a civil war and from the tension in Dena's stance, you realise that there had been far more truth to that information. When you do not respond, Dena lets out a huff and runs $Dhis hand over $Dhis face. "How will the trouble with the leadership affect a proposed alliance?" Prince Irus asks. "You would not bring this up now if it were not important." Dena nods. "Yes. I would not have mentioned it if it were not important, Your Highness. Our leader, Sovereign Baen is ailing. He has mostly ruled peacefully but there are many who contest his succession." <</if>> "So what does this mean?" you ask. "How does Sovereign Baen's succession affect an alliance?" Dena opens $Dhis mouth to speak but it is Queen Elora who answers. You turn to face her and catch the look of fury in her eyes. It is an unexpected emotion to see in the young queen's face during a meeting for an alliance and you wonder if her connection to the Southern Islands goes deeper than her mother hailing from the region. "Baen did not care who his people allied with," Queen Elora mutters. "Not everyone supports an alliance with Prince Irus. After all, Virion has more than enough support from the ranks of the nobles here." [[Next.|chp8_42]]

The implications of Queen Elora's words suddenly become evident as you realise that your journey to the Southern Islands might prove to be futile. After all, how can any of you be expected to solve a dispute over leadership when Prince Irus has yet to secure his own throne? "It is not nearly as dire," Dena explains, casting a reassuring look around the table. "We only need to ensure that the leader chosen will support an alliance with His Highness." Anu snorts. "You are propositioning yourself. That is what this is about." Dena's lips pull upwards into a smile. "Alliances are about mutual benefits and I offer wealth and a fleet that would aid you in your cause. All I ask is for your support in securing my position." Prince Irus' eyebrows furrow. "I do not understand. How could I support you in this?" "He is talking about me," Queen Elora sighs. She glances at Prince Irus, before her eyes meet yours for a moment as she speaks. "Sovereign Baen is my uncle." Dena nods. "Then you will help me in this cause?" "You must swear to an alliance with Prince Irus first," Queen Elora retorts. "Regardless of the leader, you have a fleet that we require to win this war." "You are good at bargaining, Your Majesty. Very well, I will agree to your terms," Dena replies. Standing from the table, you watch as Dena smiles widely. "Now that is settled, perhaps you will enjoy the rooms I have prepared for you." You watch as attendants enter the room, leading your companions out. As you turn, you find Queen Elora unmoving as she stands stiffly beside Dena. She catches your gaze and the look in her dark eyes flickers with uncertainty. "Will you join us, $name? I would be grateful for the company," Queen Elora explains. <<set $chp8_stay to false>> [[Join Queen Elora and Dena.|chp8_43A]] [[Retire to your rooms.|chp8_43B][$chp8_stay to true]]

You nod, moving to stand beside Queen Elora. Behind you, your companions are escorted away by Dena's attendants, though you note that Queen Elora's personal guards remain behind. As you gaze at Queen Elora, she offers you a small smile and you find an expression of relief on his face. "I will join you," you agree. Dena glances at you. "It is good to have you with us, $name. I am certain that we have much to talk about." <<set $chp8_43A to 0>> [["I would like that," you reply as you smile at Dena.|chp8_43A1][$chp8_43A +=1]] [["Perhaps we can discuss how you have managed to gather this much wealth since we last spoke," you remark.|chp8_43A1][$chp8_43A +=2]] [["There is not much to discuss," you mutter. "You left Salt Bay, as did I."|chp8_43A1][$chp8_43A +=3]] [["I did not think I would see you again," you murmur.|chp8_43A1][$chp8_43A +=4]] [["We are not friends, Dena," you retort. "I am only here for Queen Elora."|chp8_43A1][$chp8_43A +=5]]

Your eyes meet Queen Elora's before you follow the retreating backs of the rest of your companions. Weariness threatens to consume your thoughts and the painful press against your shoulders weighs heavily. Shaking your head, you glance at Queen Elora with a rueful expression. "I am afraid that I will have to decline," you respond. Queen Elora nods. "Of course. I understand, $name. Keep an eye on the others, will you?" You begin to respond but your words barely make it past your lips when Dena begins to lead Queen Elora away. You stand there for a moment, watching as they depart before your thoughts are interrupted. A young attendant appears at your side with a small smile. "Your rooms are ready for you," he explains. "Allow me to escort you there." [[Next.|chp8_43B1]]

<<if $chp8_43A is 1>> "I would like that," you reply as you smile at Dena. Dena returns your smile and you are reminded of all those years ago, when you first met $Dhim. Those around you seemed to only to see you for the muddied bloodline you possessed, but Dena did not care for that and standing before $Dhim once more, you are aware that for a moment in your past, Dena had been a true friend to you. "Good," Dena responds, smiling wider at you. "I look forward to it." Queen Elora glances at Dena with a frown. "I would hope that reminiscing can wait until after I speak with my uncle." Dena bows $Dhis head and you note the tug at the corner of $Dhis lips. "Of course, Your Majesty. You must forgive me. It has been years since I last saw $name." <<elseif $chp8_43A is 2>> "Perhaps we can discuss how you have managed to gather this much wealth since we last spoke," you remark. Your wry tone of voice does not go unnoticed and Dena stares at you before a bellowing laugh escapes $Dhim. A frown pulls at your mouth as you watch Dena's shoulders tremble. The attire $Dhe wears is far finer than anything you have ever owned and the rings that glisten against $Dhis long fingers are a reminder that the $Dgender before you is not the same person you met in Salt Bay. "Oh, $name," Dena chuckles. "You have gotten funnier since we last saw each other." By the amusement in $Dhis green eyes, you can tell that Dena is mocking you. There is no bite in the words $Dhe speaks, yet, it is as though Dena is dancing around the answer you seek. It is Queen Elora who speaks, interrupting the sharpness of Dena's laughter. "Now is not the time for jests," Queen Elora states. "I believe you have far greater issues to deal with." Dena nods, bowing slightly. "Yes, of course. My apologies, Your Majesty." <<elseif $chp8_43A is 3>> "There is not much to discuss," you mutter. "You left Salt Bay, as did I." You stare at Dena, silently daring $Dhim to disagree with you but after a moment, it becomes evident that $Dhe will not. Meeting all those years ago did not change the person you became. Dena left long before you were forced to flee and in the years since then, you have come to realise that there is little to talk about. "I am certain there are some things you would like to learn about," Dena replies. Your eyebrow arches. "I do not think I do, Dena. We are not the same people we used to be and your stories of the sea do not impress me as they once did." Dena's lips press together into a sullen frown and $Dhe stares at you, as though $Dhe can read your thoughts. You meet the green irises of $Dhis eyes and take in the sharpness of $Dhis features where the years have aged $Dhim. Once, Dena was an impressive $Dgender when you were too young to understand a life beyond Salt Bay, but now that you have seen more than the small hamlet, Dena's words do not hold the same sway over you as they did before. "Stories will have to wait," Queen Elora interjects as her dark eyes focus on Dena. "My uncle, I have heard, is an impatient man." Dena bows $Dhis head. "Of course, Your Majesty." <<elseif $chp8_43A is 4>> "I did not think I would see you again," you murmur. Your words are muffled by the sudden surge of despair that curls around them. It has been years since you last saw Dena and the notion of seeing $Dhim again seemed far more unattainable with each year that passed. Dena glances at you and the brightness of $Dhis green eyes dull slightly. "I wanted to return," Dena breathes. "But thinks were not so simple, $name." There is a deep sadness etched in Dena's face, a feeling of a pain that goes deeper than what $Dhe seems willing to share. You swallow. Sorrow is an all too familiar emotion that has lingered in your chest and you are unwilling to broach such a severe subject when there is still a war looming ahead. "I am certain that you will both have time to discuss what has happened," Queen Elora says, suddenly stepping forward. "But now is not the time." Dena lets out a breath, as if $Dhe is relieved for the distraction. "Of course, Your Majesty." <<elseif $chp8_43A is 5>> "We are not friends, Dena," you retort. "I am only here for Queen Elora." <<if $elora_lock is true>>Queen Elora's dark eyes flick towards you with open surprise. You turn, meeting her stare and find yourself warming under the depths of her dark gaze. A small smile pulls at the corners of her lips and you almost take a step towards her in response. It is Dena who lets out a amused huff that draws your attention away. "I see," Dena remarks. "I would hope that you would have some time between swooning over Her Majesty and being smitten to talk to me."<<else>>Queen Elora arches a dark eyebrow at you before a smile draws at the corners of her lips. It is true that you know Dena from a childhood you sometimes wish to forget, but you have spent far more time in the presence of Queen Elora. Dena lets out a breathless laugh, garnering your attention as $Dhe glances at you. "I must admit, your words do sting, $name," Dena replies. "I was hoping that our shared past would have meant more to you."<</if>> "That is enough," Queen Elora interrupts. She draws closer and positions herself beside you. "$name has made $MChis decision and I suggest you respect that." Dena glances at Queen Elora. The smile on $Dhis lips suddenly appears sharper than it had seconds ago. Bowing $Dhis head, Dena speaks in a deferent tone. "Of course, Your Majesty," $Dhe murmurs. "Your will is my command." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_43A2]]

With Dena's gaze no longer on you, you allow yourself a moment to observe those who have remained behind. Queen Elora's personal guards stand stiffly a few paces behind her. The attendants from earlier have taken their leave and in their place you find what appears to be guards dressed in similar shades of blues and greens. Dena gestures towards the men and women who stare at you and Queen Elora with severe expressions. "These are my guards," Dena explains. There is a stilted pause, before a small burst of laughter escapes $Dhim. "Perhaps calling them guards is not the right word. They are rather warriors from different regions." "Warriors?" Queen Elora asks. Dena nods. "Those who would rather fight for wealth and prestige abandon the realms who engage in useless wars to join me on my ships. They protect my wares and the merchants who trade them and in return, they are rewarded handsomely." "Why are you telling us this?" you question. It is Queen Elora who speaks first. "It is an act of intimidation, I would assume. Your old friend seems far less friendly than $Dhe would like to appear." Dena grins. "It is nothing so crass, Your Majesty. Just as you have retained your own protection, so have I. Visiting Sovereign Baen without a retinue is akin to walking into the middle of the battlefield without armour or a weapon." Dena begins to walk. "Come now. The carriages have been prepared." As you and Queen Elora begin to follow Dena, you cannot help but wonder what type of man Sovereign Baen is. You glance at Queen Elora and note the way worries her lower lip between her teeth. She is worried, you realise. <<set $chp8_43A2 to 0>> [["Your uncle seems like he will be difficult to convince," you whisper.|chp8_43A3][$chp8_43A2 +=1]] [["Is Sovereign Baen truly that powerful that we will require guards?" you ask.|chp8_43A3][$chp8_43A2 +=2]] [["You seem worried," you murmur. "Whatever happens, know that I am by your side."|chp8_43A3][$chp8_43A2 +=3, $eloraRel +=2]] <<if $elora_lock is true>> [[♡"I am here for you, Elora," you breathe as you slip your fingers through hers.|chp8_43A3][$chp8_43A2 +=4, $eloraRom +=5, $eloraRel +=2]] [[♡"Are you afraid of what your uncle will think about our courtship?" you tease, brushing against her side.|chp8_43A3][$chp8_43A2 +=5, $eloraRom +=5, $eloraRel +=2]] <</if>>

<<if $chp8_43A2 is 1>> "Your uncle seems like he will be difficult to convince," you whisper. Queen Elora exhales tiredly. She suddenly appears older than the woman she is. As you take in her appearance, you begin to notice the darkness under her eyes and the paleness of her brown skin. Her steps slow until she stands, hesitating as Dena continues forward without stopping to look back at you both. "He is a stubborn man," she responds. "If you think my mother is a difficult woman, my uncle is renowned for being far worse." You glance at Dena's retreating back. Worry begins to twist your stomach and your legs grow weak. For a moment, you almost think you will fall under the weight of what you have agreed to but then, Queen Elora's warm hand against your shoulder draws your eyes to her. "My uncle is cunning and he does not appreciate being undermined," Queen Elora explains. "But he is also frail and dying. My grandmother always told me that dying men are desperate men. There will be something he wants and that is what we must find out." <<elseif $chp8_43A2 is 2>> "Is Sovereign Baen truly that powerful that we will require guards?" you ask. Queen Elora does not respond immediately. Instead, her dark eyes follow the row of guards who keep in position as they follow Dena. You watch the warriors, some scarred and large while others seem far more suited to selling wares at the market. As a narrow woman passes you, you catch the glint of a hidden dagger and your heartbeat quickens. "My uncle is dying," Queen Elora explains. "He will expect an assassination before he would expect a plea from his niece." "Assassination?" you ask. "I have found that most nobles want power," Queen Elora responds. "Whether it is within the court of Vinia or whether it is deep in the lands of Cyre. It is no different here in the Southern Islands, $name. Many would rather kill my uncle than ask for his support in becoming his successor." "He is dangerous then," you murmur. Queen Elora nods. "Yes, he is." <<elseif $chp8_43A2 is 3>> "You seem worried," you murmur. "Whatever happens, know that I am by your side." Your words draw out a smile from Queen Elora and she turns to look at you. Her dark eyes swirl with warmth and she reaches out, gripping your forearm gently before she releases her grip. You are struck by the thought that the young queen has had to navigate the political nature of nobles from her youth and you wonder if she has ever had a reassuring face beside her throughout her negotiations. "I am grateful that you agreed to join us," Queen Elora responds. "I must admit, I have been ill at ease knowing that I will have to confront my uncle." "Is he a difficult man?" you ask. Queen Elora lets out a breath and frowns. "I cannot say what man he is. He has not spoken to me in years and his letters to my mother are always formal." "Do you think he will name Dena as his successor?" you ask. "I hope so, $name," Queen Elora ressponds. "It will be easier to have the alliance of the Southern Islands than to have only the aid of Dena and $Dhis fleet." <<elseif $chp8_43A2 is 4>> "I am here for you, Elora," you breathe as you slip your fingers through hers. Her fingers are warm and the graze of her thumb against the back of your knuckles sends a shiver through you. You look up and find her dark eyes on you. There is a lingering softness in her expression - one that warms your chest until it expands to the very tips of your toes. Queen Elora pauses her steps and draws closer to you. Her arm brushes against yours and you catch a glimpse of her smile. She squeezes your fingers gently before she releases your hand and draws her own to rest against her sides. "Thank you, $name," she murmurs. "I am fortunate to have you join me today, but I believe it is your affection that I am most grateful for." It is difficult to form words against the rising surge of heat that spills across your throat and slips over your tongue, weighing it with the unspoken emotions Queen Elora elicits from you. She smiles, almost teasing as she regards your expression. Gently, she brushes her fingers against the side of your cheek. You swallow a sharp breath. It is suddenly too warm and yet, you never want her to pull away. "Come," she breathes. "Before I am tempted to hide away with you." <<elseif $chp8_43A2 is 5>> "Are you afraid of what your uncle will think about our courtship?" you tease, brushing against her side. Your words are spoken in jest and yet, there is a sliver of curiosity that fills your tone. Meeting Sovereign Amera had proven to you that not all nobles will be as welcoming towards Prince Irus, and by extension, towards //you//. You wonder if Queen Elora's uncle will think poorly of you. While your heritage might not offend Soveriegn Baen as it did Emos, your upbringing was still far more humble than the ruler beside you. Queen Elora hesitates as she considers your words. She does not draw away from you, but she also does not meet your gaze. You glance down and find that her fingers are twisting into the material of her coat. Gently, you reach out and extricate her fingers from their taut grip. "Elora," you breathe. "It was a harmless remark. Think nothing of it." She turns then to stare at you. The darkness of her eyes are endless in its beauty and you find yourself at a loss for words. You search her expression, noting the small line of worry that creases between her eyebrows and the tension that weighs against her shoulders as she looks at you. "My family are fickle, $name," she murmurs. "They care more for status and wealth than they do of honour and courage. I... I want you to know that your affection and your sincerity is what I enjoy the most about you. Do not let the opionions of my family affect how you see our courtship." Her words are determined and the look in her eyes reflect the conviction of her feelings for you. You swallow, suddenly taken aback by the warmth that spreads through you and offer her a smile. "As you wish, Elora," you breathe. <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_43A4]]

Your conversation is halted as your eyes drift towards the path that Dena has led you on. The plaza filled with merchants and fishermen nearly seems like realms away now that you stand before a secluded shore. Water laps gently at a large boat, spacious enough to carry the guards of Queen Elora and Dena's retinue of warriors. "We will be travelling by boat?" you ask. Dena nods as $Dhe approaches the gangplank. "The isles are divided by ruling nobles and traders. As I possess the largest fleet, I manage the largest port of the Southern Islands." Glancing at you, Dena stretches out $Dhis palm towards you. "After you, $name." You stare at $Dhis hand and notice the upward curl of Dena's lips. <<set $chp8_43A4 to 0>> [[You take Dena's hand.|chp8_43A5][$chp8_43A4 +=1]] [[You ignore Dena's hand.|chp8_43A5][$chp8_43A4 +=2]] [[You turn away from Dena's proffered hand and instead help Queen Elora onto the boat.|chp8_43A5][$chp8_43A4 +=3]]

<<if $chp8_43A4 is 1>> Dena's hand is rough against yours. There are hard callouses against the skin of $Dhis knuckles and pads of $Dhis fingers. It speaks of a life experienced at sea, pulling at the ropes of sails and wielding a weapon. Dena meets your gaze, the green depths of $Dhis gaze glimmering with an expression of amusement as $Dhe tugs you onto the boat. "It is good to have you back, my friend," Dena murmurs. <<elseif $chp8_43A4 is 2>> Your eyes linger on Dena's outstretched palm and when you do not reach out to grip it, Dena lets it drop to $Dhis side. A sheepish expression flickers across Dena's face and $Dhe glances you with an almost apologetic look in $Dhis green eyes. "Forgive me," $Dhe mumbles. "It is an old habit with my sailors." <<elseif $chp8_43A4 is 3>> <<if $elora_lock is true>>It is not Dena who holds your attention, but the young queen behind you. Ignoring Dena's outstreched hand, you turn to face Queen Elora. She blinks, almost surprised by your gaze but it quickly shifts into an expression of warmth when you extend your hand towards her. "Thank you, $name," she laughs. "It is kind of you to offer your aid."<<else>>You stare for a moment at Dena's outstretched hand but when you do not grab it, $Dhe lets it fall to his side. Instead, your attention shifts towards Queen Elora who raises an eyebrow at you. Without speaking, you offer her your hand. She hesitates, glancing at your hand then at your face before a small smile pulls at her lips. "Thank you, $name," she breathes.<</if>> <</if>> It is not long before everyone is seated on the boat and you watch as one of Dena's warriors moves to stand at the helm. Slowly, the boat is pushed away from the shore and the small sails are unfurled as you drift towards the narrow inlets that dance between the isles. [[Next.|chp8_43A6]]

As the boat sails through the easy waters of the narrow inlets, you cast your eyes towards the shorelines of the isles around you. Beyond the harbour, you become aware of how much larger the Southern Islands are than at first glimpse. You spot wooden stalls, some large and others hastily made, scattered across the shores. Boats bearing unfamiliar insignias draw your attention. Dena, noticing your stare, offers you a smile. "We have cultivated trade with many regions beyond the realms that you might know." "How many regions do you trade with?" you ask. "There are many," Dena explains. "When I first took over the fleet, we had ties with a few regions just beyond the seas to the east. But now, we have ventured deeper into the deeper oceans and found kingdoms that are nearly twice as large as Cyre and Ishari put together." Your thoughts morph and twist, snapping as you try to make sense of Dena's words. Though you are not ignorant that there are regions beyond those you know, understanding that there are kingdoms larger than you have encountered fills you with... <<set $chp8_43A6 to 0>> [[...excitement. There are many regions that you still would like to explore.|chp8_43A7][$chp8_43A6 +=1]] [[...trepidation. You are uncertain how the people of the other regions will regard the war and those with your heritage.|chp8_43A7][$chp8_43A6 +=2]] [[...anger. You have been confined to one region for most of your life that you have only learnt about the regions beyond those you know.|chp8_43A7][$chp8_43A6 +=3]] [[...hope. Perhaps the people of the other regions will offer you aid in the war against the Blood Guard.|chp8_43A7][$chp8_43A6 +=4]] [[...indifference. Knowing that the other regions exist does not affect what is happening in the realms you do know.|chp8_43A7][$chp8_43A6 +=5]]

<<if $chp8_43A6 is 1>> Excitement thrums in your veins as you consider the thought of venturing beyond the borders of the kingdoms you have become accustomed to. It exhilarates you and you find yourself staring out at the sea. Beyond the waters that you sail are kingdoms larger than anything you have ever known. Perhaps they are even untouched by the war and the bloodshed that has gripped the regions you know for so long. You wonder about all the cultures you have not known and the people from the different regions you have never travelled to. Perhaps they will be welcoming like those in Vinia and perhaps, they will accept you as one of their own. The knowledge that there is still far more to discover leaves you breathless with the possibilities of what you might learn if you set sail. Dena eyes you, a glint in $Dhis green eyes and smiles. "You will not be disappointed in what you might find beyond our seas, $name. There are whole cities steeped in generations of knowledge and freedoms." <<elseif $chp8_43A6 is 2>> A sliver of doubt curls in the pit of your stomach. It writhes like a serpent strangling its spray and twists until you are gasping for breath. Your eyes dart towards the sea. Beyond the waters you have known for years are regions and kingdoms vaster than anything you have known. It fills you with fear and beneath it, a desperate thought of nervousness. The war between Ishari and Cyre is decades long and yet, you have never heard of these foreign kingdoms ever offering their aid. Perhaps, they do not care or perhaps they do not see the issue with the Blood Guard and their violence towards those who share your heritage. You look away from the sea, suddenly overwhelmed by what you have just learnt. "It is not nearly as bad as you might think, $name," Dena murmurs. The green of $Dhis eyes catches the sunlight and $Dhe offers you a reassuring smile. "There are more accepting regions out there than the ones you know." <<elseif $chp8_43A6 is 3>> A burning rage fills you, knowing that you have been kept away from much of the world for the most part of your life. You have never known a realm free of war and cities full of knowledge and culture that was not tinged by the mark of the Blood Guard. You frown as you glare at the sea. Your path has never been your own until now and even still, you are not free to explore the world beyond what you know. Your thoughts collide as your emotions of bitterness and anger struggle for dominance. Enduring hardships and loss has left you a withered figure of the $gender you could have been and knowing that it is solely because of the people around you making decisions without your knowledge leaves you scowling. "Perhaps when this is all over, you can join me on my trips to the realms beyond," Dena suggests, glancing at you with an appeasing smile. <<elseif $chp8_43A6 is 4>> The fluttering in your stomach swells until you can feel deep in the base of your chest. A surge of hopefulness fills you and you stare longingly at the sea, as though you will find the arrival of foreign nations willing to aid you in the war. You exhale sharply, suddenly aware that there are lands beyond your own which are safer for those affected by the war. Your thoughts drift to the knowledge of kingdoms larger than you can fathom existing. For most of your life, you have known nothing but Salt Bay. The people of your hamlet were the only people you knew for so long and you realise that it must be the same for others who are affected by the war like you. Dena smiles at you when $Dhis eyes catch your expression. "No one wants to support a war that kills thousands. There are regions who will offer aid to those who propose the right deals." <<elseif $chp8_43A6 is 5>> Your eyes travel across the sea and the horizon beyond the isles around you. As you search the barren horizons, you slowly come to the understanding that regardless if there are other regions that you have never known, their existence will not change the outcome of the war and the challenges that you must overcome. For decades the war between Ishari and Cyre has continued. Yet, no other region beyond those that share the same borders at Cyre have ever offered aid or allegience. You shake your head and push away the thoughts. No matter what happens, you will continue on your path even if it means turning away from the world beyond your knowledge. Dena glances at you with a frown on $Dhis face. "Not everyone supports wars in the other realms, $name. You only need to venture further out into the seas to find them." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_43A8]]

<<set $location to "Isle of Cassea, Southern Islands">><div class="timeline">Isle of Cassea, Southern Islands</div> The narrow inlet soon widens as the boat draws closer to a larger isle than that of Mennear. Above you, tall trees that seem to reach the clouds above, sway against the breeze and you catch glimpses of vibrantly dressed people navigating the stone paths beyond the cluster of merchants and stalls. As the boat reaches the dock, far grander though no larger than in Mennear, you are greeted by the sight of a tall building beyond the harbour. "The Isle of Cassea," Dena proclaims. "Home to the man we are to meet." Glancing at you and then Queen Elora, $Dhe grins. "I hope you are both ready to impress the nobles of the Southern Islands, for they are shrewd and cunning." Queen Elora frowns. "It is nothing that I am not accustomed to." Dena nods. "Of course, Your Majesty." Turning to you, Dena raises an eyebrow. "Are you ready, $name?" <<set $chp8_43A8 to 0>> [["I am," you respond. "We will do our best, Dena."|chp8_43A9][$chp8_43A8 +=1]] [["It makes me nervous," you admit. "But I believe this is the right thing to do."|chp8_43A9][$chp8_43A8 +=2]] [["This is not new to me either," you respond. "I am quite ready."|chp8_43A9][$chp8_43A8 +=3]] [["The result will tell us if I am ready enough," you reply, your tone neutral.|chp8_43A9][$chp8_43A8 +=4]] [["Let us get this over with," you grumble in annoyance.|chp8_43A9][$chp8_43A8 +=5]]

<<if $chp8_43A8 is 1>> "I am," you respond. "We will do our best, Dena." You hope that your sincerity can be heard in your tone. There is more than simply Dena's fate resting on your success today. Prince Irus is in need of allies and you are not foolish enough to think that you can go against the Blood Guard and Virion without a fleet of ships and warriors to aid you. Dena smiles in response, $Dhis green eyes warming as $Dhe meets your gaze. "That is kind of you, $name. I appreciate your help in this." Nodding, you return $Dhis smile and move to follow the warriors that lead you away from the boat and towards a long path. It is made of smooth stone and is wide enough to let Dena's warriors and Queen Elora's guards to take their positions on either side of you and your companions without issue. <<elseif $chp8_43A8 is 2>> "It makes me nervous," you admit. "But I believe this is the right thing to do." Dena's dark eyebrows furrow in the middle of $Dhis forehead. Meeting your eyes, Dena offers you a reassuring smile and it causes your anxiousness to abate slightly. "You need not be nervous, $name. You are helping me and that is all that matters." You study Dena's expression, searching for some sign of deception but when you find none, you let out a breath and return $Dhis smile. Dena's smile widens and $Dhe nudges your shoulder affably. The twisting of your stomach settles into a gentle tug and you remind yourself that you are not alone in your bid to help Dena. Dena draws away as $Dhis warriors begin to lead your group away the boat and towards a wide, stone path. It leads away from the harbour and is smooth beneath your boots. You gaze towards your companions as they flank either side of you and try to fill your mind with the determination you see set into their expressions. <<elseif $chp8_43A8 is 3>> "This is not new to me either," you respond. "I am quite ready." Before fleeing, you had never known any nobles or spoken to one. Yet, after joining Prince Irus in his bid to reclaim the throne, you have become familiar with courtly politics and the false smiles of nobles. Perhaps Dena was expecting the same $gender that $Dhe met in Salt Bay, but you are no longer the same and neither is $Dhe. "You sound confident," Dena remarks. You arch an eyebrow. "I am no stranger to politics." Dena smiles. "It was not an insult, $name. I am pleased to have you at my side today." You nod in response before turning to follow Dena's warriors. They begin to lead you and your companions away from the harbour and towards a wide path that easily fits Dena's warriors and Queen Elora's guards as they surround you. There is little doubt that gaining the support of Sovereign Baen will be difficult, but you are determined to succeed. <<elseif $chp8_43A8 is 4>> "The result will tell us if I am ready enough," you reply, your tone neutral. You refuse to allow emotion to seep into your voice. An alliance with Dena rests on how successful you are today and allowing any doubts or over-confidence to influence you will only deter you from your goal. Turning towards Dena, you catch a look of surprise in $Dhis green eyes but it quickly disappears. "You are right, $name," Dena answers. "These things can change so suddenly. I only ask that you heed caution when speaking to the nobles. They are not nearly as kind as they might first seem." Nodding, you let Dena's words settle in the back of your mind. You have spoken to the nobles of Vinia and even dealt with the cunning of Queen Lamahu and this will be no different. As the warriors begin to lead you away from the harbour, you cast aside all other thoughts and focus on the task you have to achieve today. <<elseif $chp8_43A8 is 5>> "Let us get this over with," you grumble in annoyance. You cannot stop the irritation in your tone from showing. The thought that nobles would rather scheme and plot behind the gilded walls of a palace than help in securing a good leader is one that fills you with anger. Dena raises an eyebrow at you before offering you a wry smile. "Have you always been this impatient?" Dena asks. You face $Dhim and frown. "Only when it comes to entitled nobles." An amused snort escapes $Dhim but Dena does not deign to respond. Turning away from $Dhis gaze, you watch as the warriors move ahead of your group as they lead you up a smooth path. Your boots thud heavily against the ground as you march behind them, wanting nothing more than for today to be over. <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_43A10]]

It is not long before the path carries you farther from the noisy harbour and the curious stares of those around you. The building you noticed earlier from the harbour grows larger as you are led towards it. It sits tall and proud with walls that are painted a bright turquoise. Flags flap sharply against the wind which hang from precariously tall poles atop the dark roof. The palaces in Vinia and Ishari were larger than the building before you, yet you cannot think of another word to describe the grandeur of the arched doors and stained windows. Queen Elora moves to stand beside you and you note a flicker of apprehension in her eyes. "I have no memories of seeing my uncle's palace," she murmurs. "But my mother told me that when I was born, she brought me here to introduce me to the rest of our family." "Are you nervous?" you ask. She smiles but it does not reach her dark eyes. "Yes. But there is no use in dallying. Come, I already see some of my family peering at us from the front steps." [[Next.|chp8_43A11]]

Queen Elora moves to walk ahead and her guards move to flank her. She walks with the authority of a leader and any sign of nervousness you spotted only seconds ago is now replaced with an expression of determination. Following after her, you peer at the faces gathered at the front of the building. They do not look much like Queen Elora or Sovereign Amera and you wonder for a moment how large the young queen's family is. "Your Majesty, it is a pleasure to see you again." The voice belongs to a slim woman who stands much taller than Queen Elora. Though her expression is difficult to read, her tone is warmer than you expected it to be. Queen Elora seems almost as surprised, but her expression quickly smooths out into one of politeness. "Mohra," Queen Elora greets. "I am surprised that you remember me." The woman, Mohra, laughs. "Of course I remember you. You were a small thing when I last visited you but I would remember the face of my cousin anywhere." She glances at Dena and then you. "I knew you would be accompanying the Ruler of the Fleets, but who is this?" Queen Elora glances at you, before answering. "This is $name." <<set $chp8_43A11 to 0>> [["I am a friend of Queen Elora," you explain when Mohra peers at you.|chp8_43A12][$chp8_43A11 +=1]] [["Dena is an old friend of mine," you respond as Mohra frowns in confusion.|chp8_43A12][$chp8_43A11 +=2]] [["I am a companion of His Highness, Prince Irus," you reply under Mohra's inquisitive stare.|chp8_43A12][$chp8_43A11 +=3]] <<if $elora_lock is true>>[["Queen Elora is dear to me," you answer, avoiding Mohra's surprised look.|chp8_43A12][$chp8_43A11 +=4]]<</if>>

<<if $chp8_43A11 is 1>> "I am a friend of Queen Elora," you explain when Mohra peers at you. <<if $elora_lock is true>>Your words catch in the back of your throat and Queen Elora casts you a look of surprise. You meet her gaze before looking away, suddenly uncertain what the correct way to address your relationship with her is. Neither of you have discussed your new courtship with others and bringing it up to her cousin seems unwise. "A friend?" Mohra asks. She smiles at you. "How delightful to meet you." Queen Elora moves to stand beside you, her voice determined. "We are more than friends, Mohra. $name and I are courting." Mohra stares at Queen Elora. Her eyes widen slightly before she turns to look at you once more. Something in her expression shifts and the warmth that she greeted you with seems to ebb from her face. "I see," Mohra replies. "I did not realise you were courting anyone." Queen Elora smiles but it lacks any kindness. "Now you know. I expect $name to be treated respect."<<else>>You bow slightly to Mohra, aware that she must be related to Sovereign Baen and her impression of you might affect the success of your task. When you raise your eyes once more, you notice Mohra smiling widely at you. "It is a pleasure to meet you, $name," Mohra responds. "It is good to know that my cousin has not isolated herself in Vinia." A snort escapes Queen Elora. "It is difficult to isolate myself when my mother sees it fit to host banquets every month." Mohra's smile softens. "She only worries about you. You know that." An unreadable look flickers through Queen Elora's dark eyes before she smiles in response. Her tone is clipped when she speaks. "Yes, of course."<</if>> <<elseif $chp8_43A11 is 2>> "Dena is an old friend of mine," you respond as Mohra frowns in confusion. You glance towards Dena and find that $Dhe wears a wide smile on $Dhis lips. Though Queen Elora is related to Mohra, it is Dena that you are here to aid and you hope that in return, he will be able to support Prince Irus in the war against Virion. Dena shifts closer towards you and bows deeply towards Mohra. "My apologies, Mistress Mohra," Dena proclaims. "The arrival of $name was a great surprise and in my joy, I did not mention that I would be accompanied by $MChim. Will you forgive me, oh wise and beautiful Mistress?" Dena's words slip through the air like thick honey and overripe fruit. You are uncertain whether to balk at $Dhis boldness or to laugh at the sheer audacity of $Dhis tone. Glancing at Mohra, you find that she has decided to take Dena's words in jest and she offers him an amused smile. "That is quite alright, Dena," she answers. "There is no need to prostrate yourself. It is my father you want to impress, not me." Dena stands to $Dhis full height with a cheeky grin on $Dhis face. "It never hurts to butter up the daughter of the man I am to impress. Your understanding will not be forgotten." <<elseif $chp8_43A11 is 3>> "I am a companion of His Highness, Prince Irus," you reply under Mohra's inquisitive stare. The words slip out easily and you watch as Mohra's confusion grows. You realise after a moment that most would not care for those who aid Prince Irus in his bid to secure the throne, perhaps only caring to learn tha names of those important. You are neither important nor wealthy enough to garner much interest and yet, Mohra stares at you with a glimmer of curiosity. "You are friends with Prince Irus?" Mohra asks. <<if $irus_lock is true>>"They are courting," Queen Elora interrupts. "So stop your prying. You are certainly not his type." Mohra pouts. "That is not what I was asking. A shame though. I have heard that he is quite easy on the eyes."<<else>>"$name helped Iri escape Cyre. I would say that he would not have gotten this far with $MChim," Queen Elora interrupts. Mohra glances at you, suddenly smiling warmly as she reaches out to grip your hands. "You are a compassionate $gender. I am pleased to have met you, $name."<</if>> <<elseif $chp8_43A11 is 4>> "Queen Elora is dear to me," you answer, avoiding Mohra's surprised look. Neither you nor Queen Elora has spoken about your courtship and you are suddenly aware that proclaiming your feelings for the young ruler to her cousin might have been a mistake. You furtively glance in Queen Elora's direction and find her meeting your gaze with a warm smile. It is enough to stop the the ferocity of your thoughts from overwhelming you. "Dear?" Mohra asks. Her lips press into a thin line and her gaze feels sharper when she stares at you. "You must mean that you are dear friends." You frown. "No. That is not-" But it is Queen Elora who interrupts. She moves to stand closer to you and you feel the warmth of her fingers as she squeezes your hand gently. "Do not play the fool, Mohra. You understood well enough what $name said. We are courting." Mohra splutters. "What about your mother? Does she know?" Queen Elora glances at you and it is difficult to look away from the heat in her eyes. It spreads through your veins, warming you until you are breathless with a sudden yearning. "I am queen," she breathes. "I can court whomever I want to." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_43A13]]

Mohra is quiet for a moment as her eyes sweep over the three of you. She frowns when she notices the warriors and Queen Elora's guards before releasing a breath. Behind her, you note the wide doors that remain closed, hiding the interior of the looming building and you wonder what you can expect when you enter. "Father is entertaining nobles," Mohra explains. "He will be pleased to see you again, Elora." Queen Elora smiles, but the expression in her eyes only hardens. "Yes. Of course. It has been far too long since we last spoke." Mohra gestures to the warriors and guards. "Your protectors will have to wait in the courtyard. Father has only permitted his own guards to walk freely." She turns to face Dena. "Come, let us not tarry any longer." [[Next.|chp8_43A14]]

Mohra leads you through the arched doors and into a long hallway. The interior is even more beautiful than the exterior. Above you, brass lanterns flicker brightly with flames that cast deep shadows across the carpeted floor. On either side of you, you note elaborate tapestries depicting scenes of ships and voyages across the sea. As you follow behind Mohra, you turn to face your companions. Dena catches your look and offers you a wide smile and to your right, you note Queen Elora's quiet but calming presence. Whatever may come, you are not alone in this and the thought is enough to strengthen your resolve. Mohra leads you through an open archway, shrouded by thick curtains. Voices filter through the opening and as you step through the archway, you are greeted by elegantly dressed nobles and the honeyed scents of figs and mulled wine. Mohra glances at Queen Elora and then, Dena before she speaks. "Father will speak to you both shortly," she explains. "For now, enjoy yourselves and partake in our hospitality." She turns away, leaving you alone with Dena and Queen Elora. It is Queen Elora who breaks the tense silence. "I should speak to some of my family before speaking to my uncle," she explains. "It will help me understand his mood before pleading our case." Dena nods. "Then I shall speak to the nobles gathered. Not all are interested in pursuing the same goal as I am today and it will be good to see where I might find support." With their decisions made, you realise that you can accompany one of them on their tasks. <<set $chp8_43A14 to 0>> [[You accompany Queen Elora and choose to meet her family.|chp8_43A15A][$chp8_43A14 +=1]] [[You decide to speak to the gathered nobles with Dena.|chp8_43A15B][$chp8_43A14 +=2]]

You join Queen Elora as she weaves through the throngs of guests, careful not to stray too close to those who cast you sharp looks of disdain. Queen Elora turns to meet your eyes and slows her steps so that you are walking alongside each other. Despite having family in the same room you navigate, she too is not spared from the stares from those around you. "My family are fickle," she mutters under her breath. "And so are the friends they keep. The people here only care for one thing and that is what you can offer them in exchange for the fealty." "Is it always like this?" you question. She shrugs. "No. It depends on who sits on the seat of power. At the moment, it is my uncle but after tonight, it should be Dena." Your eyes drift towards Mohra and a thousand questions about the succession of power and leadership fills your mind. You return your attention to Queen Elora, knowing that she must have some insight for you. <<set $chp8_43A15A to 0>> [["Will Mohra not inherit your uncle's role?" you ask.|chp8_43A15A1][$chp8_43A15A +=1]] [["I do not understand," you murmur. "Your uncle can simply appoint his successor from anyone who pleads their case?"|chp8_43A15A1][$chp8_43A15A +=2]] [["Do you think that your uncle will be receptive of Dena's plea?"|chp8_43A15A1][$chp8_43A15A +=3]]

When it is clear that you will be accompanying Dena, $Dhe offers you a smile of gratitude. Leading you towards the other end of the room, you watch as Dena easily weaves through the throngs of gathered nobles. Some pause to greet $Dhim while others cast $Dhim thinly veiled stares of animosity. It seems that despite Dena's role in the Southern Islands, $Dhe has garnered both supporters and enemies in equal measure. "I am glad that you chose to accompany me, $name," Dena remarks. "Perhaps the views of an outsider will help aid me in my cause." You frown. "You think my insight will be helpful?" Dena turns to grin at you. "Of course. Everyone has been cooped up on these isles for years. Getting an outside perspective can bring some much needed change." You think about those who stared at Dena with hostility and those who seemed pleased to $Dhim. Alone, you decide to question the $Dgender from your past about $Dhis current role in the Southern Islands. <<set $chp8_43A15B to 0>> [["What does the role of Ruler of the Fleet actually entail?" you question.|chp8_43A15B1][$chp8_43A15B +=1]] [["You seem to have gathered many enemies amongst the nobles," you comment.|chp8_43A15B1][$chp8_43A15B +=2]] [["With your wealth, certainly you must be able to sway the nobles to support you," you explain.|chp8_43A15B1][$chp8_43A15B +=3]]

<<if $chp8_43A15A is 1>> "Will Mohra not inherit your uncle's role?" you ask Queen Elora pauses to pluck two flutes of a fragrant and clear drink. She hands you one and after a tentative sip, you are pleased when you taste a burst of honey mixed with the fruity tang of lemon against your tongue. Queen Elora smiles briefly before she responds to your question. "My uncle has never favoured Mohra for taking over his role as the leader," she explains. "He would rather see the power vest in someone he considers to be capable and powerful." "Your cousin is not these things?" you question. A scoff escapes Queen Elora. "Mohra is far more capable than my uncle believes her to be but he is stubborn and he is old. Truthfully, I cannot say if the thought has passed my uncle's mind or Mohra's for that matter. They are closer to my mother than they are to me." <<elseif $chp8_43A15A is 2>> "I do not understand," you murmur. "Your uncle can simply appoint his successor from anyone who pleads their case?" Queen Elora nods in response. "He can. The laws of the Southern Islands is quite different to most regions. After the isles were united under Sovereign Rabiah, anyone who could successfully plead their case and who garnered enough support could become the next leader." You turn, noticing the finely dressed nobles around you. If anyone could plead their case to become the next leader, it is evident that those gathered around you possess far more wealth than the poverty-stricken residents you spotted when you first arrived. Pausing to pluck two flutes of clear liquid, Queen Elora offers you one and smiles. "It is a system that I can neither condemn nor approve. It seems to appease the locals to continue this tradition, even if sometimes bad leaders are chosen." <<elseif $chp8_43A15A is 3>> "Do you think that your uncle will be receptive of Dena's plea?" Queen Elora's dark eyes shift towards the other side of the room where you catch sight of Dena in a deep conversation with a finely dressed noble. She frowns and returns her attention to you. There is a look of contemplation on her face, as though she is determining what she is willing to share with you. "I do not know," she answers. "From what I can tell, Dena knows most of the nobles gathered here and my cousin is familiar with him. But my uncle can be unpredictable and shrewd. He will not be easily swayed." She stops at a nearby table and plucks two flutes of clear liquid. Offering you one, you are pleased when you taste a fruity tang as you take a deep sip as Queen Elora does the same. The moment of quiet is interrupted when she speaks softly, as though afraid someone might overhear you. "I will speak to my family and see if I can bend their ears," Queen Elora explains. "My uncle always listens to Consort Etar." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_43A15A2]]

There is little left to be discussed for soon you are led to one side of the room. Plush cushions dyed a deep burgundy are scattered across the floor where a low table rests between them. You are greeted by a severe looking man who wears a stiff coat and golden rings along his fingers. "Consort Etar," Queen Elora greets. She drops to a low curtsy before rising to meet the severe man's dark eyes. "It is a pleasure to see you after so long." The man, Consort Etar, inclines his head slightly. His voice is gruff and deep, matching the sharpness of his gaze. "Your Majesty, I must admit that I did not believe my husband when he told me you were coming." Queen Elora's smile suddenly seems forced. "Of course. It must have been quite the surprise. Mother sends her regards." Consort Etar sneers. "Yes, she does write quite often. But enough about her." He stares at you pointedly. "Who might this be?" <<if $elora_lock is true>>"This is $name," Queen Elora replies. "$name aided Prince Irus when he fled Cyre and $MChe has become quite dear to me." "I believe courting is what Mohra described to me earlier," Consort Etar remarks. "Well, go on and say something. I do not bite."<<else>>"This is $name," Queen Elora replies. "$name aided Prince Irus after his exile and $MChe has become a good friend of mine." Consort Etar glances at you with a look of boredom. "I see. Do you not speak or must my niece introduce you to everyone?"<</if>> <<set $chp8_43A15A2 to 0>> [[You bow deeply as you greet Consort Etar with respect.|chp8_43A15A3][$chp8_43A15A2 +=1]] [[Your lips twist into a scowl as you glare at Consort Etar.|chp8_43A15A3][$chp8_43A15A2 +=2]] [[You cannot afford to provoke Consort Etar so you bow your head as you greet him.|chp8_43A15A3][$chp8_43A15A2 +=3]]

<<if $chp8_43A15A2 is 1>> You bow deeply from your waist. When you rise to your full height, you find Consort Etar gazing at you with an arched eyebrow but he no longer stares at you with his earlier disdain. "It is a pleasure, Consort Etar," you greet. Consort Etar waves his hand. "Etar is fine. I will no longer hold the title once my husband relinquishes his rule over the islands. Come, both of you sit awhile. I am not ignorant to the reason that you are here so ask what you must." <<elseif $chp8_43A15A2 is 2>> Your eyes narrow and your lips twist as you meet Consort Etar's stare. When you make no move to offer him a bow, the sneer on his lips deepens into a scowl and he sits up from the cushions. "My, Elora, you seem to have found the dirtiest of rats to <<if $elora_lock is true>>court<<else>>befriend<</if>>," he spits. "I would offer you a seat but I do not know how well-trained you keep your pets." You open your mouth to retort, but Queen Elora speaks first. Her voice is low and harder than you have ever heard before. "Do not speak about $name in that manner. You of all people should know what it is like not to be born to a family of wealth." Her words seem to strike Consort Etar painfully because he glances at you with a frown. "Very well. Sit then if you wish. I suppose I owe you that much since you came all this way to talk to me." <<elseif $chp8_43A15A2 is 3>> You never can understand the need for bowing to nobles and courtiers, yet, you are aware of how deeply offended they seem to get when you do not. Casting aside your pride, you allow yourself to bow before Consort Etar and when you rise to your full height, you catch a look of appraisal on his face as he gazes at you. "How very obedient of you," Consort Etar comments. "Have you learnt manners from my niece or are you simply trying to appease me?" "Enough," Queen Elora interrupts. "$name was simply showing you respect." Consort Etar glances at Queen Elora before smiling, though there is no warmth in his expression. "Of course. Then allow me to offer you a seat at my side. I am certain that neither of you wanted to discuss manners with me." <</if>> As you take a seat against the soft cushion, you turn to face Consort Etar. He lifts a brass goblet to his mouth and drinks deeply before he regards Queen Elora. He watches her with the cunning of a serpent before speaking. "You are here to help the Ruler of the Fleets tonight," he states. "Why?" "You know why," Queen Elora replies. Consort Etar nods his head. "Of course I know why you are aiding him." He turns to look at you. "And what of you, $gender whom I have never known until today. Why are you helping Dena?" <<set $chp8_43A15A3 to 0>> [["It is the best way to help Prince Irus to reclaim his throne," you answer.|chp8_43A15A4][$chp8_43A15A3 +=1]] [["Dena has offered us a fleet to fight against the Blood Guard," you respond.|chp8_43A15A4][$chp8_43A15A3 +=2]] [["It is right thing to do," you explain. "Dena is helping us and I wish to return the favour."|chp8_43A15A4][$chp8_43A15A3 +=3]]

<<if $chp8_43A15A3 is 1>> "It is the best way to help Prince Irus to reclaim his throne," you answer. "Ah, so it is simply a means to an end?" Consort Etar asks. You open your mouth to respond but he waves his hand, silencing you as his eyes search your expression. Uncertain what to make of his appraisal, you cast a glance towards Queen Elora but she does not meet your gaze. Instead, you find that her attention is on her uncle and the expression in her dark eyes are unreadable. Returning Consort Etar's look, you notice the glimmer of a smile on his lips. There is nothing unkind about his expression but it does nothing to erase the unease you feel. "I suppose that Prince Irus must seem like a better ruler than his uncle," Consort Etar murmurs. "But all rulers must make sacrifices in order to better their kingdoms, do you not agree?" You frown. "Killing people does not seem the way to better a nation." Consort Etar raises an eyebrow. "And do you truly believe that Prince Irus will make Cyre better?" "Enough," Queen Elora interrupts. "It matters not what you think is good governance. We are here for Dena, not to discuss the future of Cyre." <<elseif $chp8_43A15A3 is 2>> "Dena has offered us a fleet to fight against the Blood Guard," you respond. After encountering Nomad Tribe sailors and being attacked at sea, you are keenly aware of the advantage Dena's fleet will make when you eventually meet Virion and the Blood Guard in battle. Your words seem to surprise Consort Etar. His eyes shift towards where Dena stands on the other end of the room before he returns his attention to you. "Dena offered you his fleet?" Consort Etar asks. You frown. "Yes." Consort Etar stares at you then his eyes slip towards Queen Elora. "And you are aware of this offer?" Queen Elora nods. "Yes. It was an agreement we made. In return for aiding him today, $Dhe will provide us with $Dhis fleet." A burst of laughter escapes Consort Etar and your eyebrows raise in confusion. His laugh is deep and draws the stares of the nobles around you, but he seems unbothered by the looks. Eventually, his laughter eases and when he gazes at you and Queen Elora, you find him wearing a smile of mirth on his face. "I must admit, I knew that Dena was bold but not as brazen as to deceive you both," Consort Etar replies. "What are you talking about?" you question. He shrugs. "It is not my place to say. If you are curious, perhaps you should ask Dena about the debts $Dhe owes." <<elseif $chp8_43A15A3 is 3>> "It is right thing to do," you explain. "Dena is helping us and I wish to return the favour." "Ah, so it is an act of loyalty then?" Consort Etar asks. You nod. "It is only right." Helping Dena will ensure that $Dhis fleet and warriors will come to your aid when you face the Blood Guard and Virion in the eventual battle. You glance towards the other side of the room where Dena stands, surrounded by nobles and know that you are doing the right thing. You cannot expect Dena's aid without helping $Dhim in return. "Sometimes, loyalty is a dangerous thing to have," Consort Etar replies. "Take your friend, Dena, who is promising you $Dhis aid. But have you truly considered what it is that $Dhe wants in return?" "He wants our help to become Sovereign Baen's successor," you answer. Consort Etar fixes you with a sharp look. "And why is $Dhe so desperate to become ruler? Ask $Dhim this yourself and listen carefully to the answer $Dhe gives." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_43A15A5]]

Consort Etar's gaze flickers towards Queen Elora and for a moment, you catch the softening of his expression but it disappears almost as quickly as it appeared. He reaches out and grips her wrist gently, drawing her close. "You look every bit your grandmother," Consort Etar remarks. Queen Elora stiffens before she tugs her wrist free. "So you say." Consort Etar raises an eyebrow. "She was a good ruler. I see her in you, even if you do not believe me." A myriad of emotions slip through Queen Elora's eyes and she turns away. Your eyes catch hers and for the briefest of moments, you see raw vulnerability in her gaze. She offers you no explanation and from the way her uncle peers closely at her, you realise that she has no intention in voicing her feelings with an audience. "You must excuse us," Queen Elora murmurs. "There are many who I wish to speak to." Consort Etar frowns. "I see. Well do not let me keep you. We shall speak again soon." [[Next.|chp8_43A15A6]]

Queen Elora pushes away without responding and you hastily move to follow her. Her steps are quick, despite her small stature and you have to weave through the crowds to keep up with her pace. Eventually, you follow her out into a simple courtyard. There are fewer nobles here and you let out a breath as a cool breeze brushes against your skin. "I am sorry about my behaviour, $name," Queen Elora apologises. Her eyes catch yours for a moment before they dart away. "Being here brings back memories I would rather forget." "What do you mean?" you ask. Her fingers twist together before a sigh tears past her lips. "Consort Etar was close friends with my father before he met my uncle. I suppose in some ways, he has known me far better than Sovereign Baen." She looks at you. "When he compared me to my grandmother, it was not meant as a kindness." "I do not understand," you respond. "My grandmother was a good leader," Queen Elora explains. "She was kind and just. But there were times when her role as queen would take precedence over her role as a mother and grandmother to our family. I fear that I am becoming more like her every day." <<set $chp8_43A15A6 to 0>> [["If your grandmother is anything like you then I see it as a compliment," you reply. "You are a good ruler."|chp8_43A15A7][$chp8_43A15A6 +=1, $eloraRel +=2]] [["You can never truly be like your grandmother," you answer. "But I do not think that takes away from the ruler you are."|chp8_43A15A7][$chp8_43A15A6 +=2, $eloraRel +=2]] [["What does it matter what Consort Etar thinks?" you ask, frowning. "We are here to aid Dena and that is all that matters."|chp8_43A15A7][$chp8_43A15A6 +=3, $eloraRel -=2]] <<if $elora_lock is true>>[[♡"I think you are a wonderful leader," you breathe. "You are kind and you care for those around you."|chp8_43A15A7][$chp8_43A15A6 +=4, $eloraRom +=5, $eloraRel +=2]] [[♡"What does Consort Etar know about leading?" you ask. Drawing closer, you smile at Queen Elora. "You are a remarkable ruler, Elora."|chp8_43A15A7][$chp8_43A15A6 +=5, $eloraRom +=5, $eloraRel +=2]]<</if>>

<<if $chp8_43A15A6 is 1>> "If your grandmother is anything like you then I see it as a compliment," you reply. "You are a good ruler." Queen Elora meets your eyes and you catch the beginnings of a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. Slowly, her expression eases into one of warmth and you find yourself returning her smile. Drawing closer towards you, Queen Elora reaches out and squeezes your wrist gently before she pulls away. "Thank you, $name. It must seem foolish to care so much over what Consort Etar thinks," she murmurs. "It is not foolish," you reply. Your thoughts return to your own family and the complicated nature of your relationship with them. For most of your life, you did not know what had become of your mother, nor had you truly known the man your father was. You think about the family you found in Vinia, who accepted you despite everything that has happened. It is difficult to fathom a life where they would have turned you away and as you gaze at Queen Elora, you realise that she too has not had best of experiences with her own family. Queen Elora smiles but it does not reach her eyes. "My mother's family are not close to me. For the longest of times, all I wanted was to have their acceptance. But they only see me as the girl who took the throne away from her mother." You nudge her shoulder. "I see you as a good leader and so does Sir Oren and Prince Irus. Even if your blood family does not accept you, know that the rest of us do." "I... thank you, $name," she breathes. <<elseif $chp8_43A15A6 is 2>> "You can never truly be like your grandmother," you answer. "But I do not think that takes away from the ruler you are." You have not met two rulers who were the same in their approach to leading a kingdom. From what you have seen in Vinia, you are certain that Queen Elora has accomplished far more than she acknowledges. Meeting her dark eyes, you find her watching you with a look that resembles hopefulness. "I must admit that hearing you say that fills me with relief," Queen Elora replies. "It does?" you ask. She nods and turns to stare out at the courtyard. A stray lock of her dark hair loosens against the breeze and she reaches out to smooth it back into place. You realise then that throughout your time of knowing Queen Elora, she has always maintained her composure. Even in her anger, she has never truly allowed herself to express her emotions in a way that is not befitting of a queen. "My mother was supposed to be the ruler," she replies. "When I took on the role instead, I earned the disapproval of many. No one could trust a //girl// to rule a kingdom, much less one who did not have the full support of her mother." "What about your grandmother?" you question. "What did she think of you?" A small smile slips over her lips. "She was unable to see me take the thone but when I was a girl, she would tell me that I would make a magnificent queen." You smile. "I think she is right. You are a magnificent queen." <<elseif $chp8_43A15A6 is 3>> "What does it matter what Consort Etar thinks?" you ask, frowning. "We are here to aid Dena and that is all that matters." You cannot understand why Queen Elora has allowed herself to become distracted by the petty remarks of her uncle. There is a far greater goal that you have committed yourself to achieving and letting unwanted distractions steal your attention will only hamper everything that has been done. Queen Elora's eyes narrow slightly as she regards you and the harshness of your expression. A lesser person might have looked away but you meet her dark eyes without flinching as you silently dare her to contradict you. "Focussing on one thing alone seems to be your strength," Queen Elora mutters. Her words sound like a compliment, but her pointed stare and poisonous tone reveals it to be the insult it is intended to be. You scow in response. Drawing closer, you glare at the young queen, suddenly filled with anger as you regard her. "This is beyond you personal strife with your family," you hiss. "Or have you managed to forget the war waiting for the rest of us when all of this is over?" Queen Elora stares at you for a moment before she eventually looks away. "I have not forgotten the war, $name. Though it seems you have forgotten who you speak to. We are on the same side and for that, I will ignore your transgression." <<elseif $chp8_43A15A6 is 4>> "I think you are a wonderful leader," you breathe. "You are kind and you care for those around you." Your words comes out softer than you intended but they draw Queen Elora's sharp gazze towards you. Her eyes are swirling depths of darkness, nearly black as they search your face for something you cannot begin to understand. Gently, she reaches out and lets her fingers curl around the side of your face. "You think that I am kind?" she asks. You frown in confusion. "Of course. You are helping Prince Irus and you have accepted me, despite my differences." Her lips pull into a smile and she draws nearer. This close, you can smell the faint sweetness of the drink she had earlier against the warmth of her breath. You shudder as her fingers trace over your skin; eliciting goose pimples in their wake. Your heartbeat sounds louder than it ever has and as you stare at the young queen, you find it suddenly impossible to look away and then, you realise that even if you could, you would not want to. "You are more than your differences, $name," she murmurs. She tilts her head, her lips burshing against your cheek. "And you are sweet to say that I am kind." Her lips are warm against your skin. Despite the heat of her closeness, you shiver, suddenly wanting to spend eternity in this moment. Queen Elora draws away all too soon and you stare at her with wide eyes. She laughs at your expression and places another kiss atop your forehead. "Now is not the time for distractions, $name," she breathes. "But later, when we have achieved what we set out, there will be time for more." <<elseif $chp8_43A15A6 is 5>> "What does Consort Etar know about leading?" you ask. Drawing closer, you smile at Queen Elora. "You are a remarkable ruler, Elora." Your tone is teasing and the smile you offer is is full of teeth. Queen Elora raises an eyebrow at your words before she responding to your closeness. Reaching out, she threads her arm through the crook of your elbow and leans against your shoulder. You blink, startled by her sudden forwardness and pleased by the cloying scent of her perfumed hair tickling your nose. "Tell me more," she breathes. "I do not think I could tire of hearing you sing me praises." You grin. "Oh? Just praises?" Queen Elora laughs loudly. Her voice is musical and light - unlike the pinched tone you heard earlier. "Do not be a tease," she responds. "This is no place to be flirting so openly." You smile in response, drawing her close. She is warm and suddenly feels fragile in your grip. Turning, you meet her stare and find her watching you without constraint. Her dark eyes shift over your features, lingering on the curve of your smile, before she sighs and meets your gaze once more. "And where would you suggest I flirt with you?" you ask, your voice low. Her fingers curl around the nape of your neck and you feel the gentle press of her fingers against your skin. Despite yourself, you shudder as a sliver of warmth envelops you. Queen Elora stares at your mouth for a moment longer before she leans closer, her lips brushing the corner of your lips. The kiss is barely a kiss and when she speaks, you feel the heat of her breath against your mouth. "Somewhere quieter," she murmurs. "When we are alone and free to do as we please, $name." She pulls away and smiles sweetly at you. The sight causes your stomach to tighten and you almost draw her back, desperate to feel her warmth once more. As you take in the curve of her lips and the warmth in her eyes, you find your heartbeat thundering loudly in your ears. "Perhaps that can be arranged," you murmur. She grins widely. "I would enjoy that greatly." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_43A15A8]]

The clearing of a throat interrupts the silence between you and Queen Elora and you turn towards the sound. You find Mohra standing a few paces away from you. Noticing your stares, Mohra bows her head slightly before approaching Queen Elora. "I suspected I would find you here," she says. "Have you managed to speak to Baba?" Queen Elora's expression hardens. "Yes. Consort Etar was very //accomodating//." Mohra's smile falters. "He is only trying to help." "Yes," Queen Elora answers. "I suppose he believes he is helping." Your eyes dart between both women, suddenly curious about the true nature of their discussion. Whatever it is, neither Queen Elora nor Mohra seem willing to elighten you and you suspect pushing the subject now will only earn you disfavour with them. "Father is ready to speak with you now," Mohra murmurs. She glances at you. "Both of you. Dena is already waiting." You nod and turn to glance at Queen Elora. She meets your eyes before turning to follow Mohra back towards the room full of nobles. Without another choice, you hurry your steps to meet Sovereign Baen. [[Next.|chp8_43A16]]

Sovereign Baen, you soon discover, is a frail man. His hair which once must have been a vibrant black is now streaked with white. He sits atop a tall chair, overlooking the gathered nobles and guests though his eyes do not seem to focus on anything for too long. As you approach him, with your companions, you swallow a breath and remind yourself for your reason of being here. <<if $dena_truth is true>>Your eyes dart towards Queen Elora and you find yourself moving closer towards her. She raises an eyebrow at you in confusion but makes no move to stop you. Your thoughts swirl with Dena's reasons for asking for Queen Elora's aid and you open your mouth, the words spilling forth as you recount what you have learnt. Queen Elora's expression darkens the more you explain. When you are done, she casts Dena a withering glare and her hands curl at her sides. "You lied to us," she spits. Dena looks at you with wide eyes as though surprised you have exposed $Dhis deception. Raising $Dhis hands, Dena shakes $Dhis head and offers Queen Elora a placating smile. "Please, I will explain later," $Dhe breathes. "But now is not the time. We-"<<else>>You study the expressions of your companions, your thoughts scattered as you wonder what will happen if you fail today. Queen Elora's expression is stiff and when you peer closer, you notice the way her lips press tightly together as though she is afraid to speak aloud. On the other side of you, Dena smooths $Dhis hands over the expensive material of $Dhis coat. The rings along $Dhis fingers glisten against the light and blind you momentarily. You blink and look up. Dena is already staring at you and you notice the nervousness in the greens of $Dhis eyes. "It is time," $Dhe breathes. "Sovereign Baen will-"<</if>> "I see the Ruler of the Fleets has joined us and to my surprise, $Dhe has brought my niece along," Sovereign Baen interrupts. His voice, despite his ailing appearance, is commanding despite its softness. "Come closer, dear niece. Let me get a look at my sister's features in you." [[Next.|chp8_43A17]]

<<if $chp8_43A15B is 1>> "What does the role of Ruler of the Fleet actually entail?" you question. Dena pauses in $Dhis strides to regard you. Tapping $Dhis chin, Dena's lips twist into a frown as $Dhe seems to ponder your question carefully. As Dena thinks of a response, you take a moment to study $Dhis face. This close, you note the faint scars against $Dhis hands and the beginning of a wrinkled scar that dips beneath $Dhis collar. Before you can consider what happened to the $Dgender you knew as a adolescent, Dena speaks, interrupting your thoughts. "I suppose I am an owner of many ships," Dena explains. "Most merchants and traders come through me. I collect their levies and manage the logistics of the business." "How did you become so wealthy?" you ask. Dena smiles, but there is a bitterness in $Dhis expression. "I was an apprentice before taking over the business. My mentor was killed on one of trips at sea. Before she died, she made me promise to take over the business. After all, it was what I had been training for." "So you inherited the role," you murmur. Dena nods. "I did. It has proven to be difficult at times but I have done my best to uphold Mistress Rohesia's teachings. I cannot know if she is proud but I like to think that she is." Dena nudges you. "Now enough about that. There are still nobles to charm." <<elseif $chp8_43A15B is 2>> "You seem to have gathered many enemies amongst the nobles," you comment. The glares aimed at Dena are sharp and full of malice. You remember a time when those looks were directed at you and your thoughts drift towards Emos. You have still not broached the topic with Dena and you are uncertain if it is something that you would like to speak about. But as you follow Dena, you realise that $Dhe is not as well-liked as you were led to believe. "It is a consequence of gaining wealth," Dena replies. Your eyebrows furrow. "It does not bother you?" Dena glances at the nobles around you and shrugs. "I cannot do much to change the minds of those who would choose to hate me." You study Dena's expression. Despite the carelessness of $Dhis tone, you notice the sharpness of $Dhis smile and the bitter resentment in $Dhis green eyes. Dena is bothered by the stares around you but you are uncertain if it is truly because of $Dhis wealth or because of something that you are yet to understand. "Sovereign Baen is the one who chooses his next successor?" you ask. "His decision is what matters?" Dena nods. "Yes, it is true. But Sovereign Baen is known for listening to his //people//." "His people?" you inquire. A sharp smile graces Dena's lips. "Those who would clamour for his attention and pay him tenfold in gifts and jewels. He is a ficke leader and one that can easily be manipulated by the nobles here. It is why I need to find those in support of me willing to aid me today." <<elseif $chp8_43A15B is 3>> "With your wealth, certainly you must be able to sway the nobles to support you," you explain. Dena lets out a bark of laughter, $Dhis voice loud and boisterous despite the raucous crowd around you. Pausing to look at you, Dena reaches out and grips your shoulder as $Dhe regains $Dhis composure. When $Dhe meets your eyes, you find a look of amusement on $Dhis face and you frown, uncertain what is so funny. "You are speaking of bribing my way to the seat of power, eh?" Dena asks. You eyes narrow. "I did not mean anything so crude." Dena nudges your shoulder, still laughing. "Ah, of course not. Bribes are very underhanded. Perhaps we can call them investments, hm?" With your patience wearing thin, you turn to glare at Dena. "I do not understand what is so amusing. You are wealthy, yes?" Dena blinks at you, before nodding. "Yes." "Then why can you not," you reply, gesturing with your hands, "garner support by making deals with the nobles here?" "Ah my friend," Dena sighs. "Your words are sound, make no mistake. But do you truly think that I am wealthier than those gathered here? No. The wealth I possess is nothing compared to the nobles of the Southern Islands." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_43A15B2]]

You cannot say anything more, for Dena turns away and makes $Dhis way towards a young woman. She stands to one side, her expression nervous as she glances around the room. As you follow after Dena, you catch the woman's gaze widening in surprise when they settle on Dena before a wide smile tugs at her mouth. "Dena," she greets, reaching to hug $Dhim. Her frame is almost swallowed by Dena's height and you stare in curiosity when Dena places a soft kiss against her cheek. Perhaps it is a custom, you think or perhaps the woman is important to Dena. "Senna," Dena responds with delight. "I did not think I would see you today." The woman, Senna, smiles at Dena. "My mother could not make it so she sent me in her stead." Senna pauses, suddenly noticing you. "Oh! You did not tell me that you brought a friend with you." Dena glances at you, as if remembering you. "Forgive me. This is $name. We met a long time ago." "It is a pleasure to meet you, $name," Senna states. She offers you a small smile. "Dena has never introduced me to any of $Dhis friends before." <<set $chp8_43A15B2 to 0>> [["It is good to meet you," you answer with a smile. "You and Dena seem close."|chp8_43A15B3][$chp8_43A15B2 +=1]] [["We are hardly friends," you respond, frowning at Dena.|chp8_43A15B3][$chp8_43A15B2 +=2]] [["Oh," you mumble, trying to make out the relationship between Senna and Dena. "It is good to meet you too."|chp8_43A15B3][$chp8_43A15B2 +=3]]

<<if $chp8_43A15B2 is 1>> "It is good to meet you," you answer with a smile. "You and Dena seem close." Senna glances at Dena and you note the red flush spreading across her cheeks. Her hair, like strands of copper, hides her face and she ducks her head as though embarrassed by your words. Your eyes meet Dena's over the top of Senna's head and you catch $Dhim smiling softly at Senna. Perhaps, they are far closer than you know. "We are friends," Dena explains. "I met Senna when I first came to the Southern Islands. She was my first friend here." Senna laughs behind her hair before she nudges Dena. "Dena is exaggerating. There were many who befriended $Dhim." You tilt your head, remembering the manner in which Dena entered your life all those years ago. It would seem that Dena has no qualms in making friends with others and yet, you cannot help but wonder if any of them are genuine. <<elseif $chp8_43A15B2 is 2>> "We are hardly friends," you respond, frowning at Dena. Your curt tone draws Dena's green eyes onto you and $Dhe blinks, as though startled by your response. You look away from $Dhis pointed gaze and find Senna staring at you with wide eyes. She cannot be older than you, you think as you take in her youthful face and copper hair that curls around her face. "Oh!" she blurts. "I am certain that Dena meant no harm by that." You frown. "You do not even know our history." "History?" Senna asks, her eyes darting towards Dena. "I... no. I suppose I did not know that you and Dena shared a history." Dena waves $Dhis hands. "It is nothing so untoward, Senna. Think nothing of it." <<elseif $chp8_43A15B2 is 3>> "Oh," you mumble, trying to make out the relationship between Senna and Dena. "It is good to meet you too." You do not know what to call the feeling in your stomach that writhes like a devouring snake. It pulls at your chest and leaves you breathing sharply as your eyes alight on Dena's arms around Senna and the flushed expression of her face. //Are they involved?// You frown. It does not matter if they are, you tell yourself. "You have striking eyes, $name," Senna comments. Your thoughts are interrupted and you find yourself staring at Senna. Her hair is the shade of copper and curls around her face easily. She is beautiful in the way that delicately crafted dolls are and you suddenly feel out of place next to her. Dena glances at you and you swallow, unable to meet $Dhis green eyes. "She is right, $name," Dena agrees. "Your eyes are quite striking." <</if>> You are uncertain if you are grateful or not when Senna speaks, focussing her attention on the true reason you agreed to help Dena today. She peers up at Dena, her voice lowered to almost a whisper and you look around, noticing the pointed stares from the nobles around you. "Are you here to gain Sovereign Baen's approval?" she asks. Dena nods. "Yes. $name and Queen Elora agreed to help me." Senna glances at you with gratitude. "It is good of you to help Dena. There are not many who would." "Senna, now is not the time," Dena warns. But you have heard Senna and your thoughts rush through your mind. Confusion then curiosity tugs at the questions you have, but you manage to settle on one. <<set $chp8_43A15B3 to 0>> [["What does Senna mean, Dena?" you demand.|chp8_43A15B4][$chp8_43A15B3 +=1]] [["Have you done something to garner such disfavour from the other nobles?" you question.|chp8_43A15B4][$chp8_43A15B3 +=2]] [["Why are we truly here?" you inquire. "There is something more that you are not telling me."|chp8_43A15B4][$chp8_43A15B3 +=3]]

<<if $chp8_43A15B3 is 1>> "What does Senna mean, Dena?" you demand. Dena has easily danced and weaved through outright speaking of $Dhis business to you and your companions. Staring at $Dhim, you catch the widening of $Dhis eyes and your stomach twists. Senna shakes her head, her face growing red under your stare and she grabs Dena's wrist. "It is nothing, $name," Senna mumbles. "I misspoke." You ignore her words. "Tell me now, Dena. What is Senna talking about?" Dena rubs the back of $Dhis neck. There is a flustered expression on $Dhis face as though meeting your gaze would give away his deepest thoughts. Undeterred, you stare at $Dhim in furious silence. Perhaps unable to withstand your gaze or perhaps Senna's whimpering causes $Dhim to relent, Dena lets out a sigh. "The fleet I own," $Dhe explains. "I may have not been completely truthful to you about what I own." Your frown deepens. "What do you mean?" "There were debts that I had to pay and the easiest way to settle them was to sell a part of my fleet to the nobles I owed," Dena answers. "The fleet is not mine entirely, $name." <<elseif $chp8_43A15B3 is 2>> "Have you done something to garner such disfavour from the other nobles?" you question. From the ease in which Dena stands tall amongst the crowd of gathered nobles, you find it difficult to discern the reason for the animosity towards $Dhim. Yet as you peer closer at Dena's face, you find $Dhim looking away as though it hurts $Dhim to meet your eyes. "It is nothing serious," Senna explains. "Dena is right. Now is not the time to talk about this." "Dena," you call. "What is going on? Tell me." The sound of $Dhis name seems to draw Dena's attention towards you. There is a look of remorse in $Dhis eyes and it slowly spreads into the features of $Dhis face. A twisting in your stomach tells you that you have stumbled onto something wrong and yet, you cannot look away now. "The fleet I inherited came at a price, $name," Dena murmurs. "I owed debts, more than I could have paid off alone, so I came to an agreement with the other nobles." "What agreement?" you ask. "They bought some of my ships," $Dhe breathes. "Half my fleet is owned by the nobles around us." <<elseif $chp8_43A15B3 is 3>> "Why are we truly here?" you inquire. "There is something more that you are not telling me." Dena flinches under your stare and your lips draw lower, until you are certain that you are scowling. Your heartbeat thunders in your ears and you think about Prince Irus and then Queen Elora. All of your companions have joined this journey in the hopes of defeating Virion and now, you realise that Dena has been keeping things from you from the moment you met $Dhim at the harbour. "Do not get angry at Dena," Senna stammers. "It is not $Dhis fault." Your eyes narrow at Senna and she ducks behind Dena's tall frame. Ignoring her, you return your attention towards the person who has seen it fit to deceive you. Dena swallows and looks away from your gaze, suddenly fidgeting with the numerous rings along $Dhis fingers. "Dena," you call. "What are you hiding?" "You make it sound so bad, $name," Dena laughs, but there is desperation in $Dhis voice. "The fleet I promised you is not truly mine." Your eyes widen. "What?" Dena shakes $Dhis head. "I own some of the ships. But there were debts that had to be paid and I could not do it on my own. So, I sold some the ships to the nobles. They own half of the fleet under my command." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_43A15B5]]

You stumble back. Your ears ring loudly in your ears and your palms feel clammy at your sides. It is difficult to hear over the sound of your harsh breathing. Your eyes dart towards Queen Elora on the other side of the room, but before you can move, Dena steps before you. You stare at $Dhim, a range of emotions slipping over you until you find yourself settling on a dawning realisation. "You need us to get your fleet back," you whisper. "That is why we are here." Dena grips your shoulders. "$name, please. You have to understand. I did not intend for you to find out like this. I promise that I have every intention in helping His Highness and //you//. Tell me you understand. Please, $name." You stare at Dena's green eyes. Memories of $Dhis aid when you were still an adolescent come flooding back and you pull away from $Dhis grip. <<set $chp8_43A15B5 to 0>> [["I do not understand," you respond. "But it is too late to walk away now."|chp8_43A15B6][$chp8_43A15B5 +=1]] [["I understand, Dena," you breathe. "I do not appreciate your dishonesty but I understand why you did not tell us the truth."|chp8_43A15B6][$chp8_43A15B5 +=2]] [["Understand?" you ask, frowning. "You are asking me to accept your dishonesty. No, Dena. I cannot."|chp8_43A15B6][$chp8_43A15B5 +=3]] [["I know it can be frightening to admit your vulnerabilities," you murmur. "I will not hold your dishonesty against you, Dena."|chp8_43A15B6][$chp8_43A15B5 +=4]]

<<if $chp8_43A15B5 is 1>> "I do not understand," you respond. "But it is too late to walk away now." Your voice is hollow and you are certain that your expression must reveal your weariness for Dena stares at you with a stricken gaze. You avert your eyes from $Dhis, suddenly feeling uneasy with the prospect of helping Dena. From the moment you arrived in Minnear, Dena has been scheming to use the arrival of your companions to $Dhis advantage. "$name," Dena breathes. "I am sorry if I hurt you." You think about the war and Prince Irus. Glancing to the side, you spot Queen Elora speaking to a noble and you frown. Would she still agree to aid Dena if she knew $Dhis true motives? //No.// None of you can turn away allies, even those who would rather use you for their own gain. "It does not matter," you huff. "We need your fleet as much as you do. Apologise by making certain that you support Prince Irus against the Blood Guard." Dena's green eyes flicker with an unreable expression but it is gone in a heartbeat. "Of course. You have my word." <<elseif $chp8_43A15B5 is 2>> "I understand, Dena," you breathe. "I do not appreciate your dishonesty but I understand why you did not tell us the truth." At your words, you watch as Dena's expression eases into one of relief. Smiling at you, $Dhe reaches out as though to draw you into a hug but after a moment, $Dhis hand drops to $Dhis side. You swallow a hard lump and turn your gaze towards where Queen Elora stands talking to a noble on the other side of the room. What will she say if she knew about Dena's true motives? You glance at Dena once more and press your lips together. Understanding the reasons behind $Dhis actions is easier than accepting them and yet, you know that you cannot turn away allies. Prince Irus can only win the war against his uncle by uniting those who would rather see an end to the bloodshed and you know that Dena's aid will prove to sway the war in your favour. "You do not know how much of a relief it is to hear you say that," Dena responds. Meeting your gaze, Dena offers you a small smile. "I never intended to deceive you like this. You will have my support, no matter what the outcome is today." There is a sincerity in $Dhis voice that eases some of the gnawing doubt that filled your chest only moments earlier. You want to believe Dena and perhaps, seeing $Dhim now so vulnerable is enough to make you understand why $Dhe did not tell you the truth of the fleet $Dhe commanded. After all, is politics not a game of give and take? <<elseif $chp8_43A15B5 is 3>> "Understand?" you ask, frowning. "You are asking me to accept your dishonesty. No, Dena. I cannot." You are uncertain if it is anger or frustration that twists your stomach. Dena stares at you with a wounded expression on $Dhis face but you cannot bring yourself to feel anything else. Perhaps the fault is yours for trusting Dena so easily. After all, there is always something that scheming nobles seem to want and Dena, after all these years, is no different than those in the Southern Islands. "$name," Dena pleads. "I never meant to hurt you. You must see that, right?" A bitter laugh escapes you and your eyes narrow as you stare at Dena. //Hurt?// You have felt far worse things and overcome them before. The grief of losing your mother as a child, only to find her alive years later; watching Ahlf die, only for you and Prince Irus to escape and now learning that no matter your intentions, the allies you help gather only seek to benefit themselves by aiding you. "This has nothing to do with you hurting me, Dena, and we both know it," you spit. "This is about you and your deception. You used us for your own purpose." Dena stares at you, unspeaking, as $Dhis green eyes harden. "What does it matter if my purpose aligns with your need for a fleet? This is how trade deals work. You cannot expect me to put aside my affairs to aid you without gaining anything in return." <<elseif $chp8_43A15B5 is 4>> "I know it can be frightening to admit your vulnerabilities," you murmur. "I will not hold your dishonesty against you, Dena." You speak to Dena as though you are speaking to a wounded animal. Your eyes meet $Dhis and for a moment, you think you see gratitude in $Dhis green gaze but the emotion disappears almost as quickly as it appeared. A breath leaves you and you look away. Dena did not tell you everything and yet, knowing the truth now will not change the outcome of what you came to do. "Thank you, $name," Dena breathes. "I... I do not deserve your kindness and yet you have given it to me freely." The corner of your lips twitch into a small smile. "It is not kindness for understanding your reasons, Dena." Dena shakes $Dhis head. "It is to me. You would be surprised to find many here are far more callous towards those who have committed lesser mistakes." Your eyes dart towards where Queen Elora stands. She still is unaware of Dena's true motives and you fear what her response will be when she learns of the truth. Swallowing a hard lump, you return your attention towards Dena and offer $Dhim a long look. "As long as you promise to help Prince Irus, I believe the others will understand and forgive you," you murmur. Dena nods. "I assure you that I will help your cause." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_43A15B7]]

Your attention is stolen by Senna and you frown, remembering that the young woman was a witness to your conversation with Dena. Her face is flushed and you notice the way her fingers wring the soft material of her gown. There is a nervousness in her expression that reminds of the desperation you saw on Dena's face when you uncovered the truth of why $Dhe brought you and Queen Elora here. "It seems like Sovereign Baen is accepting an audience with the others," she explains. Gazing at Dena pointedly, Senna lowers her voice. "Perhaps you should approach him now, while he is open to listening?" Dena nods then glances at you. "It would see that our time has come. Are you ready?" You can only offer a wordless agreement as Dena begins to lead you through the throng of nobles. In the crowd, your eyes meet the dark gaze of Queen Elora and she makes her way towards you. [[Next.|chp8_43A15B8]]

Your eyes alight on Dena's back and suddenly, you become aware that there will be only a moment to explain to Queen Elora what you have learnt. You are uncertain if Dena intends to reveal $Dhis true motives to her and the rest of your comapnions but you know that Queen Elora will not appreciate being deceived. <<set $dena_truth to false>><<set $chp8_43A15B8 to 0>> [[You will tell her about what you have learnt.|chp8_43A16][$eloraRel +=5, $dena_truth to true, $chp8_43A15B8 +=1]] [[You will not tell Queen Elora about what you have learnt.|chp8_43A16][$chp8_43A15B8 +=2]] [[You cannot bring up what you have learnt now to Queen Elora and will wait for a better time.|chp8_43A16][$chp8_43A15B8 +=3]]

Queen Elora tenses but after a moment, she approaches her uncle with the grace of a ruler. You watch their exchange in silence, not truly a part of Sovereign Baen's welcome. He grips Queen Elora's shoulders tightly, murmuring something too low for you to hear but you watch as Queen Elora's eyes harden in response. She draws away, moving to stand beside you. "Uncle, I would like you to meet $name." Queen Elora offers you a small smile. "$name was an intergral part of aiding His Highness, Prince Irus." Sovereign Baen glances at you. There is a bored look in his gaze, yet you cannot help the uneasiness that settles in your stomach when his eyes peer deeply into yours. All at once, the boredom in his expression is gone and he sits taller as though you have drawn his interest. "You are touched by the divine, are you?" Sovereign Baen asks. "I see it in your eyes." <<set $chp8_43A17 to 0>> [["How did you know?" you question, surprise lining your voice.|chp8_43A18][$chp8_43A17 +=1]] [["Some people say I have my father's eyes," you snort, laughing at your joke.|chp8_43A18][$chp8_43A17 +=2]] <<if $chp7_sword is true>>[["I am blessed," you respond, reminded about everything you have learnt.|chp8_43A18][$chp8_43A17 +=3]]<<else>>[["You are mistaken," you reply. "There is no divinity in my blood."|chp8_43A18][$chp8_43A17 +=4]]<</if>>

<<if $chp8_43A17 is 1>> "How did you know?" you question, surprise lining your voice. You are surprised by Sovereign Baen's perception. From what you know about the divine blessings, not many have been granted the favour of the deities and not many aside from those in Ishari have managed to weave the power that seems to run in your mother and Anu's veins. <<if $chp7_sword is true>>For a moment, you wonder if your eyes are as gold as Anu's when she is wielding Atses' Heart but you frown. Your eyes have never shone like Anu's before.<<else>>Your eyebrows crease in confusion. You were rejected by the deities and you are uncertain what Sovereign Baen must have sensed in you to have known the history of your failed divinity.<</if>> Sovereign Baen huffs. "I know the signs to look for. We have our own blessed living in the isles here. Some come from further across the sea than Ishari." His words startle you. There are others who can wield the blessings of the deities? You open your mouth to respond but you close it when you realise that you are uncertain what to ask. Perhaps it is not Sovereign Baen who can answer you, but those like Anu and $mama. <<elseif $chp8_43A17 is 2>> "Some people say I have my father's eyes," you snort, laughing at your joke. You had meant it to be a jest and yet, your voice sounds hollow as you laugh. Queen Elora casts you a sharp look and you cannot avoid the pitying look in Dena's eyes. Your voice ceases and you swallow, suddenly aware that you have drawn the unwanted attention of your companions. Perhaps it is too crass to mention your father? "I am not so foolish to comment on your parental lineage," Sovereign Baen retorts. "It is your eyes. They are nothing like the rest of ours." <<if $chp7_sword is true>>You are blessed by the deities and yet, you are uncertain how Sovereign Baen managed to sense your divinity. Blinking, you look away from his peering gaze and swallow. Is it so evident to others that you are different?<<else>>You were rejected by the very divinity your blood seems to possess. Frowning, you stare at your hands and recall a time when your eyes were no more than simple reminders of Ahlf's. Yet, even Sovereign Baen is able to see more in them than you ever could.<</if>> "I do not understand," you respond. "How can you know this?" Sovereign Baen regards you carefully. "Ishari is not the only place home to those able to wield the deities' gifts." <<elseif $chp8_43A17 is 3>> "I am blessed," you respond, reminded about everything you have learnt. The burning heat of Atses' Heart followed by the full acceptance in your chest that you were like Anu and like $mama, threatens to overwhelm your thoughts. You turn away from Sovereign Baen's stare and find yourself under the concerned gaze of Queen Elora. A quickl glance at Dena reveals $Dhis surprise at the sudden mention of your divinity. "I could tell," Sovereign Baen responds. "It is in the way you look at me. There is something unnerving about your stare." You stiffen, suddenly uncertain about Sovereign Baen's words. Do you unnerve others? Your memories seem to bleed into your mind as you remember the sharp looks and vicious taunts you faced in Salt Bay. Were you always different to them because of your blood or was it because of the innate blessings you possessed? "That is... I am not certain I understand," you mumble. Sovereign Baen waves his hand as if he has said nothing unusual. "The others I have met all have the same look in their eyes. Much like you, their divinity makes it difficult to be around them." <<elseif $chp8_43A17 is 4>> "You are mistaken," you reply. "There is no divinity in my blood." Is it anger that stains your voice or is it bitterness? You cannot tell what the emotion that festers in your chest is but it comes out harshly through your words. You notice Sovereign Baen's frowning mouth and then flinch when you catch the surprised look on Dena's face. Queen Elora offers you a concerned look but you turn away, suddenly wanting to forget your failed divinity and your mother's role in everything that has happened. "No?" Sovereign Baen asks. He stares closely at you and you struggle not to flinch. "But your eyes suggest differently." "You are wrong," you reply. "There is nothing divine about my eyes or my blood." Sovereign Baen's eyebrows furrow. "Are you certain? Perhaps you did not awaken your divinity as yet?" You recall the sharp screech of Atses' Heart and the pounding in your head. No. He is wrong. There is nothing divine about your blood and there is nothing different about your eyes. Shaking your head, you glare at Sovereign Baen and are surprised when he stiffens under your gaze. "There is no divinity in my blood," you repeat. <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_43A19]]

It is Dena who interrupts the conversation. Drawing to $Dhis full height, Dena bows deeply towards Sovereign Baen. You are all too aware of the hush that has fallen around the gathered nobles around you. They stare pointedly at Dena and you notice $Dhis smile falter slightly as $Dhe bows $Dhis head. "Forgive me for intruding on this riveting discussion," Dena murmurs. "But I believe there is a far more pressing concern to discuss." Sovereign Baen glances at Dena. His mouth turns downwards and you notice the hardening shift in his gaze. "You have always been an ambitious one, Dena. It was a failure on my part for not noticing until now." Dena stiffens under Sovereign Baen's stare but $Dhe does not look away. "My ambitions are no different to those who would ply you with gifts in the hopes of your favour. I only ask for your time to discuss what everyone else speaks about in hushed tones, Your Grace." "And you thought bringing my niece and her divine friend would aid you in this?" Sovereign Baen asks. "Their presence is pertinent to the greater threat we face," Dena replies. "Will you listen to my reasons and then make your judgment?" Sovereign Baen frowns. "Very well. You have earned a few moments of my time. Do not waste it." [[Next.|chp8_43A20]]

Dena's impassioned speech sounds rehearsed. As you listen to $Dhis commanding tone and emotive words, you steal a glance at Sovereign Baen. From the ruler's expression, it becomes evident that he has heard many speeches like Dena's before and you realise that Dena will not be able to sway Sovereign Baen's decision without any aid. As Dena's words ebb into emptiness, you realise that now is the time to speak in $Dhis favour if you are to secure Dena's position. <<set $chp8_43A20 to 0>> [["Dena has shown great courage in asking you for you support," you emphasise. "I believe that you should consider Dena as your successor."|chp8_43A21][$chp8_43A20 +=1]] [["The other nobles only care for what is good for them," you state. "I believe that Dena is different and will work for the good of the realms."|chp8_43A21][$chp8_43A20 +=2]] [[You are uncertain what to say and look to Queen Elora for help.|chp8_43A21][$chp8_43A20 +=3]] <<if $politics gte 60>>[["You must know about the threat of the Blood Guard," you state. "The Southern Islands will not be safe so long as your successor remains unnamed. Choose Dena and help the realms overcome the terror that has befallen us all."|chp8_43A21][$chp8_43A20 +=4]]<<else>>//Your politics skill is too low.//<</if>>

<<if $chp8_43A20 is 1>> "Dena has shown great courage in asking you for you support," you emphasise. "I believe that you should consider Dena as your successor." Dena glances at you in gratitude. But your attention is drawn towards Sovereign Baen when you hear him scoff. Glancing at him, you find Sovereign Baen wearing a look of contempt as if unimpressed by your words. He leans his chin on his hand and you notice how thin his wrist appears to be. "Should I be impressed by every person who asks me for my blessing in naming them as my successor?" Sovereign Baen asks. "You have no say in the way that I rule my realm. Do you truly think that I will listen to your plea?" You open your mouth to respond, but it is Queen Elora who speaks. She moves to stand ahead of you, her eyebrows furrowed and her mouth pulled into a scowl. "You might not listen to $name but what about your niece?" she asks. "The last time I spoke to my mother, she advised me of her role in securing your throne, Uncle." Sovereign Baen's expression darkens. All at once, he is no longer smug or glaring. Noticing his change in expression, Queen Elora steps closer. The nobles around you grow silent and all you can hear is the sound of your thundering heartbeat. "Name Dena as your successor or shall I ask my mother to return?" Queen Elora questions. <<elseif $chp8_43A20 is 2>> "The other nobles only care for what is good for them," you state. "I believe that Dena is different and will work for the good of the realms." While you cannot say for certain that Dena's intentions are noble, you do know that $Dhis aid will help Prince Irus reclaim his throne. Glancing at Dena, you catch a small smile of gratitude tugging at the corner of $Dhis lips but your attention is stolen by Sovereign Baen's breathless laughter. "You cannot truly think that Dena is doing this for the good of the realms," Sovereign Baen huffs. "Nothing Dena does is ever for the benefit of others." Dena scowls. "That is untrue, Your Grace. Baseless rumours, all of them." Sovereign Baen grins. "Even your debts?" <<if $chp8_43A15B5 lt 1>>Your eyebrows furrow in confusion and you look at Dena. But $Dhe does not meet your eyes and suddenly, you feel a writhing twist in your stomach that $Dhe has not told you everything.<<else>>You know well enough of Dena's debts and you swallow a hard lump, suddenly aware that Sovereign Baen is far more cunning that his illness might make him appear.<</if>> "That is enough," Queen Elora interrupts. "What does it matter if Dena owes debts? From what my mother has told me, you owe her a great debt as well, Uncle. Tell me, do you wish to repay it now by claiming Dena as your successor or shall I ask my mother to visit you in person?" Sovereign Baen's eyes narrow at Queen Elora. There is an unspoken threat in Queen Elora's expression and you cannot help but wonder what she is talking about. <<elseif $chp8_43A20 is 3>> You are uncertain what to say and look to Queen Elora for help. Her gaze is focussed on Sovereign Baen but she must sense your stare for she turns to look at you. Your expression must give away your pleading desperation. All at once, Queen Elora's expression becomes guarded - a familiar enough look like the one she wore around her own courtiers. "Uncle," she speaks. "We are all aware of your ill-health." Sovereign Baen's eyes flicker with anger. "I would advise you not to speak so brashly. You might be accustomed to acting as you please in Vinia, but I assure you, this is not the palace you grew up in." Queen Elora's lips peel into a sharp smile. "My mother spoke to me about you, Uncle. She told me all about the favours you begged for to take the seat of power." Sovereign Baen stiffens. "Those are nothing but lies and rumours, I assure you." "You would call my mother and your //sister// a liar, Uncle?" Queen Elora asks. Her smile falls and she gestures towards Dena. "Appoint Dena as your successor or I shall have to ask my mother for her assistance." <<elseif $chp8_43A20 is 4>> "You must know about the threat of the Blood Guard," you state. "The Southern Islands will not be safe so long as your successor remains unnamed. Choose Dena and help the realms overcome the terror that has befallen us all." You are not as well-educated as those in attendance of Sovereign Baen's court, but you are not ignorant to the consequences of Virion's hold on the throne of Cyre. If he is not stopped, you are certain that those who would stand in his way will only find themselves dead at the hands of the Blood Guard. Staring up at Sovereign Baen, you frown when you find your impassioned plea has not moved the ailing ruler. He gazes at you and then glances at Dena with a scowl. Something in your expression must reveal your disappointment because Sovereign Baen turns to gaze at you once more. "The Southern Islands have never bothered with the wars of other nations," he remarks. "I do not see how an outside war should influence my decision on choosing a successor." "What about a war that affects Vinia?" Queen Elora asks. Her expression is dark and her voice is hard. "Do you care so little for my mother after all that she has sacrificed for you, Uncle?" Sovereign Baen's eyes flick towards Queen Elora and for a moment, you notice a sliver of panic in his gaze. You frown and cast Queen Elora a confused look but she does not explain her words to you or to Dena. "I do not know what you think your mother did," Sovereign Baen mutters. "But I am the ruler now." Queen Elora smiles, but it is unkind. "And what happens if you perish before naming a successor? The laws as I know are clear that my mother-" "Enough," Sovereign Baen snaps. "What is it that you want, you petulant girl?" "Name Dena as your successor," Queen Elora responds. <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_43A22]]

No one dares to speak. Your eyes shift towards Dena who watches Sovereign Baen with an unreadable look. To your left, Queen Elora glares at her uncle with the ferocity of a warrior. Before you, Sovereign Baen seems to crumple in his chair. His shoulders sag and the material of his robes suddenly appear to swallow his broken form. "You are every bit your mother's daughter," Sovereign Baen mutters. "Perhaps some of your father's too." He mutters under his breath, a sound between a cry and a growl. "Very well. Have it your way, //niece//. I will relinquish my throne to Dena. Better $Dhim than your family." Sovereign Baen shakes out the folds of his robes. There is something off about his movements - even as he rises from his chair, his eyes remain fixed on the ground where his feet touch. You see a man defeated by his own body, and yet the man still remains upright despite his illness. "I hope you are truly happy in this role, Dena," Sovereign Baen spits. "Consider this a warning. Not everyone will be as accomodating as I have towards you." [[Next.|chp8_43A23]]

You are soon gathered once more on Dena's boat. No one speaks and you let your thoughts wander for a moment. Dena has been named as Sovereign Baen's successor, yet, you are unable to feel nearly as fulfilled as you had hoped you would. <<if $chp8_43A15B5 gte 1>>Perhaps the bitterness of knowing that Dena used you and Queen Elora to help clear $Dhis debts has made it difficult to appreciate what you have achieved.<<else>>Glancing at Dena, you find it difficult to fathom the reason for your unease but something does not feel quite right when you look at $Dhim.<</if>> <<if $chp8_43A15B8 is 1>>Earlier, you told Queen Elora of Dena's debts and she seemed upset by $Dhis deception. Now, as you gaze at her, you find that there is a dark expression in her eyes that only makes the severity of her scowl more prominent.<<elseif $chp8_43A15B8 is 2>>You chose not to reveal what you knew about Dena's debts and glancing at Queen Elora, you cannot be certain if she is aware of $Dhis deception.<<elseif $chp8_43A15B8 is 3>>Now does not seem to be an appropriate time to broach Dena's debts with Queen Elora, not when the mood on the boat is heavy with unspoken tension.<<else>>Queen Elora meets your eyes and you notice the darkness of her eyes. There is a thoughtful look on her face, one that speaks volumes in the deafening silence. She seems to know something that you do not.<</if>> "Tell me about your debts," Queen Elora states. <<if $chp8_43A15B5 gte 1>>You grow stiff as Queen Elora's dark eyes alight on Dena. There is a viciousness on her face unlike anything you have ever seen before. She glares at Dena, her mouth pressed into a scowl as she regards $Dhim.<<else>>Your eyes widen at Queen Elora's tone. Glancing towards her, you find that she glowers at Dena and stands to her full height. You are uncertain what debts she speaks about and yet, Dena does not deny her.<</if>> [[Next.|chp8_43A24]]

For a while, Dena does not respond and you glance in $Dhis direction. Meeting your eyes briefly, you find a myriad of emotions in the green depths of $Dhis eyes; anger, hurt and beneath it, remorse. Dena looks away before you can make sense of what $Dhe must be feeling and turns to look at Queen Elora. Dena leans against the railing of the boat and sighs. "What do you want to know, Your Majesty?" "How long were you going to keep your debts a secret?" Queen Elora asks. "Not long," Dena answers. "Until I secured my position. Maybe after the war?" You frown at $Dhis dismissive response. Peering closer at Dena, you realise that $Dhis expression is unreadable and the look in $Dhis eyes is heavily guarded. <<if $chp8_43A15B5 gte 1>>Despite already being aware of $Dhis debts, you have yet to uncover the full truth of $Dhis fleet and the debts he owes.<<else>>Like Queen Elora, you are curious about Dena's debts and what role it plays in your alliance.<</if>> <<set $chp8_43A24 to 0>> [["Can we trust you?" you ask.|chp8_43A25][$chp8_43A24 +=1]] [["How can you help us if you still owe debts?" you question.|chp8_43A25][$chp8_43A24 +=2]] [["Why did you keep the truth of your debts from us?" you inquire.|chp8_43A25][$chp8_43A24 +=3]]

<<if $chp8_43A24 is 1>> "Can we trust you?" you ask. Your question is simple and yet, it draws Dena's gaze towards you. For a moment, you see surprise and then, a flicker of sadness in $Dhis green eyes but it is gone almost as quickly as it appeared. Dena averts $Dhis eyes and when $Dhe speaks, $Dhis voice is low and nearly swallowed by the wind. "Of course you can trust me, $name," $Dhe breathes. "I would never do anything to harm you or your friends." Queen Elora scoffs. "It is too late to be pledging your fealty now, Dena. Going forward, I expect your full support in aiding Prince Irus." Dena's jaw tightens but whatever retort $Dhe must have in $Dhis mind does not spill past $Dhis lips. "Yes. My support is yours to have, Your Majesty." <<elseif $chp8_43A24 is 2>> "How can you help us if you still owe debts?" you question. You are uncertain how much Dena's debts are worth and how $Dhe will be able to support Prince Irus with a fleet of ships if $Dhe does not have the means to expend such wealth. Dena looks at you and runs a hand through $Dhis dark hair. In the sunlight, it seems to be nearly as black as the endless night sky. "Being named the successor of Sovereign Baen means that I can easily pay off my debts," $Dhe explains. "Though, I suspect many of the nobles I owe will forgive them entirely." Queen Elora sneers. "You would use your authority to erase your debts?" Dena's lips pull back to reveal a harsh smile. "What good am I to your cause if I am forever in debt to the people who will serve me?" <<elseif $chp8_43A24 is 3>> "Why did you keep the truth of your debts from us?" you inquire. The thought tugs at your mind and you cannot help but stare up at Dena. <<if $chp8_43A15B5 lte 1>>You are uncertain what debts Dena owes and Queen Elora seems in no haste to clarify what she has learnt. All you can do is stare up at Dena in hopes of an answer.<<else>>While you are aware of Dena's fleet being owned by others, you do not understand why $Dhe did not tell you the truth sooner.<</if>> "As a trader, I was taught never to reveal all my secrets," Dena explains. "I... I did not expect to see with His Highness, $name. You must understand that I cannot simply trust your friends because they may seem more favourable than //King Virion//." Queen Elora scowls. "So you thought that by hiding your debts you were protecting yourself? What about us? Were you ever going to tell us that the fleet you promised was less than half of what you //owned//?" Dena frowns. "You wanted my support and now you have it, Your Majesty. My deception might have stung, but I beg of you not to allow your judgment become clouded with anger. You will have my support, now that you have aided me in my goals." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_43A26]]

No one speaks after that and you settle into a restless quiet as the boat drifts further into the narrow inlets. Your eyes sweep over the different residents, but you cannot bring yourself to pay them any heed for your thoughts tumble around in your mind. You steal a glance at Dena and find that $Dhe is staring at the sea and you use the moment to study $Dhis features. Against the setting sun, you find a crease against $Dhis forehead and a deep sadness etched into $Dhis green eyes. Whatever the truth is behind Dena's deception, you can only hope that it bears no consequence on Prince Irus' task of reclaiming his throne. [[Next.|chp8_44]]

<<set $location to "Stormkeeper Plaza, Southern Islands">><div class="timeline">Stormkeeper Plaza, Southern Islands</div> It is dusk when you find yourself seated around the same table as you did when you first arrived. The evening air is cooler and you are grateful as the humidity seems to ebb with the disappearing sun. Attendants hurry around the room, carrying pitchers and goblets but no one dares touch it. You glance around the table and see equal looks of apprehension on your companions' faces. <<if $chp8_stay is false>>Though you have been successful in gaining Sovereign Baen's support in Dena's schemes, you are not ignorant to the anger that seems permanently etched in Queen Elora's face. Learning about Dena's deceptions has not made her fond of the $Dgender and you are uncertain how the rest of your companions will respond.<<else>>From the small whispers shared between Prince Irus and Queen Elora, you have surmised that the young queen and Dena have been successful in their bid to secure Sovereign Baen's support. Yet, the longer you sit at the table, the more you become aware of the tense silence that presses heavily against room. A glance at Queen Elora tells you that she is furious. Your eyes drift towards Dena, but $Dhe is silent and all signs of friendliness have been replaced with a sombre hush.<</if>> When the attendants finally leave the room, Dena stands to $Dhis full height and casts $Dhis green eyes around the table. You frown when $Dhis eyes fall onto you, lingering for a moment longer than necessary but it is enough to let you see the sliver of remorse in them. "We have returned with fortuitous tidings," Dena announces. The smile on $Dhis lips widens but there is a tightness around $Dhis mouth. "Sovereign Baen has agreed to make me his successor." Dena's words are something to be celebrated but you cannot bring yourself to smile, not when your companions stare at $Dhim with questioning looks. You glance at Queen Elora and find that she does not smile nor does she look at Dena. Her dark eyes catch yours for a moment before she looks away. With no one speaking, you turn towards Dena. <<set $chp8_44 to 0>> [["You will offer your full support now that we have helped you?" you ask.|chp8_45][$chp8_44 +=1]] [["And what of the logistics of your fleet?" you question. "How many ships are you willing to lend us?"|chp8_45][$chp8_44 +=2]] [["Good," you say. "Now we can talk about the details of the alliance."|chp8_45][$chp8_44 +=3]] <<if $chp8_stay is false>>[["Will you explain your debts or shall I?" you demand.|chp8_45][$chp8_44 +=4]]<</if>>

It is not long before you find the familiar faces of your companions. They are led into rooms along a hallway that overlooks the sea. You are led further down, past Prince Irus and Sir Oren towards an arched door. The attendant opens it and you peer inside, revealing an expansive bed chamber with arched windows. Beyond the curtains, you hear the sound of waves in the distance. "Make yourself comfortable," the attendant explains. "There will be refreshments brought up soon." You nod in gratitude and let out a breath as soon as he leaves. Exhaustion tugs at your limbs and you step deeper into the room. The bed is soft under your weight and your eyes take in your surroundings. On the far side of the room, there is a large dresser and beside it, rests a small chest. A table and a two chairs sit beside the arched window and for a moment, you are reminded of the days you would dine beside the sight of the sea. Your thoughts do not go undisturbed for too long for you hear a tap on your door. Looking up, you find... [[...Prince Irus.|chp8_43Ba]] [[...Sir Oren.|chp8_43Bb]] [[...Anu.|chp8_43Bc]]

He stands on the outside of your room, one foot halfway inside while the rest of him seems to hesitate to move past the threshold of the doorway. You meet his eyes and find the blue depths of his gaze heavy with contemplation. <<if $irus_lock is true>>His lips pull into a small smile, a quirk of his mouth that sends a wave of heat through you.<<else>>He offers you a small smile, the gesture an offer of warmth despite the tension in his shoulders.<</if>> "$name," he greets. Pausing, he glances at your room. "I was hoping that we could talk a bit." You study his expression and for a moment, you wonder if he means to talk about Dena. Glancing away, you gaze at the windows. Queen Elora did not explain when she would return but you are certain that if you spend the afternoon with Prince Irus, you will not have enough time to talk to your other companions. [["Yes," you agree. "There is much to discuss."|chp8_43Ba1]] [["I am sorry," you murmur. "Perhaps later?"|chp8_43Ba_end]]

Sir Oren stands tall and straight with his hands placed behind his back. He is no longer donned in the coat he wore earlier though the lack of it does not take away from his dutiful stance. Your eyes meet his hazel ones and for a moment, you find a startled vulnerability in his gaze that seeps into his posture. You cannot be certain but it almost seems as if Sir Oren is worried. "$name," he greets. "May I come in?" You nod and Sir Oren steps into your room. He holds himself stiffly and casts a glance towards the large windows across from him. His dark eyebrows are furrowed and his lips press together as though he is unwilling to speak first despite having sought you out. "Is there something you need?" you ask, glancing at him. "I had thought we could talk," he explains. You hesitate as you take in Sir Oren's earnest expression. The afternoon is late and you are certain that if you spend your time with Sir Oren, you will not be able to spend it with any of your other companions. [["Yes, I would like that," you answer.|chp8_43Bb1]] [["Not now, Sir Oren," you reply. "I had hoped to spend my afternoon differently."|chp8_43Bb_end]]

Anu stands stiffly in the middle of the doorway. Her robes sit loosely around her shoulders, revealing the strength of her arms beneath. Your mind returns to the memory of Anu wielding Atses' Heart and you idly wonder if her skills with weapons is rendered useless without her divinity. "$name," she states. Before you can respond, she steps into your room. "Are you busy?" Your eyebrows furrow. There is no pressing matter that requires your attention so shake your head in response. Anu folds and unfolds her arms, her lips pulling into a frown before she lets them drop to her sides. She does not speak and you stare at her in confusion. "Did you want to spend time with me?" you ask. Nervousness is not the word you would describe Anu's behaviour but from the way she holds herself and to the way she sneers at your question, you almost think that she is embarrassed to admit to wanting to spend time with you. "I am not so desperate for companionship as the others," she grumbles. "Though at least I know you will be safe if I stay." [["You can stay if you want," you respond. "I would appreciate having someone to talk to."|chp8_43Bc1]] [["I do not need your protection," you explain. "You do not need to spend your afternoon with me."|chp8_43Bc_end]]

"Yes," you agree. "There is much to discuss." Prince Irus' casts you a relieved glance as though he had expected you to refuse. Stepping further into your room, he glances at the windows that overlook the sea. You follow his gaze and catch sight of a row of small boats that carry fishermen. Once more, you are reminded of your childhood and the peaceful days at sea before you look away. "I... I admit that I came to see you after what happened earlier," Prince Irus explains. "With that man." Your eyebrows furrow. "You mean Emos?" Prince Irus nods and his lips pull into a deep scowl. "Yes, him. He had no right to attack you. I am only grateful that <<if $chp8_33 is 1>>I was there to stop him."<<elseif $chp8_33 is 2>>Ellie was there to stop him."<<elseif $chp8_33 is 3>>Sir Oren was there to stop him."<<elseif $chp8_33 is 4>>Anu was there to stop him."<<else>>Dena was there to stop him."<</if>> Your eyes search Prince Irus' face and despite the anger you see curling around the edges of his lips, you find a deep concern and beneath it, panic, swirling in his blue eyes. <<set $chp8_43Ba1 to 0>> [["I am grateful for you concern, Irus," you murmur. "It is still odd to have so many that care."|chp8_43Ba2][$chp8_43Ba1 +=1, $irusRel +=2]] [["I appreciate your sentiments, but I am capable of taking care of myself," you explain.|chp8_43Ba2][$chp8_43Ba1 +=2, $irusRel +=2]] [["You need not concern yourself over Emos," you mutter. "I assure you that I am not some weakling in need of saving."|chp8_43Ba2][$chp8_43Ba1 +=3]] <<if $irus_lock is true>> [[♡"Thank you for caring about me," you breathe, feeling you cheeks grow warm.|chp8_43Ba2][$chp8_43Ba1 +=4, $irusRel +=2, $irusRom +=5]] [[♡"I must admit that your concern warms my heart," you respond with a grin. "Perhaps I shall have to find a way to repay you for your kindness."|chp8_43Ba2][$chp8_43Ba1 +=5, $irusRel +=2, $irusRom +=5]] [[♡"Your concern for me is touching," you murmur. "But please do not think that I am in need of rescuing from those who would hurt me simply because of my heritage."|chp8_43Ba2][$chp8_43Ba1 +=6, $irusRel +=2, $irusRom +=5]]<</if>>

"I am sorry," you murmur. "Perhaps later?" Prince Irus' expression twists into something akin to regret and he looks away. You peer at him and note the way his smile falters. It is true that you have spent much of your journey together and perhaps choosing to spend your time apart has hurt Prince Irus in some way. When he does not reply, you pen your mouth to speak. "I am certain we will have time to talk once Queen Elora returns," you explain. Prince Irus nods at you. <<if $irus_lock is true>>"Yes, of course, $name," he breathes. "We will speak later. I am certain the others deserve your time though I wish I could have you to myself at times."<<else>>"Of course, $name," he answers. "We will speak later."<</if>> You watch him as he turns away and departs from your room. Glancing at the door, you realise that you can still talk to one of your other companions. <<set $chp8_43Ba_end to 0>> [[You will spend time with Sir Oren.|chp8_43Ba_end1][$chp8_43Ba_end +=1]] [[You will spend time with Anu.|chp8_43Ba_end1][$chp8_43Ba_end +=2]]

You move to leave your room but as you are about to step into the hallway, you are surprised to find <<if $chp8_43Ba_end is 1>>Sir Oren<<else>>Anu<</if>> approaching you. Realising that you will not have to seek <<if $chp8_43Ba_end is 1>>him<<else>>her<</if>> out, you step back into your room with <<if $chp8_43Ba_end is 1>>Sir Oren<<else>>Anu<</if>> following after you. "I was hoping we could speak," <<if $chp8_43Ba_end is 1>>Sir Oren<<else>>Anu<</if>> states. <<if $chp8_43Ba_end is 2>>[["You can stay if you want," you respond. "I would appreciate having someone to talk to."|chp8_43Bc1]]<<else>>[["Yes, I would like that," you answer.|chp8_43Bb1]]<</if>>

<<if $chp8_43Ba1 is 1>> "I am grateful for you concern, Irus," you murmur. "It is still odd to have so many that care." You are uncertain whether it is surprise or gratitude the reign in your chest as you stare at Prince Irus. It is difficult to recall a time before leaving Salt Bay where anyone showed you much concern other than Ahlf. As you gaze at Prince Irus, your chest swells with warmth and you swallow a painful lump, suddenly overcome with gratitude. Prince Irus' gaze softens and he draws closer to you. A gentle smile pulls at his lips and when you look at him, you find that all traces of anger and panic have vanished from his expression. He reaches out and clutches your shoulder. His fingers are warm and steady against you and you let out a breath, uncertain when you began to hold it in. "We all care for you, $name," Prince Irus replies. "You have helped me more than anyone I know. Of course, I will always care about you, whether you want me to or not." You smile in response. "You are a good friend to me, Irus." Prince Irus chuckles and runs a hand through his blond hair. "Of course I am a good friend. Just ask Ellie. She will deny it, but I am the best friend any of you have." A burst of laughter escapes you. "She will deny it but I will not. Thank you for caring, Irus." His eyes meet yours and he nods. "Of course, $name." <<elseif $chp8_43Ba1 is 2>> "I appreciate your sentiments, but I am capable of taking care of myself," you explain. As you gaze at Prince Irus, your thoughts are drawn to your childhood and the past you endured as being an outsider in Salt Bay. Perhaps once, you cowered in fear and needed protection, but you are no longer a scared child. You have overcome the Blood Guard and the turmoil of your complicated familial bonds and in that time, you have become far stronger. Prince Irus lets out a breath and glances away. "I know you are, $name." You tilt your head as you look at Prince Irus. "You do?" He turns to look at you once more. His blue eyes are filled with admiration and you are taken aback by the emotion. Offering you a smile, Prince Irus steps closer to you and you notice the softness in his expression. He looks at you with warmth, not pity and your chest tightens suddenly with an emotion you cannot name. "You are stronger and braver than I am," he murmurs. "Of course I know you can take care of yourself. You have done so long before we met, $name." You look down for a moment. "Then you will accept that I do not always need the help of others, even from you?" Prince Irus sighs. "I... I will always worry about those I care about. But, if this is what you want then I will abide by your decision." You smile at him. "Thank you, Irus. I am grateful that you understand." He shrugs and offers you a bashful smile. "Of course, $name." <<elseif $chp8_43Ba1 is 3>> "You need not concern yourself over Emos," you mutter. "I assure you that I am not some weakling in need of saving." Resentment twists in your gut and spews out your mouth with anger. Your fingers press into your palms and you feel the bite of your nails against your skin. Why are you always seen as weak? You frown. Emos is an obstacle that you must overcome alone. You do not need the aid of your companions to resolve your problems for you. Prince Irus frowns at your response and averts his gaze. "I did not mean you are a weakling, $name." You scoff, "It matters not what you meant. I have been dealing with those like Emos long before I met you, Irus. Do not think I need you concern now." He stares at you, his mouth opening and closing before he looks out the window. Neither of you break the silence that falls over the room. The tension is heavy and filled with the bitterness of your words. But you will not take back what you have said. Being treated as someone in need of protection is insulting, especially when you are no longer a frightened child. "I am sorry," Prince Irus breathes. You begin to reply but he waves his hand, silencing you. Frowning, you look at Prince Irus and find his blue eyes filled with determination. "You have endured much more than I can ever know," he explains. "Because of the actions of my father and because of people like Emos. I know you do not need saving from me or the others. I assure you that I will do everything that I can to stop this from happening again to others." It is not an apology for his concern but a declaration of what he hopes to stop. You do not respond, unable to form the words to express your thoughts and simply nod. <<elseif $chp8_43Ba1 is 4>> "Thank you for caring about me," you breathe, feeling you cheeks grow warm. Heat, ferocious and never-ending, swirls in your stomach before it travels up your neck and settles against your cheeks. You are warm and cannot breathe. It is suddenly too stuffy in the room and you swallow, feeling nervous and excited all at once. Prince Irus' blue eyes trace over your features before his gaze slips down to where your lips part slightly. "I will always care about you, Beloved," he responds. Stepping closer, he offers you a teasing smile. "After all, I do not intend on going anywhere without you by my side." "Oh," you mumble. He raises an eyebrow at your sudden loss of words. But you cannot think of a reply. Your thoughts tumble around, desperate to think of anything but the way his fingers reach out to cup your chin. His thumb runs along the seam of your lower lip and you shudder as longing tugs at your chest. Prince Irus smiles, leaning closer as his breath brushes against your cheeks and places a gentle peck against the corner of your mouth. His lips linger against your skin and you feel the heat radiate off of him like the gentle embers of a fire. It burns you and yet, you cannot bring yourself to pull away for you are desperate to remain like this for as long as you can. Eventually, Prince Irus draws away. His eyes dance with amusement and affection and your knees nearly buckle beneath you. "Are you at loss for words?" he asks. You struggle to think of a coherent respond. "N-No." He throws his head back and laughs. The sound reverberates through your chest before he draws away. You almost reach out to pull him close but the teasing in his expression makes you stop. He cares about you, you remind yourself. And somehow, the thought alone is enough to make your heartbeat quicken. <<elseif $chp8_43Ba1 is 5>> "I must admit that your concern warms my heart," you respond with a grin. "Perhaps I shall have to find a way to repay you for your kindness." Flirting with Prince Irus has become a dance between you. You stare at him with your teasing grin and raise an eyebrow, daring him to respond in kind. He does not disappoint you for before you can blink, he strides to you and slips his arms around your waist. You let out a surprised breath as you feel the press of his fingers against the small part of your back. Prince Irus' mouth pulls up as he gazes at you. His expression is heavy with desire and it sends a shudder through you. This close, you can feel the soft puff of his breaths against your cheeks and smell the scent of sea spray in his hair. He is //yours//, you think and it is enough to cause your stomach to tighten in anticipation. "We are all alone here, $name," he murmurs. "I can think of many ways on how you can repay me." His voice is low and deep. It slips over your skin like the caress of silk. You meet his blue eyes and find them darker than usual, as though they have been dipped in ink and suddenly hungry with desire. Your fingers reach up and curl around his chin. There is a slight prickly sensation from where his stubble has grown out over the journey and you run the pads of your fingers to slip against his cheek. "Oh?" you ask. Leaning closer, his lips brush against your forehead before lowering to the side of your face. His mouth is warm and soft against your skin and you grow hot at the touch. When Prince Irus pulls away, his eyes glint with amusement and you mourn the loss of his heat. "Perhaps later," he explains. "When we are certain not to be interrupted, I will show you what I mean." <<elseif $chp8_43Ba1 is 6>> "Your concern for me is touching," you murmur. "But please do not think that I am in need of rescuing from those who would hurt me simply because of my heritage." Prince Irus frowns as he regards your words but you meet his gaze steadily, hoping that he will understand you. For years, you have endured the hatred for being born with Ishari blood on your own. Your father was never subjected to the same hatred as you were and for that, you were alone in your suffering. Meeting Prince Irus meant that you no longer had to face the ridicule and hurt alone. Growing closer to him brought you a comfort that you did not know you could desire or possess. But as you take in his concerned gaze and the furrow that creases the skin on his forehead, you find your resolve hardening. You do not need his saving. "You are strong, yes," Prince Irus replies. "But I cannot simply turn away if you need my help." Stepping towards Prince Irus, you grasp his hands in your own and feel him squeeze your fingers in return. It sends a warm thrill down your spine and causes your chest to lurch as you stare at him. He looks at you with adoration and beneath it, a fiery determination. "I am not asking you to do that, Irus," you murmur. "I am only asking you to stop treating me as if I am helpless and in need of protection. Emos' anger towards me is nothing I have not already endured." Prince Irus scowls. "Then you would have me stand and do nothing?" You shake your head and cup the side of his face, your gaze imploring. Prince Irus glances at you before the tension that has twisted his features eases into one of defeat. Offering him a smile, you smooth your fingers over his chin, feeling the sharp contrast of his stubble under your skin. "I would have you offer me comfort when I need it," you explain. "I am capable of fighting my own battles, Irus. Please, do not expect me to change that simply because we are courting." He sighs but there is no anger in his eyes. "If that is what you wish for then I will not go against it." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_43Ba3]]

Turning away from you, Prince Irus strides up to the window and peers through the fluttering curtains. He does not speak for a while and you use the silence to study his expression. In the months since you first fled together, you have noticed the imperceptible change in his demeanor. His fear of leading which once burnt as brightly as the sun, now simmers beneath his skin like dying embers. He must sense your stare because he turns and meets your eyes. "What is it?" <<set $chp8_43Ba3 to 0>> [["You seem more at ease with your title," you explain. "It is good to see."|chp8_43Ba4][$chp8_43Ba3 +=1]] [["How do you feel now that we are closer to reclaiming your throne?" you question.|chp8_43Ba4][$chp8_43Ba3 +=2]] [["I am proud that I chose to flee with you all those months ago," you respond. "You are a king that I would gladly follow."|chp8_43Ba4][$chp8_43Ba3 +=3]]

<<if $chp8_43Ba3 is 1>> "You seem more at ease with your title," you explain. "It is good to see." Your words seem to startle Prince Irus. He offers you a small grin before rubbing the back of his neck, suddenly appearing bashful as he looks at you. As you examine him, you are pleased to see that he does not cower from your words or frown at the notion that he will one day rule the kingdom that exiled him. "I suppose I am," Prince Irus replies. He snorts, a huffed laugh that he quickly stifles. "You know when I was still a child, I never imagined that my father would name me his heir." You glance at Prince Irus, uncertain how to respond. He rarely speaks of his father and you do not know if it is because of the war that was started or the complicated history between King Erlan and your parents. When you do not speak, Prince Irus turns to look at you. His smile has softened and for a moment, you see a glimmer of sadness in his eyes. "We were not very close towards the end," he murmurs. "I was there when he fell ill. I spent more time with him in his last months than I did in all the years before that." "What was he like?" you ask, suddenly curious. "As a father?" Prince Irus glances at you, a myriad of emotions swallowing his eyes. But what is clear is his grief. Perhaps, like you, he did not have a father that was there when he needed him the most. "He was distant," Prince Irus replies. "But he also gave me Crown and visited me when I was a child. I do not know what type of father that makes him, only that he was mine." <<elseif $chp8_43Ba3 is 2>> "How do you feel now that we are closer to reclaiming your throne?" you question. You have been thinking about the consequences of failing in your bid to help Prince Irus secure his throne and none seem to end in anything but death and more violence. The man you chose to follow stands before you now, a look of deep contemplation on his face as he regards your question. "I do not know," Prince Irus admits after a moment. "When I close my eyes, I can still see the nobles my uncle swayed to his side who supported him when he exiled me. I can still remember my father's death being announced and then fleeing to Salt Bay where I met your father and you." It is difficult to remember a time when you were not fleeing but you realise that like Prince Irus, you too are caught between your past and what lies ahead of you. In the moments of quiet, when you are alone with your thoughts, it is difficult to cast away the memories that come unbidden as if summoned by the very silence that weighs on you. "Do you fear what will happen when you eventually have to reclaim your throne and face your uncle?" you ask. Prince Irus rubs a hand over his face and sighs. "It used to frighten me when I first left but now, it is the fear of what will happen if I do not stop my uncle that I think about." He glances at you. "My uncle is a traitor but I am uncertain what I will decide to do with him once the war is over." You nod in response though you do not voice your thoughts. Most would argue for Virion's death and some might claim imprisonment would be best. Your own opinions on what will happen to Virion does not matter, not when you are far from ready in meeting him on the battlefield. <<elseif $chp8_43Ba3 is 3>> "I am proud that I chose to flee with you all those months ago," you respond. "You are a king that I would gladly follow." As you speak the words, you know that they are filled with the truth. Prince Irus has proven to be far more different than his father and his bloodthirsty uncle. But it is his acceptance of your heritage that has mattered the most to you. Despite King Erlan's role in the war against Ishari, Prince Irus has never looked at you differently because of your blood. "$name," Prince Irus states then stops, his eyes finding yours. "Do you truly mean that? I would not fault you if you regret joining me. This journey has been dangerous and long." You shake your head at him. "It is true that this journey has been dangerous but I meant what I said. You are a good man, Irus, and I know that you will make an even better king." His expression softens with gratitude and he steps closer, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder. You offer him a smile and you are pleased when he returns the gesture with his own. Your thoughts drift towards the night you first met and you are grateful that you chose to follow him then. Without Prince Irus, you might never have discovered so much of your family and the past that had been hidden from you. "I am grateful for you, $name," Prince Irus breathes. "When I begin to doubt this task I have before me, knowing that you are by my side is enough to cast away my apprehension." <<elseif $chp8_43Ba3 is 4>> "It is about time you finally accepted your responsibilities as a prince," you huff. Prince Irus stares at you with a look bewildered surprise on his face. You refuse to apologise for the harshness of your words for they were truthful. It has been months since you fled Salt Bay and it has taken him far longer than it should have for the weight of his duties to finally take hold. You turn away from Prince Irus' gaze. He is a prince and the life of opulence and wealth comes at the price of leading a nation. "I know that I am not the leader anyone was expecting," Prince Irus replies. "But I have been trying to be better." You frown. "You need to do more than try, Irus. This task you have will not end when you reclaim the throne. People will expect you to lead them through the muddy waters of peace when the war is over." Prince Irus looks away. You watch as his hands curl into fists at his sides but he does not reply and you vaguely wonder if he is afraid that he will lash out at you. A tired breath escapes you and you turn to face him fully. Coddling him will not help him in his bid to reclaim the throne. "The war will not be won if you do not act like the leader Cyre needs," you explain. "It is better that you accept this now and not when we face your uncle again." <</if>> [[Next.|$chp8_43Ba5]]

Your conversation is interrupted when the attendant who escorted you to your room earlier, returns with a tray filled with gleaming bowls of sliced fruits and a pitcher filled with a deep amber liquid. The attendant notices Prince Irus' presence and bows hastily. "Forgive me, Your Highness," he apologises. "I did not realise that you would be present as well. Allow me to summon more refreshments for you." Prince Irus waves away the offer with his hand. "That will not be needed. I am certain that what you have brought will be enough." The attendant bows once again and sets down the tray before excusing himself. When you are alone once more, you raise an eyebrow at Prince Irus. "You intend to fill yourself on my refreshments?" you ask. Prince Irus shrugs, already pouring himself a goblet of the sweetened drink. "I am certain that //Dena// will be more than happy to provide you with anything you need." <<set $chp8_43Ba5 to 0>> [["You do not like Dena?" you ask in confusion.|chp8_43Ba6][$chp8_43Ba5 +=1]] [["I suppose you are upset because I did not mention Dena to you before," you remark.|chp8_43Ba6][$chp8_43Ba5 +=2]] [["Dena is not my friend," you mutter. "And I do not appreciate your insinuation that Dena favours me because of my past."|chp8_43Ba6][$chp8_43Ba5 +=3]] <<if $irus_lock is true>>[[♡"I do not understand," you mumble. "Does Dena knowing me upset you?"|chp8_43Ba6][$chp8_43Ba5 +=4, $irusRom +=5]] [[♡"I do not believe it," you tease. "You are jealous of Dena."|chp8_43Ba6][$chp8_43Ba5 +=5, $irusRom +=5]]<</if>>

<<if $chp8_43Ba5 is 1>> "You do not like Dena?" you ask in confusion. Prince Irus frowns and turns away from your stare. You peer at the side of his face, noticing the traces of red dotting against his skin. When he does not respond, you draw closer to where he stands; his hands resting against the table with refreshments. "Irus," you call. "Is something wrong?" He shakes his head. "Nothing is wrong." You gaze at him. "Then why are you sulking at the mention of Dena?" "I am //not// sulking," Prince Irus huffs. "I only find it odd that you have never mentioned $Dhim to me before." You are uncertain whether to be amused by Prince Irus' signs of frustration or offended that he would care so much for something so trivial. Opening your mouth, you find yourself at a loss for words and you busy yourself with plucking a ripened fruit from the tray. It is sweet on your tongue and the seeds are crushed between your teeth. As you chew, you steal a glance at Prince Irus. "I did not think it was necessary to bring up Dena before," you murmur. "My past is not something I often talk about, nor do you." Prince Irus grows still at your words before he nods. "I know. I suppose I thought we were close enough to share parts of our past." <<if $irusRel lte 49>>"We are hardly close enough to share stories," you retort. "I owe you nothing other than the aid I have given you."<<else>>"There has not been time to discuss our pasts and the friends we kept as children," you explain. "When the war is over, we can discuss it then."<</if>> <<elseif $chp8_43Ba5 is 2>> "I suppose you are upset because I did not mention Dena to you before," you remark. Your words garner a surprised snort from Prince Irus and you turn to meet his eyes. He stares at you, his cheeks darkening with heat before he quickly turns away and busies himself with the pitcher on the tray. You watch him; noting the way his fingers fidget with the goblet and the uneasy expression that twists his features. "That is what you are upset about?" you ask, realisation dawning on you. "I did not think to mention Dena to you before because I had not thought about $Dhim since $Dhe left." Prince Irus shrugs. "I am not upset." His words are abrupt and his eyes remain focussed on the goblet in his grasp. You let out a breath and make your way towards him. Casting a look at the tray, you allow your hand to pluck a ripened berry and you bite into it, hoping to gather your thoughts as you regard Prince Irus. "You sound upset," you comment. Prince Irus turns to face you. His blue eyes swirl with an emotion that reminds you of the jealousy you once felt towards the other children in Salt Bay. They never seemed as alone as you were and looking at Prince Irus now, you realise that he must be feeling the same. "I am grateful that you were not as alone as I thought for Dena was there," Prince Irus explains. "I only had hoped that you would have mentioned $Dhim before." You turn away from his peering gaze. "I did not think that I would have seen Dena again after $Dhe left." Turning, you meet Prince Irus' eyes. "It is not because I do not trust you, only that I did not think it mattered." <<elseif $chp8_43Ba5 is 3>> "Dena is not my friend," you mutter. "And I do not appreciate your insinuation that Dena favours me because of my past." Your words come out harsher than you intended them and it elicits a look of surprise from Prince Irus. He stares at you with a sliver of concern and you tense under his expression. Turning away, you stride towards the tray and pluck a green fruit. It is waxy under your fingers and when you press it between your lips, you are surprised when its skin give way to a burst of sweetness. You chew, trying to settle your thoughts, but it is difficult to know how to command memories of Dena away. Dena saved you from Emos once as a child, but does that make $Dhim your friend? Perhaps Dena only sees you as a way to get closer to your companions and $Dhis favour must be to ensure $Dhis own goals are met. "I thought that you were friends," Prince Irus murmurs. "When $Dhe saw you, Dena seemed pleased." A snort escapes you. "Dena met me twice when I was an adolescent in Salt Bay. I cannot say that our scarce time together made us friends." Prince Irus nods. "I see." You raise an eyebrow at him. "You sounded upset earlier, why?" A sharp breath escapes Prince Irus and he averts his eyes from you. "You must be mistaken, $name. I was not upset." <<elseif $chp8_43Ba5 is 4>> "I do not understand," you mumble. "Does Dena knowing me upset you?" Meeting Dena again after all these years is something you did not think would happen. It had been a surprise to both you and to Dena and yet, as you examine Prince Irus' expression, you find that there is a frown against his lips and a twist in his expression that mars his attractiveness. Prince Irus meets your eyes. His blue gaze sweeps over your face before he lets out a breath and runs his fingers through the loose curls of his hair. "I am not upset, $name. You are allowed to know other people." You frown and reach out to grasp his hand. "What is it, Irus? You are not telling me your true thoughts." His eyes drop to where your hand grips his and he reaches out to stroke his thumb over your knuckles. The touch draws a breath from you and Prince Irus looks up to meet your eyes. Leaning closer, he places his lips against your forehead in a barely-there kiss but it is enough to feel his heated breath and the outline of his mouth on your skin. "I just do not like the way that Dena looks at you," Prince Irus responds. "How does Dena look at me?" you ask, your confusion growing. Prince Irus smiles suddenly and shakes his head. "It is nothing. Forget I said anything, $name." You open your mouth to protest, but Prince Irus presses another kiss against your temple before he turns away to busy himself with the pitcher on the tray. Staring at him, you cannot help but wonder what it is he was about to say. <<elseif $chp8_43Ba5 is 5>> "I do not believe it," you tease. "You are jealous of Dena." Your grin widens when you catch the look of sheepish surprise on Prince Irus' face. He turns to stare at you, his cheeks turning slightly red at your words before he lets out a forced laugh. As you examine the side of his face, you feel a rush of satisfaction at flustering him. "I am not jealous, $name," Prince Irus mutters. "What is there to be jealous of?" You tap your chin in thought, your lips pulling up into a smirk. "Dena is attractive." Prince Irus snorts. "Anyone can be attractive." "Oh?" you question. "Well $Dhe is attractive and quite wealthy. Did you see $Dhis coat and the rings?" A grunt of annoyance escapes Prince Irus. Your eyes trace down to where his fingers grip the edge of the table tightly and your smile softens slightly. Drawing closer, you reach out and thread your arms around Prince Irus' neck. He does his best to look upset, but you feel his hands shift to your waist, drawing you even closer to his chest. "There is nothing to be jealous about," you murmur. "I do not care for Dena in the way that I care about you, Irus." Your lips press a soft kiss to his cheek. "Besides, you are far more attractive." He scoffs but there is a note of affection in the sound. "Of course I am. It is why you fell for me." You raise your eyebrows at Prince Irus. "I think it is the other way around, but I will forgive you since you are so overcome with jealousy." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_43Ba7]]

Prince Irus turns to meet your eyes and you note the way he stands taller. There is a note of seriousness in his expression and you are reminded that the outcome of Dena and Queen Elora's meeting with Sovereign Baen will influence Prince Irus' bid to reclaim his throne. He lets out a breath and turns to take in the opulence of your room. When he eventually speaks, his voice is low as though he is weighed by the heavy burden of his duties. "Do you think that I can trust Dena?" he asks. "You know $Dhim better than any of us." <<set $chp8_43Ba7 to 0>> [["I believe that Dena wants to do what is right," you explain. "And that means helping you."|chp8_43Ba8][$chp8_43Ba7 +=1]] [["I know Dena as well as you do," you state. "I cannot say that Dena is trustworthy, only that we need a fleet to win the war against your uncle."|chp8_43Ba8][$chp8_43Ba7 +=2]] [["You can trust Dena," you answer. "Dena will want to end the war as much as we do."|chp8_43Ba8][$chp8_43Ba7 +=3]]

<<if $chp8_43Ba7 is 1>> "I believe that Dena wants to do what is right," you explain. "And that means helping you." Dena doing the right thing does not make $Dhim trustworthy and something in your expression must reflect that because Prince Irus frowns. He turns to stare at the room once more, his eyes focussed on something you cannot seem to see. You do not know Dena as well as those who have served under $Dhim in the Southern Islands, but you do know that $Dhe seems willing to help those who need it the most. "What if helping my uncle serves Dena's interests more?" Prince Irus asks. "What then?" You study his expression before you respond. "Then you gather the allies you do have. Dena's fleet can help but it does not mean we are reliant only on $Dhim. I am certain that Queen Elora and Princess Lamahu will lend whatever aid they possess to aid you, Irus." He lets out a breath and his shoulders lose their stiffness. "You are right, $name. Thank you." <<elseif $chp8_43Ba7 is 2>> "I know Dena as well as you do," you state. "I cannot say that Dena is trustworthy, only that we need a fleet to win the war against your uncle." The last time you saw Dena, you were still in Salt Bay and knew nothing beyond the scorn of those around you. You cannot deny that years have passed since then and like you, Dena must have changed in ways that you do not know. Prince Irus turns to look at you and lets out a breath, his shoulders slumping as if in defeat. "I need a fleet and warriors," he sighs. Running a hand through his hair, Prince Irus stares at the wall across from him. "It seems to be an impossible task to achieve. I am always dependent on the aid of others." You turn to stare at Prince Irus, waiting for him to look up at you. When he does, you offer him a look of reassurance. "This is what politics and being a leader is about," you say. "Navigating trade deals and alliances is something that you will have to do when you are king. Know that if you succeed, you will have more to bargain with other than overthrowing your uncle and ending the war." <<elseif $chp8_43Ba7 is 3>> "You can trust Dena," you answer. "Dena will want to end the war as much as we do." Some might call you foolish for believing your words but you know that Dena has always sought to help those like you. In your adolescence, Dena helped you against Emos and now, $Dhe is helping you with the promise of $Dhis fleet. You know that you can trust Dena and you turn to look at Prince Irus with a look of reassurance. "You believe that?" Prince Irus asks. You nod. "Dena will not abide the violence of the Blood Guard or your uncle. I am certain of this." Prince Irus lets out a breath and he offers you a small smile. "That calms my thoughts, $name. It is good to know that you speak so highly of Dena for I fear that I depend too much on the aid of others to help win the war." "The war is not just yours alone, Irus," you explain. "We have all chosen to follow you because none of us want the war to continue. You have our support just as you will have Dena's." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_43Ba9]]

Prince Irus is the first to pull away from your room. He stretches his arms above his head and offers you a slight nod of appreciation. You glance at the window, noting the sun's lowering position and realise that you have spent much longer talking to him than you realised. "I must take my leave, $name," he explains. "Ellie has asked me to finalise the details of the treaty I am to propose to Dena when they return." "Of course," you answer. Smiling, Prince Irus glances at you before he departs from your room. You stare after him for a moment before the weariness of your travels returns. With a tired glance at the bed, you allow yourself to seek a moment of respite from the war and the long journey and clamber onto the soft mattress. Your eyelids droop until there is nothing more but the silence of sleep. [[Next.|chp8_43Ba10]]

You awaken with a jolt. Blinking, you find that your mouth is dry and your head feels heavy with fatigue. In the distance, you hear the thunderous chimes of bells and move away from the bed you found rest on. As you peer through the window, you spot a boat drawing closer to the shore. Two familiar figures stand at the fore and any remnants of sleep are quickly cast away. Queen Elora and Dena have returned. Smoothing down the material of your tunic, you hurry out of your room knowing that whatever news they bring will affect the outcome of the alliance. [[Next.|chp8_44]]

"Not now, Sir Oren," you reply. "I had hoped to spend my afternoon differently." Sir Oren's expression falls before he bows his head slightly. You frown at his expression but you do not get the time to linger on it because Sir Oren looks up once more with a small smile on his face. The tension that had followed him into the room is once more visible in the tautness of his shoulders. "Of course, $name," he states. "I did not mean to intrude. I will take my leave and bid you a good afternoon." He turns away and leaves the room and once more, the room is enveloped in silence. As you think about Sir Oren's offer of spending the afternoon with him, your thoughts stray to your other companions. <<set $chp8_43Bb_end to 0>> [[You will spend your afternoon with Prince Irus.|chp8_43Bb_end1][$chp8_43Bb_end +=1]] [[You will seek out Anu for companionship.|chp8_43Bb_end1][$chp8_43Bb_end +=2]]

"Yes, I would like that," you answer Your words elicit a gentle smile from Sir Oren and he steps further into your room. Unclasped, his hands now settle over the back of the chair at the far side of the room and he draws it out before taking a seat. Even as he sits, Sir Oren's size seems to swallow most of the room and you are reminded once more of his training as a guard and the strength that seems easily forgotten when faced with his kind expression. "I am grateful for your company, $name," Sir Oren responds. "I must admit, I do not know what to do without Her Majesty. She advised me that my presence would not aid her in meeting Sovereign Baen." You gaze at his face, noting Sir Oren's disappointment and the way his lips pull into a frown. "You are keeping Prince Irus and me safe. That is doing something worthwhile, I would think." Sir Oren's hazel eyes flick towards your face and you watch as he takes in your appearance with a look of concern. "Are you faring well after today? It was an unpleasant thing to be accosted like that." He pauses, his eyes softening. "It is good that <<if $chp8_33 is 1>>His Highness<<elseif $chp8_33 is 2>>Her Majesty<<elseif $chp8_33 is 3>>I<<elseif $chp8_33 is 4>>Anu<<else>>Dena<</if>> was there to stop it from becoming worse." He is referring to Emos and the memories of encountering your old tormenter returns with a sickening twist in your stomach. You look down at your hands before you speak. <<set $chp8_43Bb1 to 0>> [["It is sweet of you to worry about me," you respond. "But I am well, I assure you."|chp8_43Bb2][$chp8_43Bb1 +=1, $orenRel +=2]] [["It was unpleasant," you admit. "Seeing Emos again only reminded me of the hatred I faced as a child."|chp8_43Bb2][$chp8_43Bb1 +=2, $orenRel +=2]] [["I do not need your concern," you spit. "Stop meddling in my affairs for I do not need your coddling."|chp8_43Bb2][$chp8_43Bb1 +=3, $orenRel -=2]] [[♡"You do not need to worry about me," you mumble, suddenly warm at his concern for you. "There must be far better things for you to worry about."|chp8_43Bb2][$chp8_43Bb1 +=4, $orenRom +=5, $orenRel +=2]] [[♡"You make a very cute expression when you are concerned about me," you respond with a smirk. "I only wonder what expression you will make when I thank you profusely for your kindness."|chp8_43Bb2][$chp8_43Bb1 +=5, $orenRel +=2, $orenRom +=5]] [[♡"I am grateful for your concern," you murmur. "But please do not think that I am incapable of protecting myself, Sir Oren."|chp8_43Bb2][$chp8_43Bb1 +=6, $orenRel +=2, $orenRom +=5]]

You move to leave your room but as you are about to step into the hallway, you are surprised to find <<if $chp8_43Bb_end is 1>>Prince Irus<<else>>Anu<</if>> approaching you. Realising that you will not have to seek <<if $chp8_43Bb_end is 1>>him<<else>>her<</if>> out, you step back into your room with <<if $chp8_43Bb_end is 1>>Prince Irus<<else>>Anu<</if>> following after you. "I was hoping we could speak," <<if $chp8_43Bb_end is 1>>Prince Irus<<else>>Anu<</if>> states. <<if $chp8_43Bb_end is 2>>[["You can stay if you want," you respond. "I would appreciate having someone to talk to."|chp8_43Bc1]]<<else>>[["Yes," you agree. "There is much to discuss."|chp8_43Ba1]]<</if>>

<<if $chp8_43Bb1 is 1>> "It is sweet of you to worry about me," you respond. "But I am well, I assure you." Sir Oren examines your face, his eyes tracing over your features before he lets out a small breath. There is relief visible in his hazel eyes and his shoulders sag. For the first time since he entered your room, you become aware of the toll the journey seems to have taken on the guard captain. There are dark shadows beneath his eyes and his beard, normally trimmed neatly, now sits thicker than you are accustomed to. "I am grateful to hear that, $name," Sir Oren replies. His face creases with empathy. "I am only sorry that you had to face such unjust treatment when you were younger." His words ring with a hollow sadness that echoes in your ears. You swallow, suddenly finding it difficult to meet Sir Oren's eyes and look away. //Unjust treatment// does not seem to encompass all you have suffered in Salt Bay. You were turned away and scorned for simply being different and now that you left, it seems you will always be reminded of your parentage. "It is not something you should apologise for," you breathe. "You have been kinder to me than others have ever tried." Sir Oren's face falls. "It hurts me to think that there are those like Emos throughout the region. I can only hope that the end of the war will bring a stop to such hatred." You nod. "I hope so too." <<elseif $chp8_43Bb1 is 2>> "It was unpleasant," you admit. "Seeing Emos again only reminded me of the hatred I faced as a child." The words feel leaden in your mouth as though you have swallowed rocks and are trying to speak over their rough edges against your gums. Sir Oren's gaze meets yours and in that moment, you see his concern give way to sorrow and then, a deep remorse. You frown in confusion. There is nothing that Sir Oren should feel remorseful about. He is not responsible for those like Emos. "I... I cannot imagine how painful it must have been for you, $name," he murmurs. His fingers wring together. "You are far more courageous than most to endure such hatred." A bitter laugh escapes you. Your throat feels tight and it is difficult to swallow a full breath. "I do not think it is courage that let me survive this long. Perhaps my fear of dying alone is what kept me alive." Sir Oren's eyebrows furrow and he stares at you with a painful expression. He does not regard you with pity, but understanding and you are suddenly warmed to know that there is someone who sees you as more than just your heritage. "Whatever your reasons may be, $name," Sir Oren responds, "I am happy that I have come to know you." His words unwind the constricting grip on your chest and you exhale deeply. "Thank you, Sir Oren." <<elseif $chp8_43Bb1 is 3>> "I do not need your concern," you spit. "Stop meddling in my affairs for I do not need your coddling." You do not need anyone's pity, least of all Sir Oren's. Your anger unravels until it is a raging inferno within your blood. You glare at Sir Oren, your jaws clenched and your teeth pressed together as though you are an untamed beast. Being on the other side of taunts and scorn is nothing that you have never faced before and you have no need for sympathy now. "$name," Sir Oren mumbles, surprised by your sudden rage. "I am not trying to meddle." You scoff, "Then what is it? You feel sorry for me that you finally are to bear witness of what I have endured since I was a child?" "No. Of course not," he replies. Your nails dig into the skin of your palms and you turn away, unable to withstand the sorrowful look in Sir Oren's hazel eyes. How dare he? You have overcome far worse and to be rendered nothing more than someone in need of protection infuriates you. "This is nothing new," you hiss. "I have spent years of my life exposed to far worse than Emos. Do not think that I need your help now. I never did and I never will." Sir Oren's expression falters. He does not speak and you are suddenly grateful for the silence. It eases your drumming heartbeat and slows your sharp breaths until you are no longer clenching your hands at your sides. <<elseif $chp8_43Bb1 is 4>> "You do not need to worry about me," you mumble, suddenly warm at his concern for you. "There must be far better things for you to worry about." It is suddenly difficult to meet Sir Oren's eyes without fidgeting where you stand. Your chest expands with your breaths and your stomach tumbles around as though you are about to retch. And yet, despite the heat in your cheeks and the warmth the expands from your chest, you force yourself to steal a glance at Sir Oren's face. He stares at you in confusion before he stands from his chair and draws nearer. You are overwhelmed by his presence and the heat that escapes his lips. Gently, as if you are something precious, Sir Oren places his palms on your shoulders. His fingers are warm and send a thrill of longing through you. "$name," he murmurs. His voice is soft and his gaze focussed entirely on you. "There is nothing more important to me than worrying about your safety." "Oh," you breathe. Words seem to escape you and you can barely think. Sir Oren smells like cloves and his eyes, so warm and full of affection, do not leave your face for a second. Your stomach twists and you are suddenly aware of how closely that you stand to him. Perhaps sensing your thoughts, Sir Oren's eyes widen and he withdraws his touch. "Forgive me," he apologises. "I did not mean to make you uncomfortable." You shake your head. "You could never make me uncomfortable, Sir Oren." A small smile pulls at his lips and it is enough to send your heartbeat thundering beneath your chest. "I am far more relieved to hear that than I should admit, $name." <<elseif $chp8_43Bb1 is 5>> "You make a very cute expression when you are concerned about me," you respond with a smirk. "I only wonder what expression you will make when I thank you profusely for your kindness." Sir Oren, you have come to understand, is far too proper to flirt openly with you. And yet, it does not preclude you from doing so yourself. Your lips pull up at the deep red that spreads across his cheeks and nose, disappearing beneath the darkness of his beard. Your eyes trace over his features, taking note of his strong jawline and the fullness of his lips. "Oh," he mumbles. "That will not be necessary. I do not need any thanks, $name." Your legs carry you closer to where he sits and you resist the urge to smirk when you find his hazel eyes dropping to take in your form. Sir Oren may be too polite to openly flirt with you, but you are not ignorant to the hunger in his gaze or the way he swallows at your nearness. "You would deny my gratitude?" you question. Sir Oren's eyes widen and he flusters. "That is not what I meant. I only meant that..." His words trail off as you reach out, cupping the side of his face. You are surprised that his beard is not prickly like you imagined and you run your fingers down to cup his chin. Sir Oren's eyes flick upwards to meet yours and you grin at him, pleased at his unwavering attention. "What did you mean, Captain?" you ask. Sir Oren shakes his head. "Nothing. I meant nothing." A burst of laughter escapes you before you withdraw, enjoying the way Sir Oren seems to lean forward as if wanting to linger in your hold for eternity. <<elseif $chp8_43Bb1 is 6>> "I am grateful for your concern," you murmur. "But please do not think that I am incapable of protecting myself, Sir Oren. Sir Oren is a kind man and one who has protected you and your companions throughout the journey. You are touched by his concern for you - something that is still strange and new to you but you cannot bring yourself to accept his concern now. You have dealt with people like Emos for years before meeting your companions and before ever encountering Sir Oren. You are proud for overcoming such hardships and you will continue to do so as if you have always done. "I did not intend to imply that you are incapable of protecting yourself, $name," Sir Oren breathes. His eyes are wide in shame. "You are one of the strongest people I know." A smile pulls at your lips and your expression softens. "Thank you for thinking so. I know that it is difficult to fathom that people like Emos continue to hate those like me, but I want you to know that I do not need your help in this." Sir Oren stares at you with a deepening frown. He has rarely ever argued with you and yet, you think that the expression he wears suggests that he would very much like to protest against your words. You meet his hazel eyes and silently implore him to accept your competence in standing against those like Emos. Sighing, Sir Oren looks away. "I understand, $name. I wish I did not but I know that some battles cannot be shared." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_43Bb3]]

Your conversation with Sir Oren lulls, though the silence that descends upon you both is not truly uncomfortable. In the late afternoon, the room is warm and you are aware of the stickiness along your skin. Despite the closeness of the sea just beyond your window, the humidity in Mennear is nearly as intense as the heat of Ishari. As your eyes graze the side of Sir Oren's face, you find the hollow expression he wore earlier return. He does not look at you for his attention seems to be held deep within his throughts and you wonder what bothers him. When the silence stretches to becoming nearly unbearable, you decide to break it. <<set $chp8_43Bb3 to 0>> [["You seem sad," you comment. "Is everything fine?"|chp8_43Bb4][$chp8_43Bb3 +=1]] [["If you are worried about danger, I do not think we will be attacked here," you tease.|chp8_43Bb4][$chp8_43Bb3 +=2]] [["What are you thinking about so deeply?" you ask.|chp8_43Bb4][$chp8_43Bb3 +=3]]

<<if $chp8_43Bb3 is 1>> "You seem sad," you comment. "Is everything fine?" Your words seem to startle Sir Oren and he blinks, glancing at you with a surprised expression. When you frown at him in confusion, he seems to remember your question and offers you a reassuring smile. Despite the soft expression, you are not ignorant to the same, hollow look in his eyes. "It is nothing to worry about, $name," Sir Oren answers. "I am merely tired after the long journey as I am certain we all are." You stare at him and while his words ring with truth, you are suddenly aware that he is not telling you everything. Sir Oren has never done anything to put any of you in danger and so you surmise that the subject of his thoughts must be personal in nature. "Are you certain it is nothing?" you ask. He shakes his head. "It is nothing, $name. Do not trouble yourself over it. I assure you that I will be much to my old self once I have had a good night's rest." <<elseif $chp8_43Bb3 is 2>> "If you are worried about danger, I do not think we will be attacked here," you tease. You meant your words as a jest, to ease the heavy burden that seems to weigh down on Sir Oren but your words garner no response from the guard captain and you frown at him. When he realises that you are staring at him, Sir Oren flushes and runs a hand over his face. "My apologies, $name," he mumbles. "I was not paying much attention. What was it that you were saying?" "Other than the missing my sense of humour, it was nothing important," you reply. Your eyes search his face. "What is the matter?" Sir Oren shakes his head and smiles at you. "It is nothing. I am only tired. Being on a ship for long periods is never easy especially when I am prone to illness at sea." He is lying, you think. As you scan Sir Oren's expression, you note the way his eyes dart around the room and the how his fingers drum along the side of his trousers. You are uncertain what it is that holds Sir Oren's thoughts but you know that it must be something troubling for him to appear this unfocussed. "I will not pry," you explain. "Not if it is something you are not willing to share." Sir Oren smiles in relief. "Thank you, $name. I appreciate it." <<elseif $chp8_43Bb3 is 3>> "What are you thinking about so deeply?" you ask. Your bluntness seems to snap Sir Oren out of his thoughts for he looks at you with a surprised expression. You frown when you spy the way his foot taps against the floor and the tautness that pulls at his shoulders. He appears as if he is about to wade into an unwinnable battle and yet, there is no danger around you in Mennear. "I do not wish to bore you with my thoughts, $name," he replies. You stare at him in confusion. "I would not have asked if I did not want to know." "It is merely about my past," he explains. "Nothing important." "Your past?" you ask, your forehead creasing. Sir Oren nods but averts his hazel eyes from your peering stare. He does not elaborate on his thoughts or what it is about his past that seems to fill him with such sorrow. You open your mouth to ask him about it but as if sensing your words, Sir Oren fixes you with a pleading look. "I would rather not discuss it, $name," he murmurs. "Not now at least." Your lips press together and you nod at him. Despite the silence of your voice, your thoughts are thunderous with questions about what it is that Sir Oren guards so closely to his chest. <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_43Bb5]]

Between Sir Oren's sullen mood and the quiet that has befallen you both, you are suddenly grateful for when the attendant returns, bearing a tray heaped with fruits and a tall pitcher. He sets the tray down on the table at the far side of your room and bows to you and then Sir Oren apologetically. "My apologies," he states. "Shall I bring more refreshments? I did not think you would have company." You open your mouth to speak, but it is Sir Oren who placates the attendant with a gentle smile. "That will not be necessary. Please, do not go out of your way on my account." The attendant bows once more before he departs, leaving you alone with Sir Oren. You cast a look at the captain and find him gazing at the tray. It bears sweetend fruits, ripe and bursting against the ceramic bowls. Besides it, the pitcher holds a deep, amber liquid that smells like tea. "Your friend Dena seems far more wealthy than I was led to believe $Dhim to be," Sir Oren remarks. You raise an eyebrow. "You knew about $Dhis wealth before?" Sir Oren shrugs. "Lord Redall only informed me that the trader we were to meet was wealthy and possessed a fleet that we could make use of." He gestures to the opulence of the room. "But this is far more than simple wealth." <<set $chp8_43Bb5 to 0>> [["You do not seem impressed by the display of wealth," you murmur.|chp8_43Bb6][$chp8_43Bb5 +=1, $orenRel +=2]] [["Does the prospect of allying with Dena bother you?" you question.|chp8_43Bb6][$chp8_43Bb5 +=2, $orenRel+=2]] [["What does it matter if Dena is wealthy or not?" you ask, frowning. "All that matters is securing an alliance."|chp8_43Bb6][$chp8_43Bb5 +=3, $orenRel -=2]] <<if $orenRom gte 40>>[[♡"You almost sound envious," you breathe. "But I do not understand why. I think you are a remarkable man."|chp8_43Bb6][$chp8_43Bb5 +=4, $orenRel +=2, $orenRom +=5]] [[♡"Coins are nice, but I believe that you wearing your armour is a far better sight," you tease.|chp8_43Bb6][$chp8_43Bb5 +=5, $orenRel +=2, $orenRom +=5]]<</if>>

<<if $chp8_43Bb5 is 1>> "You do not seem impressed by the display of wealth," you murmur. Your words draw Sir Oren's attention to you and you find his hazel eyes filled with a complicated expression. In Vinia, there had been no absence of wealth or splendour in the palace and yet, seeing Sir Oren sitting so stiffly in your room, you become aware that he is chafing against the wealth on display. "I must admit that it is difficult to make sense of it," Sir Oren explains. He pauses, before a breath escapes him. "Her Majesty has done her best to change the way things are in Vinia. I suppose being here in Mennear only reminds me of a time when my life was not this easy." You frown. "Your life was harder?" Sir Oren stares at you for a moment before he speaks. "Life on the farm with my parents was not difficult but we lacked coin and the means to support the rest of our family. I miss my family but becoming a guard was the best thing to have happened." You cannot say that you understand exactly what Sir Oren means. For most of your life, it had only been you and Ahlf. You watched your father set out towards the shoreline every morning and you often helped selling his hauls to those willing to buy them. The coin you earned was never truly enough but you knew that you were still better off than those without a home or a meal. "You have sacrificed a lot for your family," you comment. Sir Oren smiles at you. "I do not see it as being a sacrifice, $name. I would gladly do anything I can to help those I care about." He does not outright say it but from the way Sir Oren gazes at you, you know that he includes you amongst those he cares about. Whether it is simply because of your role in aiding Prince Irus or because he truly cares does not seem to matter to Sir Oren. You nod in response, allowing yourself to return his warm smile as the knowledge of having his support settles over you. <<elseif $chp8_43Bb5 is 2>> "Does the prospect of allying with Dena bother you?" you question. Since your arrival and meeting Dena again after all these years, there has been no time to discuss what the implications of an alliance with Dena will entail. Sir Oren gazes at you with a thoughtful expression, as if considering your words deeply before he speaks. "We need allies," he states after a moment. When he does not say more, you frown. "What is it that you are not saying?" Sir Oren exhales sharply and looks away from you. His eyebrows draw together and he purses his lips, not speaking for a moment. You use that time to study his expression and note the conflicted look in his expression. "I only worry about the cost of such an alliance," Sir Oren murmurs. "With Ishari, the people want the war to end and I know that Her Majesty helps His Highness out of their friendship and because it is the right thing to do." You raise an eyebrow. "You think it will be different with Dena." "Dena has no stake in this war, $name," Sir Oren explains. "I may not be versed in politics, but I know much about warfare. Dena will help us now, but I fear the cost of $Dhis aid when the war is won." You do not respond, uncertain you know what to say, as you contemplate Sir Oren's words. Suddenly, a well of unease curls around your chest and churns like the violent currents of the sea. The captain has spoken only his opinion and yet, his words linger within you and leaves you frowning. <<elseif $chp8_43Bb5 is 3>> "What does it matter if Dena is wealthy or not?" you ask, frowning. "All that matters is securing an alliance." You regard Sir Oren with furrowed eyebrows. The war that seems as endless as it does bloody, has not abated since you fled from Salt Bay. While you have escaped unharmed for the most part, you are certain that there are many who are still mercilessly slaughtered simply for being born on the wrong side of the realms. "Alliances are costly bargains, $name," Sir Oren explains. "Being wary of those His Highness chooses to secure aid from is necessary to avoid being exploited." You huff. "If we do not accept aid from those willing to give it, we will only be weak in the face of Virion. It does not matter what the consequences of allying with Dena will be for they cannot be worse than being defeated by Virion." Sir Oren gazes at you as though he wishes to disagree with you. But something in his resolve seems to give in and he turns away from your stare with a sigh. There is a sudden silence that falls over you and you find yourself unwilling to break it. It would seem that neither of you agree on this matter and Sir Oren is willing to maintain the facade of peace between you. <<elseif $chp8_43Bb5 is 4>> "You almost sound envious," you breathe. "But I do not understand why. I think you are a remarkable man." Your voice is soft and you are afraid that he does not hear you speak. But as you stare at Sir Oren, you find him lifting his hazel eyes to meet yours. There is open affection in his gaze that sends a swirl of heat through you. You swallow, suddenly warm and flustered but you dare not look away for fear that the moment will end. "You are far too kind, $name," he murmurs. "I fear that I am not nearly as remarkable as you seem to think." You frown. "That is not true. You are a gentle man and compassionate. To me that is rarer to find than wealth." Sir Oren looks away, his skin darkening as a blush slips over his cheeks. It is fascinating to watch him, a man so commanding in front of his guards, now rendered flustered and mute before you. Your breathing quickens when he finally meets your eyes once more and your chest tightens with sudden longing. "I must admit that I have heard such things before but none seem quite as flattering as your own words," he breathes. He smiles and it sends a shiver through you. "I am grateful that you see me in such a way, $name." <<elseif $chp8_43Bb5 is 5>> "Coins are nice, but I believe that you wearing your armour is a far better sight," you tease. Your flirting does not go unnoticed and Sir Oren's eyes widen at your words. You smile, pleased at the way his skin flushes a deep red and the way it suddenly makes it difficult for him to meet your gaze. It sends a thrill of heat through you knowing that you can render him this bashful with merely a few words. "I..." he mumbles, his cheeks reddening further, before exhaling sharply. "I thank you for the compliment. But I do not wear my armour for its fashionable cut rather for protection." A laugh escapes you and you tilt your head. "Are you being obtuse on purpose? Tell me if my flirting is too much, Captain." "No!" he blurts. "No?" you ask. Your smirk widens. "Then you do enjoy the flirting or are you trying to pretend that your armour does not suit you?" "Both," he responds so softly that you have to strain to hear him. His confession causes the teasing lilt of your voice to soften and a surge of affection fills you. He is a handsome man, but it is more than just his looks that seems to draw you. There is an innate kindness in Sir Oren that you have not seen in many and it is his warmth and protectiveness of others that makes it so difficult to ignore the pull you feel towards him. "Then allow me to clear the misunderstanding," you murmur. "You are very attractive in your armour." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_43Bb7]]

Sir Oren clears his throat before he casts a look towards the pitcher that the attendant brought earlier. When you make no move to stop him, Sir Oren reaches out and fills a goblet with the sweet smelling drink and offers you one. You accept, drinking hesistantly before taking a deeper gulp when you realise it is a blend of citrus and honey. "Forgive me if I am overstepping, $name," Sir Oren murmurs, his eyes on his own goblet. "But I wanted to know something from you." "What is it?" you question. "Do you ever wish that you could have lived a life in Ishari, or perhaps Vinia instead of Cyre?" he asks. His question takes you by surprise but there is a seriousness in his eyes that tells you that Sir Oren seeks to know your answer. You hesitate, contemplating his question for a moment before you answer him. <<set $chp8_43Bb7 to 0>> [["Perhaps I did," you explain. "But not anymore. I am grateful for my experiences even if they were not all pleasant."|chp8_43Bb8][$chp8_43Bb7 +=1]] [["Yes," you murmur. "After seeing the life I could have had if I did not remain in Cyre, I think I would have liked living in a different kingdom."|chp8_43Bb8][$chp8_43Bb7 +=2]] [["I do not know," you state. "Would my life have truly been better outside of Salt Bay or would I faced another challenge that I cannot know?"|chp8_43Bb8][$chp8_43Bb7 +=3]]

<<if $chp8_43Bb7 is 1>> "Perhaps I did," you explain. "But not anymore. I am grateful for my experiences even if they were not all pleasant." You have experienced hardships for being born with the wrong blood and for being different from the other children when you were growing up. And yet, it is those same experiences that has made you stronger and into the person you have become. As you meet Sir Oren's gaze, you find him smiling at you softly though it does not explain his question. "Why are you asking me this now?" you question. Sir Oren shakes his head. "I only wished to know your thoughts on this. it pains me to know that there are many who are unable to escape the war. Her Majesty has helped many children and those in need of a new home leave Ishari, but many choose to remain whether by their own choice or because they cannot bring themselves to leave the only home they knew." You recall the children at the temple in Urur, without a family and seeking guidance from the priestesses. It is difficult to fault Sir Oren's thoughts and you nod in response, feeling the weight of your past suddenly bearing down upon your shoulders. "It is a difficult situation for many," you agree. "But I hope that with the end of the war, it will also mean the end of having to flee." <<elseif $chp8_43Bb7 is 2>> "Yes," you murmur. "After seeing the life I could have had if I did not remain in Cyre, I think I would have liked living in a different kingdom." After spending your childhood and much of your adulthood in Salt Bay, you cannot say that you were ever accepted by those around you. Your father paid you little heed in the years you spent together and the moments that he did were fleeting and left you feeling isolated. Knowing that you had a family in Vinia, one that has been warm and welcoming and knowing that $mama had settled in Vinia leaves you frustrated for you had to grow up in a land where you were hated. Sir Oren frowns. An empathetic look flashes through his hazel eyes and he offers you a sad smile. "I am sorry, $name." You wave away his apology. "It matters not now. I cannot go back and change the life I have endured but I can at least say that I am no longer in Cyre." He nods. "I believe His Highess will ensure that Cyre changes once he reclaims his throne. And for that, it will mean that others like you will no longer have to feel like outsiders." <<elseif $chp8_43Bb7 is 3>> "I do not know," you state. "Would my life have truly been better outside of Salt Bay or would I faced another challenge that I cannot know?" It is easy to say that your life would have been better with your family in Vinia and it perhaps, living with $mama would have made your connection to her stronger. But you are equally aware of the hardships that you would have faced outside of Cyre. Perhaps you would have had the sense of belonging that you lacked in Salt Bay, but would you have been able to escape the difficulties of the war if you did? "It is true," Sir Oren replies. "You cannot know the burdens you might have faced. I am sorry for asking you." You shake your head, eying him in curiosity. "Why did you ask?" Sir Oren swallows before looking away. "When I first joined the guard, I spent many days patrolling the streets where the refugees would live. Too many were orphans and some wept for the home they left. I only wondered if you felt similarly." You do not respond but you are uncertain that you would know the words to speak even if you did. It would seem many like you are torn by the conflicting emotions of not truly knowing where you belong. Perhaps, you think, you never will. <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_43Bb9]]

A flurry of voices in the hallway draws your attention away from Sir Oren before it fades. Sir Oren stands, his eyes meeting yours briefly. The earlier tension that had gripped him so tightly has lessened somewhat and he offers you a small smile. "I thank you for offering me company," Sir Oren explains. "I will take my leave of you. I have tarried long enough." You nod in response and watch as Sir Oren leaves your room. Once he is gone, you are cast into silence once more and you turn to finish the rest of your drink. Exhaustion settles over your bones and you stumble towards the large bed, allowing yourself to succumb to your fatigue. [[Next.|chp8_43Ba10]]

"You can stay if you want," you respond. "I would appreciate having someone to talk to." Anu scoffs but it lacks the bite of anger and steps further into your room. Her grey gaze shifts over the furniture before she pulls away the curtains and peers out towards the sea. For a moment, she does not speak and you study her expression now that her attention is no longer on you. There is a look of vigilance on her face that remains even though you are certain that there is no danger here in Mennear. You cannot help but wonder if it is a consequence of directly dealing with the Blood Guards for so long or if it is because Anu expects to be attacked by Dena's people. "That man from before," Anu murmurs, turning to meet your stare. "You know him." You frown. "You mean Emos?" "Emos," Anu repeats before she scowls, as if his name is poison. "Yes, him. You are fortunate that <<if $chp8_33 is 1>>the Prince<<elseif $chp8_33 is 2>>Queen Elora<<elseif $chp8_33 is 3>>the Captain<<elseif $chp8_33 is 4>>I<<else>>Dena<</if>> was there to stop him from doing far worse to you." Anu's words are spat out in frustration as if chiding you for being so reckless. You remember the bitter hatred in Emos' eyes and the snarling ferocity of his anger. Seeing him, a man who shared the home you watched burn in flames, is something you could not have prepared for. <<set $chp8_43Bc1 to 0>> [["I am grateful that nothing happened to me," you reply. "And I am even more grateful that you are concerned about my safety, Anu."|chp8_43Bc2][$chp8_43Bc1 +=1, $anuRel +=5]] [["I do not know what I would have done on my own," you confess. "Emos is someone who made my childhood awful."|chp8_43Bc2][$chp8_43Bc1 +=2, $anuRel +=2]] [["I do not need your judgment," you spit. "Emos being here was a surprise to me and I will not be caught unawares again."|chp8_43Bc2][$chp8_43Bc1 +=3, $anuRel -=2]] [[♡"I did not mean to worry you," you breathe, struck by the ferocity of Anu's gaze and the sudden warmth that fills you.|chp8_43Bc2][$chp8_43Bc1 +=4, $anuRel +=5, $anuRom +=5]] [[♡"If you are not careful, Anu, I might start to think you like me far more than you are willing to admit," you tease with a wide smirk.|chp8_43Bc2][$chp8_43Bc1 +=5, $anuRel +=5, $anuRom +=5]] [[♡"I appreciate that you are concerned about me, Anu," you breathe. "But please do not think that I am useless in the face of my enemies."|chp8_43Bc2][$chp8_43Bc1 +=6, $anuRel +=5, $anuRom +=5]]

"I do not need your protection," you explain. "You do not need to spend your afternoon with me." Anu's grey eyes narrow at your words. Once again, you are reminded that her presence on your journey seems to come more from her duties towards $mama than it does towards helping Prince Irus. Anu casts a look around your room before she folds her arms across her chest once more. "I suppose not," she huffs. She turns away, half-out of your room before she calls over her shoulder, "Do scream if you are attacked. My warriors are well-equipped to deal with any threats on this island." You do not get an opportunity to reply for Anu departs without looking back. A sigh escapes you and you run your hand over your face. You are uncertain what to make of Anu's words and are grateful that she is finally gone, leaving you to spend the day with one of your other companions. <<set $chp8_43Bc_end to 0>> [[You seek out Prince Irus.|chp8_43Bc_end1][$chp8_43Bc_end +=1]] [[You want to spend time with Sir Oren.|chp8_43Bc_end1][$chp8_43Bc_end +=2]]

You move to leave your room but as you are about to step into the hallway, you are surprised to find <<if $chp8_43Bc_end is 1>>Prince Irus<<else>>Sir Oren<</if>> approaching you. Realising that you will not have to seek him out, you step back into your room with <<if $chp8_43Bc_end is 1>>Prince Irus<<else>>Sir Oren<</if>> following after you. "I was hoping we could speak," <<if $chp8_43Bc_end is 1>>Prince Irus<<else>>Sir Oren<</if>> states. <<if $chp8_43Bc_end is 1>>[["Yes," you agree. "There is much to discuss."|chp8_43Ba1]]<<else>>[["Yes, I would like that," you answer.|chp8_43Bb1]]<</if>>

<<if $chp8_43Bc1 is 1>> "I am grateful that nothing happened to me," you reply. "And I am even more grateful that you are concerned about my safety, Anu." Your words are spoken with soft sincerity. Anu's eyes widen for a moment before she looks away, her expression creasing under your stare. She opens her mouth then closes it and instead, grips the edge of the nearby table tightly. You frown in confusion. She seems to want to say something but cannot bring herself to speak. "Anu?" you call. She lets out a breath, waving off your concern before turning to meet your eyes. You are surprised to see raw vulnerability in her gaze. It is a stark contrast to her usual look of frustration and you are taken aback when she draws to her full height as she regards you with a determined look. "You do not need to be grateful for something like this, $name," she murmurs. "I made an oath to protect our people from those who would hate us for our blood. You will always have my protection." You stare at her, uncertain how to respond to her declaration. She does not waver nor does she look away from your eyes. Instead, there is a ferocity in the way she gazes at you as though she has pledged her fealty to you. "Thank you," you breathe. It feels strange to have her so invested in your well-being but you cannot deny that it fills you with gratitude. "I will not squander your kindness." <<elseif $chp8_43Bc1 is 2>> "I do not know what I would have done on my own," you confess. "Emos is someone who made my childhood awful." Speaking his name so freely is enough to make your throat tighten and your breathing quickens. You avert your eyes from Anu's stare and look down at your hands. Is it fear or anger that renders you like this? You cannot know and that is what causes your stomach to twist sharply, filling you with dread. "Emos sounds like every other entitled Cyrian," Anu mutters. "Do not give him the satisfaction of cowering." Your eyebrows crease together. "It is not so easy, Anu." Anu frowns and stares at you and for a moment, you expect her to scold you for being so weak. But the longer you gaze at her, the more you become aware of the deep sadness in her grey eyes. You stare, surprised by the emotion in her gaze but it disappears almost as quickly as it arrived. "No one said this fight would be easy, $name," she murmurs. "It has broken many before us and I am certain it will continue to do so even after the war finally ends. But I know that you are stronger than those who hate us. Do not think otherwise simply because you had an unfortunate upbringing in Cyre." Your mouth grows dry and you turn to steal a look at her expression. She is smiling and there is a gentleness in her eyes that you never thought you would see directed at you from her. "You survived worse, $name," she states. "I know that you are capable of overcoming those like Emos." "What if I do not succeed?" you ask, suddenly afraid to know the answer. Anu's lips quirk into a grin that reminds you of a feral cat. "Then I shall be there with Atses' Heart to settle any differences." <<elseif $chp8_43Bc1 is 3>> "I do not need your judgment," you spit. "Emos being here was a surprise to me and I will not be caught unawares again." You do not appreciate the look that Anu casts you. It is a mixture between pity and anger as if you are as weak as you had been as a child. Your fingers curl into your palms until you feel your nails biting into your skin. Anger laced with the bitterness of being constantly seen as weak fills you with an unwavering rage that simmers like fire beneath your skin. Anu sneers at your expression and folds her arms across her chest. "You cannot expect your enemies to warn you before they attack, $name. Preparedness comes from how quickly you respond to a threat." Your teeth grind together, pressing until your jaw clenches as you watch Anu's lips peel back to reveal a cruel smirk. She is enjoying your irritation, you realise and it only serves to enrage you further. You want to lash out at the woman standing before you. She does not understand the life you led in Salt Bay. Fighting the Blood Guard is not the same as growing up as an outcast. "You will //never// understand what it is like to be me," you hiss. "For all your talk of war and preparedness, did you ever consider what my life entailed in Salt Bay?" Anu's eyes narrow and she opens her mouth to reply but you cut her off; your words pouring out like a flooded river. "Rest assured that I will not require anyone's help when I next face my enemies," you spit. <<elseif $chp8_43Bc1 is 4>> "I did not mean to worry you," you breathe, struck by the ferocity of Anu's gaze and the sudden warmth that fills you. You are enveloped by a searing heat that spreads across your chest and down your arms to the tips of your fingers. The sensation does not leave you but only grows the longer you bask in Anu's gaze. Her grey eyes alight on your features and drift over the shape of your mouth for a moment too long. It sends a shudder through you and you avert your eyes, suddenly unable to meet her stare any longer. "The truth is that I worry about you," Anu states. Her words slice through your thoughts and cause your eyes to widen in surprise. You turn to stare at her and forget how to breathe. Your chest tightens and the warmth that fluttered so fiercely returns like a soaring fire. Anu //worries// about you? Gazing at her, you are taken by the sincerity in her eyes and are suddenly aware that she has stepped precariously close to you. She is so close that you can feel the heat of her breath against your face and smell the faintness of incense in her clothes. You almost reach out to touch her but your hesitation grips you, holding you back for fear of what her reaction might be. Perhaps Anu must be thinking the same thing for she suddenly draws forward and grips your face in her palms. "I have never been one to shy away from admitting I care about others," Anu murmurs. Her grey eyes search yours. "Though I never thought I could care for someone like you, $name." You lick your lips and you are aware of how Anu's eyes follow the darting of your tongue. Heat floods your face and you realise that the soft sensation against your cheek is where her thumb traces unrecognisable patterns against your skin. "I... I care about you too," you mumble. Anu's grin widens and she leans closer until her lips brush against your ear. "Then allow me to protect you, $name, until my last breath." <<elseif $chp8_43Bc1 is 5>> "If you are not careful, Anu, I might start to think you like me far more than you are willing to admit," you tease with a wide smirk. Your words spill from your lips as you gaze at Anu's face. Perhaps flirting so openly with the woman who seems to hate Prince Irus is not entirely wise and yet, as you stare at Anu, you cannot bring yourself to care beyond the heat that fills you. She is beautiful, you think. There is something wild and vicious in the way that she fights and when you gaze upon her in moments of quiet like this, you cannot stop the rise of desire within you. The corners of Anu's lips lift and her smile grows in its size as her grey eyes rake over your form. There is no secret that she looks at you with unveiled hunger. It sends a shiver through you and you swallow, suddenly unable to tear your gaze away from the curve of her lips. "Who said that I am unwilling to admit it?" Anu asks. She saunters closer to where you stand and grazes the side of your cheek with her hand. "I do like you, $name. In fact, I think about you even when I should not." Your eyebrows rise against your forehead. "Oh? And when do you think about me?" Your voice is teasing and yet, your breath is lodged in the back of your throat as you stare at her in anticipation. Knowing that Anu even thinks about you and that she is returning your flirtation so openly is enough to make you dizzy with yearning. Anu's eyes find yours and her smirk only widens. "I think about you when I am training," she murmurs. "Sometimes, when I pray, your face forms in my mind." Her fingers trail down your cheek and grasp your chin. "But it is when I am alone at night that I think about you most, $name." Her thumb brushes across your lips and there is nothing gentle or tender about the way she caresses you there, but the look on her face makes all these feelings inside you swell and grow stronger with every touch. You know then that Anu wants you and to your delight, you find that her feelings are returned with an intensity that leaves you breathless. "Perhaps you can tell me what you think about in great detail," you breathe. "I am more than eager to hear them." Anu chuckles and withdraws from you. "You will have to prove yourself first, $name. I do not share my deepest thoughts with just anyone, not even if they are about you." <<elseif $chp8_43Bc1 is 6>> "I appreciate that you are concerned about me, Anu," you breathe. "But please do not think that I am useless in the face of my enemies." Anu might be stronger than you and far more capable in defeating those that stand in her way, but you are no longer the weak child you used to be. You lift your chin and meet Anu's grey eyes. Her expression shifts from surprise to confusion before her lips pull downwards into a frown. "I do not think that you are useless," Anu answers. She runs a hand through the short strands of her hair. "I only want you to be //safe//." Since fleeing, you do not think that you have ever been truly safe. There have been moments of respite, but thoughts of the Blood Guard have always settled deep in the back of your mind. You let out a breath and glance to where Anu stands. She watches you with an unwavering gaze and you find your heart lurching at the sight. "I know," you murmur. "But none of us can be safe when the war still continues." "Then that is all the more reason to accept help, $name," she replies. "There is no shame in needing someone to keep you safe." You shake your head. "I do not need someone to keep me safe, Anu. If I am hurt, it will be by my own account not because someone I care about was hurt in the process of protecting me." Your words falter. "Please, do not think that I am incapable." Anu gazes at you in silence. Her gaze sweeps over your face, taking in your expression before she turns away with a huff. You hear her mutter under her breath but whatever she says afterwards is too faint for you to hear. She must sense your stare because she lifts her eyes and turns to face you once more. You note the glint of respect in her eyes, despite the frown on her lips. "You have proved to be far more capable than I first thought," Anu states. "I... I will try to abide by your request, $name. But you must forgive me if I disobey when you are in danger." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_43Bc3]]

As your words are swallowed by the hush that falls over the room, you take a moment to study Anu's expression. Like you, she has not left her home before and you wonder if the journey has left an impression on her. When you first fled, it became a task of survival but now that you have escaped the Blood Guard, you cannot deny that venturing beyond the shores of Salt Bay were entirely bad. Anu notices your stare and she raises a dark eyebrow at you. "What is it? You look like you want to say something." Your thoughts collide and shift as you struggle to think of how to best phrase your unasked question. <<set $chp8_43Bc3 to 0>> [["Do you miss Ishari?" you ask.|chp8_43Bc4][$chp8_43Bc3 +=1]] [["You accompanied us to the Southern Islands," you state. "The journey was long but you seemed to have acclimated well."|chp8_43Bc4][$chp8_43Bc3 +=2]] [["Now that you have left Ishari, do you think you will visit the other realms?" you question.|chp8_43Bc4][$chp8_43Bc3 +=3]]

<<if $chp8_43Bc3 is 1>> "Do you miss Ishari?" you ask. Anu turns and meets your gaze, her eyebrows furrowing in thought as she regards you. You cannot help your curiosity. Like you, Anu has been confined to the same region for most of her life and you wonder if her experience will be similar to your own. "A little," Anu answers after a moment. "It is strange being away from the places I have come to know so well. Everything here feels wrong." You nod in response as understanding fills you. Salt Bay had never been a kind place to you but for most of your life, it had been your home. Leaving had been strange to you at first and learning that there were regions where worship of the Ancient Ones were welcomed had left you feeling untethered and uncertain. "It must be difficult for you to be away from your home," you murmur. Anu meets your eyes and you notice a flicker of sadness within her gaze. "I worry about Sargon and the people that I have left behind. The sooner we conclude our business here, the sooner I can return." <<elseif $chp8_43Bc3 is 2>> "You accompanied us to the Southern Islands," you state. "The journey was long but you seemed to have acclimated well." Anu's presence throughout your journey has remained the same, despite knowing that she has never left Ishari before. You wonder if she has longed to travel but could never leave. Like you, neither of you have had much opportunity to leave the confines of your home before meeting Prince Irus. "I am no stranger to long journeys, $name," Anu replies. When you offer her a questioning look, Anu lets out a breath before her expression loses some of its hardness. "In the early days of joining the warriors, I used to patrol the borders along Cyre," Anu explains. "I had to leave Urur for weeks at a time. It is not so different now." You try to imagine leaving Salt Bay when you were younger but it is difficult to fathom. Ahlf would not have let you and you do not think that you were strong enough to have survived the dangers that you have experienced since fleeing. As you turn to gaze at Anu, you cannot deny that she is far more courageous than most. <<elseif $chp8_43Bc3 is 3>> "Now that you have left Ishari, do you think you will visit the other realms?" you question. For a moment, Anu does not reply as her expression becomes thoughtful. You wonder if she has ever thought of leaving behind Ishari though from her silence, you begin to think that it is something that she has not thought about before. Anu lets out a deep breath and when she speaks, her voice is low. "No," she murmurs. "I cannot leave Ishari, even if that war ends. I vowed to serve Ehulla and..." "And?" you prompt. She meets your eyes, her expression resolute. "And I cannot leave Sargon. He is the only family I have left." Her response renders you silent. You are uncertain how to respond to Anu without sounding like you are jealous. Thinking about Ahlf, you cannot know if you would have returned to Salt Bay for him. Knowing that Anu shares a strong bond with Sargon reminds you of the aching absence in your chest for a father that you could never have had. <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_43Bc5]]

The attendant from earlier suddenly appears at the doorway. He carries a tray laden with fruits and a tall pitcher that sloshes with a fragrant drink. Anu frowns at the attendant and he falters, nearly stumbling under her glare. You cast Anu a look but she chooses to ignore you in favour of watching the attendant. He hurriedly places the tray on a nearby table before taking his leave from your room. Anu scoffs at his departure before she turns to face you. There is a glimmer of mocking in her eyes and your lips tug downwards at her expression. "Your friend //Dena// spares no expense in trying to win your favour," Anu remarks. "It seems that $Dhe is desperate for your approval." The jibe is clear in the way that Anu sneers as she speaks Dena's name. You stare at her, uncertain if she simply dislikes everyone who is not from Ishari or if Dena, like Prince Irus, has made her wary. <<set $chp8_43Bc5 to 0>> [["Dena is only being friendly," you assure. "I do not think your scepticism is warranted."|chp8_43Bc6][$chp8_43Bc5 +=1, $anuRel +=2]] [["Perhaps Dena is trying to win my favour," you respond. "But I do not think that it is a bad thing."|chp8_43Bc6][$chp8_43Bc5 +=2, $anuRel +=2]] [["Must you find fault in everything?" you ask, scowling at Anu.|chp8_43Bc6][$chp8_43Bc5 +=3, $anuRel -=2]] <<if $anuRom gte 20>>[[♡"I do not understand," you mumble. "Why would Dena want my approval?"|chp8_43Bc6][$chp8_43Bc5 +=4, $anuRel +=2, $anuRom +=5]] [[♡"Dena may try to win my approval but my interests lie elsewhere," you tease, offering her a pointed look.|chp8_43Bc6][$chp8_43Bc5 +=5, $anuRom +=5, $anuRel +=2]]<</if>>

<<if $chp8_43Bc5 is 1>> "Dena is only being friendly," you assure. "I do not think your scepticism is warranted." Your words elicit a snort from Anu and your lips pull into a frown. Her disdain is evident in the way she regards the opulence of your room before she gestures to where you stand. She laughs, the sound derisive and there is a mocking glint in her eyes that leaves you unsettled. "Do you truly believe that?" Anu asks. "Dena is no different to any other leader, $name." You frown. "What do you mean?" Her eyes harden as she regards your question. You think about Dena and $Dhis aid all those years ago when you were tormented by Emos. It is difficult to think of Dena as being anything but kind and you cannot bring yourself to accept Anu's words. "Dena is willing to ally with the prince," Anu replies. "Why would $Dhe need an alliance if $Dhe is already so wealthy? The war makes no difference to the Southern Islands." "You are wrong," you insist, trying to ingore the sliver of doubt in the back of your mind. "Dena will ally with Prince Irus because it is the right thing to do." Anu scoffs, "Believe what you want, $name. But I assure you that there is nothing altruistic about Dena's actions." <<elseif $chp8_43Bc5 is 2>> "Perhaps Dena is trying to win my favour," you respond. "But I do not think that it is a bad thing." Dena has proven to be a generous host and far more willing to listen to your companions about an alliance. Perhaps $Dhe is trying to win your favour by revealing the opulence of $Dhis home and the wealth that $Dhe possesses, but you cannot turn away the opportunity of forging and alliance with Dena. "I forget," Anu breathes. "You do not know much about politics." Your eyes narrow. "That is untrue. I am not so ignorant of how alliances work." "Then you must know that Dena is presenting a falsehood to you all," Anu retorts. "The wealth $Dhe puts on display is to garner your trust that $Dhe will help in the war efforts. But how can you be so certain that Dena will keep $Dhis word?" You stare at Anu, suddenly understanding that her suspicions are founded on fear. Thinking that Dena will betray you leaves a bitter taste in your mouth and yet, is that not what Anu has chosen to do? You cannot bring yourself to doubt those around you like Anu, though you cannot fault her for responding in this way. "I cannot tell you for certain, Anu," you answer. "But I assure you that whatever happens, we will be strong enough to overcome it." Anu frowns. "I hope that you are proven right, $name." <<elseif $chp8_43Bc5 is 3>> "Must you find fault in everything?" you ask, scowling at Anu. You cannot hide the reproach in your tone as you stare at Anu. She is always so distrustful of anyone that she does not deem worthy of her attention. It is becoming difficult to see more than a warrior with a hardened heart and tongue full of poison. Anu sneers at you. "Must you be so blind to Dena's scheming?" Your eyes narrow and you feel a sudden ache in your jaw as your teeth bite into each other. Anu smirks at your expression and there is nothing but silent goading in her yes. It is a challenge, daring you to act out in your rage but you force down your anger. Your anger is not a weapon to be wielded and you refuse to be rattled by Anu's taunting words. "Everyone schemes," you hiss. "But simply refusing to deal with Dena because of that is not going to help win the war." Anu scoffs. "Ishari has done well so far." A bitter laugh escapes you. "And tell me, do you measure your success on how many of the Blood Guard that you have felled or by the amount of innocents that are slaughtered?" "How dare you?" Anu demands. Her hands tighten into fists at her sides. "You cannot understand what it is like, $name." You scowl. "I understand enough that I know you cannot turn away allies because of pride." <<elseif $chp8_43Bc5 is 4>> "I do not understand," you mumble. "Why would Dena want my approval?" You stare at Anu in confusion. Though you have accompanied Prince Irus and you have aided him in his journey to reclaim his throne, you cannot see why you would matter to Dena. After all, gaining your favour will not hold any sway over the negotiations of an alliance. You cannot promise anything in return for you are still without your own means. Anu raises an eyebrow at you before she draws closer. "You do not know?" You shake your head, unable to trust your voice as you become aware of how closely Anu stands. The weight of her gaze rests against your face and you flush, suddenly warm and nervous. Anu's lips pull into a wide smirk and she reaches out to grasp your face in her hands. "Shall I tell you?" she questions. Your mouth goes dry. "I... I am not certain. You must be mistaken. Dena does not care for what I think about $Dhim." Anu huffs out a breath. It brushes against your cheeks and sends a shiver down your spine. You cannot breathe and you dare not speak for fear that your words will come out in a sudden rush. Anu's thumb stroke the side of your face before smiling. Her gaze is unwavering and you find yourself unable to look away. "I am not mistaken, $name," Anu murmurs. "Dena seems to value your thoughts far more than is appropriate." You blink in surprise. "You are mistaken. Dena does not see me as anything more than a //friend//." Anu chuckles and the sound is soft and lilting. "Dena looks at you with longing, $name. I must admit, I am grateful that you are blind to it. I do not think I could stand aside while $Dhe tries to secure your affections." <<elseif $chp8_43Bc5 is 5>> "Dena may try to win my approval but my interests lie elsewhere," you tease, offering her a pointed look. Your words elicit a wide grin from Anu and she draws towards you, her steps easy and her eyes glinting with hunger. You shiver as her hands slip around your back, tugging you forward so that you can feel her breath on your skin. She is warm and it sends a wave of heat through you. Your pulse throbs under your skin and your fingers twitch against her hips. When she speaks, her voice is barely above a whisper. "What are your interests?" You stare at her mouth and then the darkness in her grey eyes. She stares at you with unveiled yearning and the sight of her desire causes your heartbeat to grow thunderous under your chest. As if hearing it, Anu's hand drifts from your chin and presses against your chest. Your heartbeat quickens under her touch and you swallow as your skin prickles with heat. "Anu," you breathe. Your voice comes out pleading and soft and it only makes Anu's grin widen. Flirting with Anu is almost like stepping into an arena against a warrior who has never been defeated. And yet, you cannot stop yourself from leaning into her touch or gasping when her lips graze the side of your face. She does not kiss you - not fully and you are uncertain if you are disappointed or relieved that she spares you a moment later by drawing away. "Dena is no fool, $name," Anu murmurs. "You are a sight to behold." You tilt your head to the side. "Am I?" Your heart thumps wildly beneath your breastbone. Your blood feels fiery, burning hot and it pools low in your belly. Anu notices your stare and she closes the distance between you. Her lips press softly against your forehead before she pulls away. The look in her gaze is softer than you have ever seen her wear and it fills you with a surge of warmth. "Yes," she breathes. "I will gladly keep your interests so long as you have me." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_43Bc7]]

Your attention is drawn away from Anu when you hear the sound of footsteps outside your door. Anu glances towards the hallway and you follow her gaze, noticing the familiar armour of the Ishari warriors that accompanied you on your journey. They disappear from your sight only a moment later and when you turn to face Anu once more, you find that she wears a conflicted expression. You have not encountered other warriors who have devoted their lifes to the Ancient Ones the way Anu has and you wonder if she would have chosen the same path if her divinity was absent. Anu notices your gaze and lifts her shoulder in a half-shrug. "I told them to become familiar with any entry points," Anu explains. "It would do us no good to be caught unawares." Her dedication to being a warrior is evident and yet, she does not seem to worship Ehulla in the way that $mama or the other priestesses do. At your expression, Anu lifts an eyebrow in a silent question. <<set $chp8_43Bc7 to 0>> [["Do you enjoy being a priestess?" you ask.|chp8_43Bc8][$chp8_43Bc7 +=1]] [["I admire your skills as a warrior," you admit. "You are quite skilled for being so young."|chp8_43Bc8][$chp8_43Bc7 +=2]] [["Have you ever thought of giving up being a warrior and living in the temple with the other priestesses?" you question.|chp8_43Bc8][$chp8_43Bc7 +=3]]

<<if $chp8_43Bc7 is 1>> "Do you enjoy being a priestess?" you ask. Your words come out hesitant and soft. Speaking to Anu about her role as a priestess always fills you with apprehension. She is a priestess but she is also a woman who has served $mama for years. Neither of you have seemed to find a way to navigate around the complicated nature of what you can say and what should be kept to yourselves. Anu seems to sense your hesitation for she pauses, taking in your face before she answers. "It is something I have learnt to enjoy." "You did not always enjoy it then?" you question. A scoff escapes Anu and when she speaks, her lips pull into a smile. "No. I did not enjoy the rigid rules or the morning prayers. The temple was a comfort at first, after my parents were lost, but once the grief left so did my desire to spend my life trapped inside the temple walls." "But you are a priestess now," you reply. "You must have liked some part of the temple?" Anu shrugs. "I can wield Atses' Heart and that is what drew me back. My divinity has helped me come to appreciate the ways of the priestesses." <<elseif $chp8_43Bc7 is 2>> "I admire your skills as a warrior," you admit. "You are quite skilled for being so young." A bark of laughter escapes Anu and she turns to regard you with a mirthful expression. You are uncertain what it is about your words that amuse her so greatly. After all, you were sincere in your praise. She is stronger than most and much younger than most of the warriors you have come across in Ishari. "I am hardly a few years older than you," Anu replies, still smiling. "And I can hardly say that I am as young as some of the other warriors." "But you have accomplished so much," you respond. Anu shakes her head. "If it seems as if I have done a lot then know that it is only because of the divinity in my blood. The divine blessings have granted me an immense skill that takes years of training to attain. I am no stronger than the oldest of warriors, $name." Your expression is inscrutable as you stare at her, unable to comprehend why such an admirable thing is so hard for her to accept. Anu, however, does not appear perturbed by your silence and instead, she gazes at you with a thoughtful expression. "My skills are only as good as they keep me alive," she murmurs. "There are many who have fallen at the hands of our enemies, even those blessed by the Ancient Ones." <<elseif $chp8_43Bc7 is 3>> "Have you ever thought of giving up being a warrior and living in the temple with the other priestesses?" you question. You cannot help your curiosity. After all, you have not seen any of the other priestesses venturing into the training yards with the other warriors nor have you ever seen them wielding weapons. Anu seems neither fully committed to being a warrior nor does she seem to be the same as the other priestesses and you wonder if she would ever resign from her role on the battlefield. Anu lets out a breath at your question before she speaks. "I have thought about it. I... when I could control the divinity in my blood, the High Priestess offered me a position in the temple as one of her revered priestesses." You frown at the mention of $mama. "And what did you say?" "I could not accept," Anu answers. "My divinity is one that I am grateful for. But I was never meant to spend my life in a temple, praying that things get better. Sargon trained me since I was a girl and I will not deny that I enjoy cutting down the Blood Guard." "What happens when the war is over and there is no one left to fight?" you ask. Anu smiles but there is a sharpness to her expression. "There will always be enemies to cut down, $name. The end of the war will not change that." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_43Bc9]]

Silence falls over you both and Anu turns towards the hallway, towards the direction of the warriors from earlier. When she turns to face you once more, you realise that she is about to take her leave of you. "I had hoped to speak with the other warriors before tonight," she explains. "They are wary to be away from Ishari and I am eager to hear what they have learnt about the island." You nod. "Of course." Anu turns to leave the room, pausing to cast you a look. "You should rest while you can. I am certain things will not be so peaceful after we leave." She leaves before you can ask her what she means by her words. Alone, you let out a breath and feel the beginnings of your exhaustion slipping over your shoulders. With a glance towards the bed in the middle of the room you make your way towards it and collapse against the mattress. Fatigue pulls at your mind until you give in to the blissful slumber. [[Next.|chp8_43Ba10]]

<<if $chp8_44 is 1>> "You will offer your full support now that we have helped you?" you ask. Your words cut through the tension and draws Dena's attention towards you. The smile on $Dhis face softens, losing some of its sharpness as $Dhis green eyes meet your gaze. Resting $Dhis hands against the table, Dena glances at the rest of your companions' faces before returning to look at you. "Of course. I gave you my word, $name," $Dhe answers. "My fleet is yours. I believe an alliance between the //true// king of Cyre and the Southern Islands will be beneficial to the both of us." Prince Irus nods. "I am pleased that we are both of the same understanding on this matter. You have my assurance that your generosity will not be forgotten." At Prince Irus' words, Dena lets out a breath and you notice the glimmer of relief on $Dhis face. Though Dena has more wealth and far more bargaining power, it is evident that $Dhe seems eager to secure an alliance with Prince Irus. <<if $chp8_stay is false>>Dena's debts come to the fore of your thoughts and you find Queen Elora scowling. She glares at Dena before standing from her seat. "Have you no shame?" she demands. "Your debts are now paid. Do not pretend that you care about the war or about Prince Irus."<<else>>Knowing that Dena has promised $Dhis support is something to be celebrated but Queen Elora stands suddenly, her eyes burning with ferocity. "Have you no shame?" she demands. "Your debts are now paid. Do not pretend that you care about the war or about Prince Irus."<</if>> <<elseif $chp8_44 is 2>> "And what of the logistics of your fleet?" you question. "How many ships are you willing to lend us?" The question is an important one for Dena has been vague about the number of ships that $Dhe is willing to lend Prince Irus. Sir Oren nods at your question and you find Anu's eyes shifting to you with a look of respect. With your companions' support, you turn to face Dena and find that the smile on $Dhis face is gone. "You will have as many as I can give," $Dhe explains. "Of course I cannot promise you that all my ships will be yours to command. There is still trade to be conducted, regardless of the war." "And how many is that?" Sir Oren interrupts, turning to look at Dena. "You must understand that the Nomad Tribes have thrown in their support with the Blood Guard. We cannot win against them with a few ships." Dena nods in response. "Of course. From the ships I own, not all are equipped for war though I can assure you a fleet of around two hundred to assist. Will that be adequate?" <<if $combat gte 65>>"It seems like a fair amount," you reply. "I believe that we will be able to overcome attacks from the sea with two hundred ships."<<else>>"That seems like a fair amount," Sir Oren states. "I have come to understand that the Nomad Tribe sailors prefer lighter and smaller ships. Your offer will be enough to help us defend against attacks from the sea."<</if>> Dena begins to reply but $Dhe is quickly cut off by Queen Elora's scoff. She stands tall, her eyes narrowing as she turns to face $Dhim. The tension from earlier returns with an intensity that leaves you stiffening in your seat. You steal a look at Dena and find $Dhim frowning. "Are you bargaining with the ships you actually own or are they from the nobles you owe debts?" she asks. She grins suddenly, her teeth sharp as she stares at $Dhim. "Forgive me. Your debts are forgotten now that you are my uncle's successor." <<elseif $chp8_44 is 3>> "Good," you say. "Now we can talk about the details of the alliance." No word has been spoken about the alliance since Dena and Queen Elora's return and you are eager to discuss it now. Your words draw the eyes of Prince Irus and he looks at you with gratitude on his face. At the mention of the alliance, Dena's expression becomes serious and $Dhe turns to look at you. "Of course," $Dhe replies. "I assured you tha you will have the benefit of my fleet in the war and you shall still have it and my best warriors." "That is a generous offer," Prince Irus responds. "We would be grateful for any aid that you provide." Dena smiles at Prince Irus and the tension from earlier slowly ebbs from $Dhis face. But any further discussion is interrupted by Queen Elora's bitter laugh. <<if $chp8_stay is false>>You are reminded of Dena's deceptions and you realise that it has tainted the young queen's views on the alliance.<<else>>You are surprised by the anger of the young queen as she glares at Dena.<</if>> "And what do you ask for in return?" Queen Elora questions. "Do you intend to deceive us once again like you deceived us about your debts?" <<elseif $chp8_44 is 4>> "Will you explain your debts or shall I?" you demand. Your words spill past your lips, seeped in festering rage and poison. Dena deceived you and your companions about $Dhis true reasons for needing your aid. Glancing around the table, you find equal expressions of surprise and confusion from those who did not accompany you to meet with Sovereign Baen. As you return your attention towards Dena, you find $Dhim staring at you with $Dhis lips pressed into an uncompromising line. "What is $name talking about?" Prince Irus asks. His eyes narrow in confusion, before he glances at you. "You mentioned //debts//?" "Half the fleet Dena owns does not belong to $Dhim," Queen Elora interrupts. "A fact I learnt after we departed." The tension from earlier returns. It envelops the room in a heavy silence and you find a mixture of disbelief and fury etched in your companions' faces. No one dares to speak for a moment and you turn to look at Dena. With $Dhis head lowered, you think you spot a look of remorse on $Dhis face but it is difficult to tell when Dena refuses to meet your eyes. "You are no better than a greedy hound," Anu spits. She stands, her eyes glowing with ferocity. "How dare you deceive us?" Dena visibly swallows. For a while, $Dhe does not respond to Anu's accusation and instead turns to look at you. You frown when you find $Dhis green eyes filled with an unreadable expression and you cannot help but wonder what fills his thoughts. "I deceived you all, yes," Dena admits. "But it matters not now. You will have my aid as I promised." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_46]]

The mention of Dena's debts is enough to cause the room to erupt into a cacophony of shouting. It is difficult to know who is speaking or what they are saying, only that the anger of your companions is aimed towards Dena. For $Dhis part, Dena remains silent in the face of the rage and watches your companions with a terse expression. Dena's hands curl at $Dhis sides and he looks around the room as if trying to look for something other than your yelling companions to focus on. Your silence draws $Dhis green eyes to you and something in your expression seems to harden $Dhis resolve. Returning $Dhis attention to the rest of your companions, Dena raises $Dhis head with a slow and deliberate breath. "That is enough," $Dhe states, cutting through the barbs. "I deceived you and for that, I deserve no less than this from you." Dena pauses, the knuckles of $Dhis fingers turning white where $Dhe grips the edge of the table. "But allow me to explain. My mentor before me was killed at sea. And with her death came vultures who hoped to seek payment for her dealings that were not completed. I inherited her debts and in doing so, I paid them off with my fleet." "You do not own the fleet you promised us," Anu spits. Dena meets Anu's glare with $Dhis own. "Becoming Sovereign Baen's successor means that I am no longer indebted to the nobles around me. None will want to defy their new leader." <<set $chp8_46 to 0>> [["Saying it like that makes you sound like a tyrant," you remark.|chp8_47][$chp8_46 +=1]] [["Do you intend on treating the alliance as a debt you can pay off?" you ask.|chp8_47][$chp8_46 +=2]] [["How can you promise us a fleet that you do not own?" you demand. "Will the nobles who own them relinquish their claim?"|chp8_47][$chp8_46 +=3]]

<<if $chp8_46 is 1>> "Saying it like that makes you sound like a tyrant," you remark. Dena falters at your words and turns to look at you with a flash of hurt. You do not cower from $Dhis gaze for your words were spoken truthfully. Leaders who command with fear and intimidation never do well, even if their intentions are born from the love of their people. Despite Dena's assurances, you cannot help but be wary of $Dhis true intentions. "No," Dena murmurs. "That is not... I did not mean it like that, $name. I only want what is best for the Southern Islands and what is best for the alliance." <<elseif $chp8_46 is 2>> "Do you intend on treating the alliance as a debt you can pay off?" you ask. Your questions seems to startle Dena and $Dhe turns to look at you with wide eyes. Pretending that Dena is not someone ruled by wealth will only hamper any negotiations of the alliance and you fear that it will prove to be more than just a ploy when Prince Irus reclaims his throne. "I meant what I said," Dena replies. "The alliance will be good for our nations. It will open greater trade routes between our lands." <<elseif $chp8_46 is 3>> "How can you promise us a fleet that you do not own?" you demand. "Will the nobles who own them relinquish their claim?" You are not well-versed in the governance of the Southern Islands nor do you claim to know how fealty is earned. But from Dena's expression, you begin to understand that with $Dhis new role of leadership, Dena has seemed to have garnered absolute authority. "They will do as I command," Dena answers, wearing a frown. "And the alliance will benefit us all in the Southern Islands. Having the trust of a king is far better than being on the edge of a war." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_48]]

Prince Irus speaks then. His voice is low and there is a hardness in his tone that was absent moments ago. You turn to look at him but Prince Irus' blue eyes are on Dena. "What you propose is sounds noble," Prince Irus states. "But do you not think that you are being too generous? Certainly, you do not seek to help me in my bid to reclaim the throne without wanting something in return." Dena nods and for a moment, $Dhis lips pull into a small smile. "That is true. Tell me, Your Highness, how versed are you in the relationship between Cyre and the Southern Islands?" Prince Irus hesitates but his hesitation lasts only a moment, before he speaks. "I understand that our nations are not true allies. Trade is permitted but only to agreed cities. Tell me, is my assessment fair?" "Yes. I am impressed that you know this much," Dena answers. "What I ask is that you allow trade freely between our borders. A sharing of knowledge and culture if you will." You raise an eybrow at Dena. "Culture?" Dena nods. "Cyre has been stagnant for too long. Its beliefs and values have become corrupted by, forgive me for the offence, your late father's ideals. Rectify that by allowing more of my merchants onto your land." Prince Irus stares at Dena for a long moment before he says, "Very well." He pauses and looks around the table. "Do you need any other agreements from us?" "None, Your Highness," Dena answers with a satisfied smile. "Now that the negotiations are complete, I believe it is only prudent that we adjourn our discussions in favour of more pleasant affairs. I will have a feast prepared in honour of our alliance. Let us drink and dance in celebration of this momentous occasion." [[Next.|chp8_49]]

The sky above you is filled with stars. You stare at them, the glowing orbs that shift and glow with a fierce intensity. From the window in your room, you cast a long look towards the sea. In the darkness, it seems endless as the once blue waters are now as black as the sky. A slow breath leaves your lips and you turn away from the sight. A feast in honour of the successful alliance was arranged by Dena and you find yourself... <<set $chp8_49 to 0>> [[...a reluctant guest. The alliance does not bode well with you after learning about Dena's deception.|chp8_50][$chp8_49 +=1]] [[...excited to celebrate. There has been far too much tension in the recent weeks and you are eager to relax.|chp8_50][$chp8_49 +=2]] [[...tired of the entire affair. The journey has been long and you wish to leave the Southern Islands.|chp8_50][$chp8_49 +=3]] [[...unmoved by the celebrations. An alliance with Dena is no different to the other alliances that have been formed and you see no reason for the celebration.|chp8_50][$chp8_49 +=4]] [[...furious with Dena. It is evident that Dena has succeeded in gaining a powerful alliance with Prince Irus but you cannot easily forgive Dena's deception.|chp8_50][$chp8_49 +=5]]

<<if $chp8_49 is 1>> Apprehension fills you as you smooth your fingers over the fabric of your tunic. The material is light cotton and billows around your torso, allowing cool air to brush against your skin. You frown. It had been a gift from Dena, one of many as you glance towards the chest filled with beaded bangles and glittering jewels. You wonder if an alliance with Dena will mean that Cyre will gain more wealth than it is accustomed to. Your life in Salt Bay was never filled with much more than you needed and the finery present in the Southern Islands were absent for most who shared your home. Once more, a sliver of unease fills you and you force it down, trying to push the unanswered thoughts in the back of your mind. Dena is pleased with the alliance, but you cannot easily forget $Dhis deception. Trust can only be gained through sincere negotiations and you fear that Dena's ambitions will unmask $Dhis true intentions once the war is over. <<elseif $chp8_49 is 2>> A smile pulls at the corners of your lips as your eyes drift towards your attire. You wear a fine, cotton tunic with billowing sleeves that allow you to move freely. It had been a gift from Dena, along with a chest full of beaded bangles and bright jewels. You let out a breath, suddenly desperate for a night of festivities. You have spent the past months in search of allies and in fear of the Blood Guard and tonight, you long for nothing more than to enjoy a meal with your friends and to partake in the festivities around you. Tonight, you will forget about the implications of the alliance and what will happen when you return to Ishari. It has been far too long since you last had a moment like this, where the worries of your future were not at the forefront of your thoughts. Smoothing your fingers over your tunic, you resolve to enjoy yourself tonight, no matter what may come tomorrow. <<elseif $chp8_49 is 3>> Exhaustion pulls at your limbs as though you are tethered to anchors of a ship. Your eyes burn with fatigue and your head feels heavy as you clasp the final button of your tunic. It is made of thin cotton, though the intricate patterns along your sleeves reveal that it is far finer than the material you are accustomed to. Dena has been generous in $Dhis gifts. You glance towards a chest filled with jewels and beaded bangles, finding it difficult to think about the implications of $Dhis wealth. Despite coming to the Southern Islands with the intention of forming an alliance, you suddenly long to return to Ishari, desperate to escape the confines of the island and the festivities. You are uncertain if it is because of Dena's deception or if it is because you are desperate for a moment of peace, but remaining in the Southern Islands for one more night has left you feeling restless and weary. A sigh escapes you and you run a hand over your brow, knowing that you cannot avoid tonight's feast. <<elseif $chp8_49 is 4>> Your lips press together as your fingers smooth over the cotton material of your tunic. You had hoped that once the alliance had been secured, you could have returned to Ishari. The war is yet to be won and you do not enjoy the notion of feasting when there is much to prepare. A sigh escapes you and your eyes shift towards the chest of jewels and beaded bangles that Dena gifted you earlier. Dena's wealth seems to be how $Dhe has managed to gather much influence and you wonder if this is how an alliance with $Dhim will be. You turn away from the chest and frown. Celebrating every alliance is an unnecessary waste of resources, but the celebration of victory seems like an ideal opportunity for Dena to take advantage of the situation. You cannot afford to be complacent in any way. Not tonight and certainly not when you set sail for Ishari. <<elseif $chp8_49 is 5>> Anger churns in your gut like the raging torrents of the sea. Your jaw clenches as you clasp the fastenings of your tunic, glaring at the billowing sleeves that get caught in your hands. Dena seems eager to ply you and your companions with $Dhis wealth and you turn towards the chest filled with beaded bangles and bright jewels, scowling at $Dhis gift. Now that Dena has secured $Dhis power, $Dhis debts seem to have been forgotten though you cannot rid yourself of the fury that fills you. Dena lied to you and your companions and you cannot help but wonder what else $Dhe will lie about in future negotiations. Tonight's feast is little more than a farce. You are certain that it is nothing more than a ploy to secure the favour of your companions. Celebrating the //alliance// tonight only serves to anger you further and your teeth clash together as you suddenly long to leave Mennear. <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_51]]

Satisfied with your appearance, you step out of your room and find that the hallway is lit with flickering oil lamps. They cast deepening shadows across the walls as you make your way towards the sounds of chatter and the low hum of music. With the guidance of a few attendants, you soon find yourself approaching a stone archway. A breeze brushes against your skin, bringing with it the scent of smoke, spices and the sharpness of the sea. You swallow a breath, standing on the edge of the open garden beyond as you allow the cool air to soothe your heated skin. Knowing that you cannot stand at the threshold of the feast any longer, you push forward and step out into the garden. [[Next.|chp8_52]]

<<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "chp8_feast" loop play>>As you step into the garden, you are greeted by the sight of people talking, laughing and dancing. The air is thick with the scent of food and the tangy smell of ale. A cacophony of voices fills your ears along with soft clinking of metal plates on wooden trays and you cast your gaze over the throng of gathered guests in search of a familiar face. You quickly spot your companions in the crowd and decide to approach... <<set $chp8_52A to false>><<set $chp8_52B to false>><<set $chp8_52C to false>><<set $chp8_52D to false>><<set $chp8_52E to false>> [[...Prince Irus, who stands surrounded by a finely dressed group.|chp8_53A][$chp8_52A to true]] [[...Queen Elora, who stands apart from the crowd.|chp8_53B][$chp8_52B to true]] [[...Sir Oren, who watches over the gathering with an expression of deep focus.|chp8_53C][$chp8_52C to true]] [[...Anu, who seems preoccupied with the spread of foods and drinks.|chp8_53D][$chp8_52D to true]]

As you approach Prince Irus, you glance towards the group of finely dressed guests who linger around him. You do not recognise any of the faces before him and yet, you find them wearing similar expressions of awe. Your steps slow as you gaze at the group, uncertain how to interrupt their mindless chatter when Prince Irus looks up from them and catches your gaze. His lips pull into a wide smile and he pulls away from the crowd surrounding him to make his way towards you. "$name," he greets. "I was beginning to think you were not going to attend." You glance pointedly at the guests behind who watch him with unhidden interest. "I am surprised you noticed my absence. You seem to be quite a favourite amongst the guests." Prince Irus' eyes flash with a glimmer of amusement. <<if $irus_lock is true>>"It is you who holds my attention, Beloved. Though if you did not appear, I would have had no choice but to leave in search of you."<<else>>"They do not know me the way you do, $name. All they seem to want to discuss is my life in Cyre."<</if>> Glancing behind him, you catch glimpses of curiosity and from others, disappointment. Prince Irus follows your gaze before he bows deeply to the guests, wearing a placating smile that makes him appear more charming than ought to be possible. "Forgive me," he apologises. "But I am needed elsewhere." Turning away from the sounds of the disappointed sighs, Prince Irus guides you away from the crowd and leads you towards the edge of the garden. It is quieter here and you notice the thick brush that offers you privacy from the rest of the guests. Prince Irus sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I did not imagine that I would be sought out tonight." He smiles, glancing at you. "I suppose I should thank you for saving me." <<set $chp8_53A to 0>> [["I would expect nothing less from a prince," you respond with a grin. "My friendship does come with a price."|chp8_53A1][$chp8_53A +=1, $irusRel +=2]] [["You need not thank me," you answer. "I am happy to rescue you whenever you need my aid."|chp8_53A1][$chp8_53A +=2, $irusRel +=2]] [["Your duties as a prince mean that you will have to entertain guests," you mutter. "Hiding from them will do you no good especially if you are to be king."|chp8_53A1][$chp8_53A +=3, $irusRel -=2]] <<if $irus_lock is true>>[[♡"Oh," you mumble, suddenly flustered. "You do not need to thank me, Irus."|chp8_53A1][$chp8_53A +=4, $irusRel +=2, $irusRom +=5]] [[♡"I can think of many ways you could thank me," you tease.|chp8_53A1][$chp8_53A +=5, $irusRel +=2, $irusRom +=5]]<</if>>

Queen Elora stands alone as you approach her. Her expression is contemplative and she ignores the attendants who approach her with trays laden with goblets of aromatic wines. You hesitate, noting the quietness surrounding her. She has not spoken much since returning from meeting with her uncle and you are uncertain if it is because of Dena's deception, speaking to her uncle or a combination of the both. She turns, her dark eyes catching sight of you before her lips pull into a small smile. Your apprehension falls away and you quickly close the distance between you and the young queen. A saccharine scent burns your nose and you look up, noting the arching branches of a tall tree. It bears yellow fruits that seem ready to burst. "Miracle Orant," Queen Elora murmurs, following your gaze. "They are my mother's favourite." "I have never seen them before," you respond. She nods. "You will not have. They only grow in the Southern Islands. My grandmother tried planting the seeds in Vinia but they withered away." Speaking about her grandmother seems to ease the unspoken burden Queen Elora holds. She releases a breath and turns to gaze at you with a warm smile. There is a gentleness in her dark eyes and when she speaks, her voice is soft as if she intends her words for your ears only. "I did not expect anyone to have sought me out," she states. "The attendants have not been subtle in their attempts to ply me with wine so that I may partake in the //revelry//." <<set $chp8_53B to 0>> [["I wanted to speak to you," you respond, offering her a kind smile.|chp8_53B1][$chp8_53B +=1, $eloraRel +=2]] [["If I were you, I would ask for the best wine the island has," you laugh.|chp8_53B1][$chp8_53B +=2, $eloraRel +=2]] [["Perhaps they are only being polite," you retort. "You have been quite sullen and withdrawn; behaviour unbecoming of a queen."|chp8_53B1][$chp8_53B +=3, $eloraRel -=2]] <<if $elora_lock is true>>[[♡"I enjoy spending time with you," you breathe. "Whether you are drunk on wine or otherwise."|chp8_53B1][$chp8_53B +=4, $eloraRel +=2, $eloraRom +=5]] [[♡"Not even a war could keep me away from you," you tease.|chp8_53B1][$chp8_53B +=5, $eloraRel +=2, $eloraRom +=5]]<</if>>

You find Sir Oren standing a few paces away from the loudness of the cheer and festivities. He stands silent, ignoring the pointed looks from those around him and dons his full uniform as though on duty. As you approach Sir Oren, he turns and his eyes meet yours. The severe expression on his face eases and he offers you a smile that warms his hazel eyes. "$name," he greets. "Is there something you needed?" Shaking your head, you move to stand beside Sir Oren. "You seem to be on duty tonight." He opens his mouth before shaking his head and casts you a sheepish look. "I am not on duty by Her Majesty's orders but after everything that has happened, I took it upon myself to keep a watch over the gathering tonight." <<set $chp8_53C to 0>> [["Everyone needs to rest," you murmur. "Even you, Sir Oren."|chp8_53C1][$chp8_53C +=1, $orenRel +=2]] [["The only thing to be wary of are the drunken dancers tonight," you laugh.|chp8_53C1][$chp8_53C +=2, $orenRel +=2]] [["That is sensible," you mock. "Given that you allowed the Blood Guard in Vinia, it is good to see that you are ever vigilant."|chp8_53C1][$chp8_53C +=3, $orenRel -=2]] [[♡"You care about everyone so deeply," you breathe. "It is admirable."|chp8_53C1][$chp8_53C +=4, $orenRel +=2, $orenRom +=5]] [[♡"Come now, Captain," you tease. "Even you must take a night off for more pleasurable activities."|chp8_53C1][$chp8_53C +=5, $orenRom +=5, $orenRel +=2]]

Your eyes settle on Anu as you approach her. Nearing her, you take a moment to examine her appearance. She wears loose robes and around her neck is a golden necklace, similar to the one that belonged to $mama. Anu barely looks up but you catch her grey eyes darting towards you. A small huff escapes her lips and she returns her attention to the goblets laid out before her. "Have you come to partake in the wines and food?" she asks. You move to stand beside her and gaze down at the table, heavily laden with platters of bread and meats. One one side, you find tall pitchers reeking of bitter ales and sour wines and on the other, there are smaller bowls heaped with tangy fruits that glisten under the lanterns. Gazing at Anu, you find her wearing a scowl despite the lavish spread. You frown at her in confusion. "You sound upset," you remark. Anu snatches a goblet from the table and mutters under her breath, too low for you to hear, before she speaks. "Look at the wealth on display, $name. If only Ishari had half of this, we could better provide for those without homes and families." You exhale and gaze at the table once more. It is true that you have seen vast amounts of wealth throughout your journey - in Vinia, even those like your grandmother and Zikar have managed to earn a living and here in Mennear, Dena's debts seem to have had little influence on the feast laid out before you. <<set $chp8_53D to 0>> [["You care about the people in Ishari," you murmur. "It is admirable that you do."|chp8_53D1][$chp8_53D +=1, $anuRel +=5]] [["The war has influenced much in Ishari," you explain. "It will take time before anyone will be able to feast like this again."|chp8_53D1][$chp8_53D +=2, $anuRel +=5]] [["Are you truly complaining about the lack of grand feasts?" you huff. "It seems that all your wealth sits with Princess Lamahu."|chp8_53D1][$chp8_53D +=3, $anuRel -=2]] [[♡"I am sorry, Anu," you breathe, your heart constricting at the pain etched on her face.|chp8_53D1][$chp8_53D +=4, $anuRel +=5, $anuRom +=5]] [[♡"They will be able to feast once more," you reply, grinning at her. "Your strength and courage will help win the war."|chp8_53D1][$chp8_53D +=5, $anuRel +=5, $anuRom +=5]]

<<if $chp8_53A is 1>> "I would expect nothing less from a prince," you respond with a grin. "My friendship does come with a price." Your jest does not go unnoticed by Prince Irus and you watch as his blue eyes glimmer with mirth. As you gaze at him, you realise that the tension from the earlier meeting with Dena has eased from his face. Smiling at you, it is almost easy to believe that Prince Irus has always been this //happy//. You tilt your head at him as he lowers his voice, leaning closer as though he wishes to share a secret with you. "I must admit that your words wound me, $name," he murmurs, but the smile on his lips says differently. "I had hoped that by now, you would have come to depend on my friendship as much as I have come to depend on yours." A laugh escapes you and you nudge his shoulder. "Did you truly think I befriended you because I enjoyed being around you?" Prince Irus' smile softens and he glances away from you for a moment. He still wears a mirthful expression but peering closer, you notice the way he keeps glancing over at you. You arch an eyebrow in a silent question and Prince Irus responds with another smile. His eyes fill with sudden warmth and you swallow, suddenly overcome with the knowledge that he is your friend. "When this is all over, I give you my word that you will have whatever you want," he states. "You have helped me more than anyone, $name, and for that I am truly grateful." You smile. "It was only a jest, Irus." He offers you another smile. "I know. But my offer stands, regardless of what you meant." <<elseif $chp8_53A is 2>> "You need not thank me," you answer. "I am happy to rescue you whenever you need my aid." Your thoughts fill with the memories of fleeing with Prince Irus. It has been months since you first set off together and yet, the threat of the Blood Guard and meeting your companions has seemed to have made the months feel like years. Prince Irus has become a constant presence in your life and you know that you would help him whenever he needed it. Prince Irus' blue eyes soften and he reaches out to grip your shoulder in a gentle grasp. His fingers are warm and they squeeze slightly, a silent gesture of gratitude for your words. You gaze at Prince Irus, noticing the warmth in his expression and you smile, suddenly filled with the knowledge that he feels the same towards you. "I appreciate your words more than you know, $name," he murmurs. He releases his hold on you and lets out a breath. "When my uncle exiled me, I did not think that I would ever find anyone willing to aid me." "But you know now that is not true," you reply. Prince Irus grins as he glances at you. "I know that //now// but when I first came to Salt Bay, I had expected your father to turn me away." "He knew you were coming to him," you respond. "Did you truly think that he would turn you away?" "What did he have to gain by helping me?" Prince Irus asks. He shakes his head. "I did not expect to have his aid, or //yours//, $name. But I am grateful that you joined me and helped me for this long." <<elseif $chp8_53A is 3>> "Your duties as a prince mean that you will have to entertain guests," you mutter. "Hiding from them will do you no good especially if you are to be king." Your words come out sharper than you intended. But you cannot bring yourself to soothe Prince Irus, not when the war looms closer with each day that passes. Complaining about the guests and those who seek to have an audience with him will not endear him to any of the courtiers in Cyre, not when he is trying to reclaim the throne and inherit his father's role as king. Prince Irus' brows furrow and he casts you a sidelong glance. "That was not my intention. I merely needed a moment away from them." You raise an eyebrow. "You are to be king. There is no need for you to ask them for permission." He frowns once more and turns his blue eyes away from you. Neither of you speak and you wonder if Prince Irus is considering your words. After all, once the war is over, he will have to prove himself to be a worthy king, lest someone with a grudge choose to unseat him from the throne. "This is still unfamiliar to me," Prince Irus murmurs. "I am trying to be the type of leader that others expect but it is difficult when I do not know what leader that is." Your eyes narrow as you look at him. "You knew this would not be an easy task. Do not wonder about the actions you take and simply act. It is the only way you will reclaim your throne." <<elseif $chp8_53A is 4>> "Oh," you mumble, suddenly flustered. "You do not need to thank me, Irus." Your skin warms and you suddenly hate how loudly your heart beats under your chest. Prince Irus stares at you, his blue eyes crinkling with amusement as he leans closer. This close, you can feel the heat of his breath against your face and smell the perfumed scent of his tunic. He reaches out, grasping your chin in his hand and you let out a sharp breath when his fingers graze against your skin. "You are far too humble," he breathes. "Asking for repayment is nothing to be flustered about, Beloved." His voice sounds like it carries the weight of the entire world behind every word. You swallow thickly but you don't move away from his touch. Prince Irus's fingertips press lightly into your jawbone while his other hand traces the shape of your cheek. You close your eyes and lean into his touch, reveling in the sensation of him holding you so tenderly. When your eyelids finally open again, you are met with Prince Irus' blue eyes. Your throat constricts, and you can only watch Prince Irus's lips curl up into a soft smile. He leans even closer until you can make out the tiny scattering of freckles against his cheeks and feel the scrape of his stubble aginst your skin. His lips press against your ear. "Beloved, are you well? You seem to have lost your voice." His teasing only elicits a soft sound from you and you tug away, stumbling slightly when his fingers hold onto your cheek steadily. Prince Irus chuckles at your appearance but before you can respond, he reaches out and drags your face towards his. Leaning closer, he presses a soft kiss against your forehead before he pulls away. "A kiss as a means of gratitude," he explains, smirking. "However, do not consider my debt repaid. I intend on expressing my gratitude thoroughly." <<elseif $chp8_53A is 5>> "I can think of many ways you could thank me," you tease. His eyes widen in delight and he laughs before grabbing your hand in both of his. His thumb strokes over the back of your hand and you realise with a start that the pads of his fingers have become rough with callouses. You look up from your clasped hands when Prince Irus draws closer to you, his lips dipping to press against the side of your face. "I would be happy to thank you in any manner you deem fit," he breathes. "I am yours for as long as you will have me." You begin to respond, but your voice is swallowed by a sharp breath. Prince Irus' lowers his mouth, placing chaste kisses along your neck and yet, they fill you with a searing heat. You bite down on your bottom lip, trying to contain yourself as his hot breath tickles across the sensitive skin. You feel him suck lightly at the spot, leaving a burning trail of fire behind, but still you cannot bring yourself to let go. You want to savour this moment for eternity. All too soon, Prince Irus pulls away and you let out a grumble. The sound causes Prince Irus to chuckle and you shiver as the reverberations press into your palms where you grip him. A smirk spreads across his features as you look at him and you wonder if he knows how handsome he is, even through the haze of desire swirling about within you. "Was that enough of my expression of gratitude?" he asks. Your heart gallops under your chest and your stomach swirls with desire. Swallowing, you struggle to find your composure when all you can seem to do is stare at Prince Irus with a sudden yearning. "I expect more than a few pecks," you murmur. Prince Irus smirks and his thumb runs across your lower lip. "Then more you shall have." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_53A2]]

There is a burst of laughter nearby and your eyes are drawn towards the sound. You find the source in Dena, who stands in front of a group of the same guests that had milled around Prince Irus only moments earlier. Prince Irus follows your gaze and frowns before turning to face you once more. "Dena seems greatly pleased with the alliance," he remarks. You nod, noting the wide smile that Dena offers $Dhis guests and then raise an eyebrow at Prince Irus. "And you? Are you pleased about the alliance?" Your question seems to catch Prince Irus by surprise and he opens his mouth as if to reply before closing it again. Lifting his hand, he runs it through his blond hair, causing the strands that had been smoothed back to fall over his forehead once more. "I am," he answers. Pausing, he turns to look at you and smiles, but his eyes are filled with concern. "Ellie seems to think that there is something untoward about Dena. I cannot say that I agree and yet..." <<set $chp8_53A2 to 0>> [["And yet you are still worried about Dena's intentions?" you ask.|chp8_53A3][$chp8_53A2 +=1]] [["Dena will honour the alliance," you reply. "I am certain of it."|chp8_53A3][$chp8_53A2 +=2]] [["The only thing that matters is that you have gained a powerful ally," you respond. "You need ships and warriors to defeat your uncle and this is the best way to achieve that."|chp8_53A3][$chp8_53A2 +=3]]

<<if $chp8_53A2 is 1>> "And yet you are still worried about Dena's intentions?" you ask. Prince Irus nods and his lips press together. You follow Prince Irus' gaze towards Dena once more. Basking in the admiration of $Dhis guests, Dena appears to be at ease like $Dhe did when you first saw $Dhim at the harbour. The knowledge of $Dhis debts swirl in your mind and you steal a furtive glance at Prince Irus. "You recall $Dhis debts as well," Prince Irus states. He frowns before pulling his eyes away from Dena. "I will admit that I cannot be particularly fussy about the allies I keep. Winning the war will require resources that I have yet to possess on my own." "Dena deceived all of us," you reply. "It is not odd to doubt $Dhis sincerity in all of this." Prince Irus sighs, "This is all becoming far more complicated than I thought it would be." You nod, uncertain what you could say to ease his concern for as you watch Dena from afar, you cannot deny that you too are worried about what the alliance with your old companion will entail. <<elseif $chp8_53A2 is 2>> "Dena will honour the alliance," you reply. "I am certain of it." You say it with conviction and offer Prince Irus a reassuring smile. He lets out a deep breath and nods, his blue eyes filling with a look of gratitude. You cast a glance at Dena and wonder if the same $Dgender from your childhood still exists in the person you see now standing before the gathered guests. "I hope that is true, $name," Prince Irus murmurs. "I am not foolish enough to believe that I can defeat my uncle alone but I question whether Dena's role in the alliance is as sincere as $Dhe purports it to be." "Dena helped me when I was still in Salt Bay," you answer. "I am certain that $Dhe still wants to help others, even if $Dhis life is no longer the same as it used to be." Prince Irus hums under his breath and leans against a nearby tree. His eyes lazily shift to meet yours and you catch a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I will choose to trust your belief in Dena and hope that $Dhe proves to be a worthy ally." <<elseif $chp8_53A2 is 3>> "The only thing that matters is that you have gained a powerful ally," you respond. "You need ships and warriors to defeat your uncle and this is the best way to achieve that." Your words are nothing but truthful but from the way Prince Irus frowns, you know that what you have said is not quite enough to soothe his anxiousness. He exhales deeply and leans back on his feet, the blue of his eyes darkening as he continues to gaze at Dena from afar. You turn to look at Dena and catch sight of your old companion laughing with his guests. "I must admit, knowing that my success depends on how powerful my allies are does not bode well with me," Prince Irus murmurs. Since fleeing, you have become increasingly aware that Prince Irus' goal of reclaiming the throne rests on his ability to defeat his uncle and the force of the Blood Guard. You are not ignorant of the concessions that you must make in order to gain allies and subsequently, their support. Warriors and battles take resources that Prince Irus does not possess on his own. Your allies have each made their demands of Prince Irus and there has been little choice but to agree. Without their aid, you know that defeating Virion will be impossible. And yet, as you glance at Prince Irus, you understand his unease at making alliances with those he does not truly trust. "It is the only way to win the war," you respond. Prince Irus nods. "Yes. I only wish that it was not true." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_53A4]]

Your conversation is soon swallowed by the sound of drumbeats, followed by the beginning of a low melody. You follow the sound towards its source and find a group of people, gathered in the middle of the open garden as they play their wooden instruments. Slowly, as though drawn towards the music, guests begin to take to the garden as they move languidly as they dance. Some dance with intricate steps, swirling around until all you can see is the blinding colours of their attire while there are those who seem to dance together in pairs. It is nothing like the dances you have seen before, for the expressions on the faces of the dancers are freer than your own, filled with joy and free of any turmoil. Your attention is stolen away when you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder. Turning, you find Prince Irus watching you with a small smile. "Have you ever danced like this before?" he asks. <<set $chp8_53A4 to 0>><<set $dance_level to 0>> [["No," you confess. "I never had much opportunity to dance."|chp8_53A5][$chp8_53A4 +=1, $dance_level +=1]] [["I tried dancing once when I was younger," you admit. "But I must admit that I am not very good at it."|chp8_53A5][$chp8_53A4 +=2, $dance_level +=2]] [["A few times a year, there would be music and dancing in Salt Bay," you reply. "I was never allowed to go but I used to dance from afar."|chp8_53A5][$chp8_53A4 +=3, $dance_level +=3]]

<<if $chp8_53A4 is 1>> "No," you confess. "I never had much opportunity to dance." Your voice comes out hollow and you frown. Dancing had never been something you had ever enjoyed, not when Ahlf forbid you from venturing into the streets without him to accompany you. Your eyes stray towards the dancing bodies before you and you are uncertain if it is envy or longing that tightens around your chest. Prince Irus smiles softly. "Then, would you like to dance with me?" You blink, startled by his question and stare at him. "But I do not know how to dance." He shrugs. "It matters not. I will show you how." He extends his hand out to you and you stare at it, his palm outstretched and his fingers gleaming under the glowing lanterns. You swallow and glance towards the crowd of dancing guests once more. <<elseif $chp8_53A4 is 2>> "I tried dancing once when I was younger," you admit. "But I must admit that I am not very good at it." It had been a humiliating feat and you are only grateful that there had been no one around to watch you flail as you tripped over your feet. Dancing, you quickly learnt was something that could not be taught from reading the old books your father kept stowed away. You had watched those from the other homes dancing during festivities, but you could do no more than watch. Prince Irus grins at you, wearing a playful expression. "Perhaps you will fare better with a partner?" You turn to stare at him in surprise. "You want to dance with me?" Prince Irus reaches out, his palm facing upwards as he smiles at you. "I do. What do you say, $name?" <<elseif $chp8_53A4 is 3>> "A few times a year, there would be music and dancing in Salt Bay," you reply. "I was never allowed to go but I used to dance from afar." You recall the nights when Ahlf would grumble about the music and the noise, but he never stopped you from stepping out of the door as you watched the festivities from afar. There had been dancing and laughter - of which you could not be a part of and yet, you had followed the music and the drumbeats as best as you could as you taught yourself to dance. Prince Irus tilts his head at you with a wide smile. "Then you should have no reason to deny me a dance." Your eyes widen in surprise. "You are asking me to dance with you?" He nods. "Yes, I would quite enjoy it." He extends his hand towards you with a smile. "Dance with me, $name." <</if>> You stare at his palm and then raise your eyes to meet his gaze. There is a glimmer of mirth in his eyes and beyond it, you see a sliver of warmth there. Swallowing, you... [[...slip your hand against his palm.|chp8_53A5a]] [[...shake your head in refusal.|chp8_53A5b]]

As your fingers brush against Prince Irus' palm, he tightens his fingers around your own and he offers you a warm smile. Drawing you closer, he leads you away from where you stand and towards the throng of dancing guests. The melody is a loud and ferocious thing that causes your heartbeat to thud loudly in your chest as you follow Prince Irus deeper into the crowd. When he has found you a spot free from jabbing elbows and stumbling dancers, he turns to look at you. In the light, his eyes seem to gleam with an otherworldly brightness and you suddenly realise why the guests stared at him in awe. He grips your wrists in his palms and draws you closer until you can feel the heat of his body. "Shall we dance, <<if $irus_lock is true>>Beloved<<else>>$name<</if>>?" <<set $chp8_53A5a to 0>> [["Yes," you breathe, following his lead.|chp8_53A5a1][$chp8_53A5a +=1]] [["We shall," you murmur, as you draw him to follow your steps.|chp8_53A5a1][$chp8_53A5a +=2]]

"I appreciate the offer," you murmur. "But I cannot accept." You glance at the crowded dancers and shudder at the notion of being caught desperately in their grasp. Turning away, you steal a glance at Prince Irus but you find him only smiling in understanding at you. "Of course, $name," he responds. <<if $irus_lock is true>>"Perhaps we could spend a moment of quiet then, away from the rest of the crowds?" [[You join Prince Irus as he leads you away from the gazes of the guests around you.|chp8_53A5a2]] [["Perhaps another night," you explain. "It is late and I wish to retire to my room."|chp8_53A_earlyend]]<<else>>"I thank you then for the conversation, $name. I will take my leave and bid you a good night." He bows slightly before turning away and making his way away from the crowded garden. Still warm and sweaty, you find yourself weighing heavily with tiredness and turn away from the garden. Suddenly, you would like nothing more than to find sleep. [[Next.|chp8_end]]<</if>>

<<if $chp8_53A5a is 1>> Prince Irus' fingers slip over your shoulders and you feel the warmth of his skin pressing through your tunic sleeves. He offers you a smile and you swallow a breath as the humidity of the crowd presses against your skin. The music begins to grow louder and with it, the guests around you begin to swirl around, their movements both graceful and untamed. Without warning, Prince Irus drags you along with him, his feet carrying you through the dance with ease. Your eyes widen in surprise and your fingers clutch at his forearms at the sudden movement. Around you, the music swells and you <<if $dance_level is 1>>struggle to keep your footing<<elseif $dance_level is 2>>manage to keep upright<<elseif $dance_level is 3>>easily follow Prince Irus' steps<</if>>. He leans closer towards you and you catch a gleam of amusement in his eyes. <<if $dance_level lte 2>>"Do not worry. You are doing fine."<<else>>"You are a far better dance partner than I imagined."<</if>> As the music gains momentum, Prince Irus' movements synchronise seamlessly with yours. The garden transforms into a tapestry of twirls, spins, and graceful dips. The air is alive with laughter and the rustle of flowing gowns and swirling fabrics. The lanterns glimmer above, casting a shimmering glow on the revelry around you and you suddenly find yourself dizzy with breathlessness. Prince Irus gazes at you then, and you find yourself growing warmer from the heat and the quickening steps of the dance. He twirls you around and you are pulled close to his chest, your arms brushing against each other while your lips brush against his ear. The scent of citrus and spice wafts up and you breathe harder. The music builds to a deafening crescendo and Prince Irus suddenly pulls you flush against him, his eyes alight with the excitement around you. <<elseif $chp8_53A5a is 2>> You tug Prince Irus closer to you as the music becomes more frantic with each drumbeat. He raises his eyebrows in surprise when you pull him along to the melody. Your fingers grip his shoulders tightly as you <<if $dance_level is 1>>stumble for a moment before finding your footing<<elseif $dance_level is 2>>manage to dance without falling over your feet<<elseif $dance_level is 3>>guide Prince Irus into an intricate dance<</if>>. He grins widely at you and leans closer. You can smell the scent of citrus and wine on his breath and feel the way his arms tighten around your waist. "It has been a while since I last danced like this," he murmurs. <<if $irus_lock is true>>His lips brush against the edge of your jaw and a shiver runs down your spine at the contact. "And yet, somehow, it is as if my body was never meant for another."<<else>>"Thank you for dancing with me, $name."<</if>> As the music grows to a frantic rhythm, you grip Prince Irus by the hand, tugging him into the heart of the garden. His eyebrows raise up in surprise, a glint of excitement in his gaze as you pull him along with the pulsating melody. For a moment, you both teeter on the edge of the dance, suddenly staring at each other in breathlessness. For a brief moment, the world around you blurs and the garden becomes a myriad of colours. You swirl around faster and faster until you are dizzy with exhilaration. As the music draws to an end, you and Prince Irus find yourselves standing in the middle of the garden, panting and warm. His wide grin reflects the joyous energy in the air. <</if>> "Thank you for the dance," he breathes. You bow slightly, wearing a matching smile. "It was my pleasure." He stares at you for a moment longer before casting a look beyond your shoulder. <<if $irus_lock is true>>"Perhaps we could use a moment of quiet after that dance. Would you join me for a while, $name?" [[You join Prince Irus as he leads you away from the gazes of the guests around you.|chp8_53A5a2]] [["Perhaps another night," you explain. "It is late and I wish to retire to my room."|chp8_53A_earlyend]]<<else>>"I will take my leave of you, $name. Thank you again for the lovely dance. I bid you a good night." He bows slightly before turning away and making his way away from the crowded garden. Still warm and sweaty, you find yourself weighing heavily with tiredness and turn away from the garden. Suddenly, you would like nothing more than to find sleep. [[Next.|chp8_end]]<</if>>

Prince Irus' fingers are warm against yours and he squeezes your hand gently as he draws you closer to his side. You can hear his sharp breaths and feel the heat of his form as you navigate through the garden, following a narrow pathway that leads you towards a low, stone wall that overlooks the dark sea beyond. He does not speak as you walk, but he doesn't need to. His presence is enough - his eyes are soft blue flecks and his smile is soft. The moon is a half-circle in the sky. Its silver light reflects in the water, bathing everything in an ethereal glow. Drawing to a stop, Prince Irus draws your clasped hands to his lips and presses a faint kiss along your knuckles. Prince Irus leans closer, pulling you into him until there is no space between your bodies anymore. You do not know where he ends and you begin, whether it is his strength or your courage that makes you sink into his warm embrace. His lips brush against your ear and he murmurs something too soft for you to hear. Drawing back, you turn to stare at him and note the way his blue eyes slip over your features before settling on your lips. <<set $chp8_53A5a2 to 0>> [[Prince Irus leans closer and captures your mouth with his.|chp8_53A5a3][$chp8_53A5a2 +=1, $irusRom +=5]] [[You lurch forward, suddenly seeking his lips with your own.|chp8_53A5a3][$chp8_53A5a2 +=2, $irusRom +=5]] [["You are mesmerising," you murmur, taking in his blue eyes.|chp8_53A5a3][$chp8_53A5a2 +=3, $irusRom +=5]] [[You gasp in surprise when Prince Irus buries his face into your neck, sagging against you.|chp8_53A5a3][$chp8_53A5a2 +=4, $irusRom +=5]] [[Your fingers splay against his stubbled cheeks, tracing patterns against his skin.|chp8_53A5a3][$chp8_53A5a2 +=5, $irusRom +=5]]

"Perhaps another night," you explain. "It is late and I wish to retire to my room." Prince Irus' smile falters for a moment but it is quickly replaced with a gentle smile. He reaches out and brushes his fingers against the side of your face, drawing you closer as he exhales against your skin. You feel his breath tickling against your ear and you bite back the sound of laughter as he draws away. "Of course, Beloved," he murmurs. Pressing a soft kiss against your temple, he draws back. "It has been a long day and you deserve rest. I will see you in the morning." You nod with a grateful smile. "Yes. Good night, Irus." Prince Irus lingers, smiling. "Good night to you, Beloved." [[Next.|chp8_end]]

<center>That's the end of the public demo. Please note that the demo will no longer be updated for the public. Further chapters will be released to my Patrons until the full game is completed. The full game will be available for purchase on Steam and itch.io when it is completed. Thank you for your support and for playing!</center>

<<if $chp8_53A5a2 is 1>> There is nothing gentle about his kisses, but they are tender all the same. The gentleness of his hands on your face and neck sends a shudder down your spine. You pull his body impossibly closer to yours, feeling the insistent press of his heated mouth against yours as your fingers tangle in his hair. His tongue darts across your lips as he kisses a trail from your lips down to your collarbone and it makes you shudder with want as his lips linger against the sensitive skin against your neck. Prince Irus' teeth graze against your skin and you gasp, shivering with sudden need as your fingers tighten against the back of his head. "Irus," you breathe. Your voice is almost desperate in its pleading and you flush when he draws away, his lips wet and swollen from his hungry kisses. Pressing you against the stone wall, Prince Irus holds you firmly against his chest. His fingers drift from your face to you neck before they slip lower to grasp at your hips. Your breath catches in your throat as his grip tightens around your hips and he lowers his lips to your ear. Ever so gently, he kisses the side of your neck, leaning to nibble at your earlobe. Heat spreads through your stomach as you feel yourself being pulled even closer to him. His body presses against yours until the only parts of you that are separated are where your clothes meet. He kisses you again, his mouth slanting over yours as his tongue slips between your parted lips. You taste wine on his tongue and feel a thread of desire tug at your insides. Slowly, Prince Irus deepens the kiss, his grip on you tightening as he leans even closer. The kiss threatens to become more than just a kiss but before you can question it, Prince Irus pulls back. His skin is flushed and his chest rises and falls as he pants. Leaning his forehead against yours, his blue eyes lift up to search yours. <<elseif $chp8_53A5a2 is 2>> You can no longer wait, you think as you surge forward and draw his face towards yours. Prince Irus does not hesitate and accepts your kiss by slipping his arms around your waist. Your lips part against each other and you taste the slip of his tongue as he presses you against the stone wall. A gasp escapes you at the desire that jolts through your body but your grip on his hair tightens; your fingers tangling in the soft strands. His hands come up to cup your cheeks, thumbs brushing against your skin as he deepens the kiss. Heat pools low in your belly, burning like a bonfire that promises to burn for eternity. Prince Irus draws back and you almost reach out to drag him back towards you, desperate to taste him once more but he grasps your reaching fingers and presses gentle kisses along your fingers. A chuckle rumbles through his chest and you smile, letting go of his hair so your arms wrap around him again. "You are a magnificent sight, Beloved," he breathes. You grin at him, nipping at his lower lip. "Tell me more." Prince Irus laughs and pushes against you once more. His breath is warm against your face and any thought you had disappears as he presses his mouth against yours once more. He kisses you languidly as if there is all the time in the world to kiss you. His lips are warm and soft and it feels like an eternity before his tongue darts out to slip between your lips. It tickles pleasantly when he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. You hum in pleasure and let out a soft sigh when he pulls back from you once more, eyes gleaming with mischief. You are certain that your eyes are just as heavy-lidded as his and you let out a breath when he leans his forehead against yours. <<elseif $chp8_53A5a2 is 3>> "You are mesmerising," you murmur, taking in his blue eyes. The words slip unbidden from your lips as you gaze at him. He is a magnificent sight; bathed in the silvery glow of the moonlight. The sharp angles of his jaw are softened by the smile that curves along his lips as you find yourself unable to pull your eyes away. "As are you, Beloved," he breathes. Reaching out, his fingers curl around your jaw, drawing your eyes to meet his. "You are a sight I could never tire of looking upon." His breath presses against your face as his words are whispered softly. You swallow, suddenly filled with warmth as you stare at him, taking in the gentleness of his eyes as he gazes at you. Your heartbeat quickens as Prince Irus' thumb strokes your cheek, a delicate dance across your skin that elicits a sharp breath from your lips. You lean into his touch, as though he is an anchor that keeps you from unmooring against a rough sea. Your chest swells until you are certain that he can hear your thundering heartbeat and feel the way your skin warms under his touch. Suddenly, you want this moment to last for all eternity - unbothered by everything around you for Prince Irus is the only person who matters. A breath escapes Prince Irus and he leans closer. Your eyes catch sight of the rough stubble against his cheeks and feel the scrape of it against your skin as he presses his forehead against yours. <<elseif $chp8_53A5a2 is 4>> For a moment, you stand there in startled surprise before you reach out to slip your arms around Prince Irus. His breath tickles the skin on your neck and you shiver when you feel the scrape of his stubble against you. He is warm and solid in your hold as he holds you closer. Neither of you speak. There is no need to when you can feel his warmth seep into your skin and smell the faint trace of citrus on his tunic. Your breath catches in the back of your throat as Prince Irus' fingers curl around the back of your neck. Pressing his face deeper against the hollow of your throat, you feel the dart of his tongue against your skin. "Irus," you mumble, shivering against his heated kiss. He draws away to meet your eyes. His gaze is heavy with heady desire and it it is enough to cause your stomach to tighten in anticipation. Your hands hang around his shoulders, fearing that if you let go, it will end this moment. His fingers graze the sides of your face and you shiver when he leans closer and presses a soft kiss against your forehead. "You are magnificent under the moonlight," he murmurs. "I am almost remiss to let you go." His words cause your breathing to quicken and you swallow, suddenly warming at the notion of remaining in his embrace. There is little to disturb you here, away from the rest of the revelry of the feast and dancing. It is only you and Prince Irus and in that moment, it is enough. "You need not let me go," you respond. Your voice is hushed as though you are whispering a secret to him. "I am yours, Irus." He stares at you with affection and it fills you with a rush of warmth that burns your skin. Prince Irus leans forward, his grip steady against your shoulders as he presses his forehead against yours. Your eyes meet his and you see the sincerity of his emotions for you in them. <<elseif $chp8_53A5a2 is 5>> Prince Irus' once smooth skin is now rough under your fingers. You hum under your breath as you reach out and press your hands against either side of his face. A slight smile pulls at the corner of Prince Irus' lips and he gazes at you with a flicker of hunger. The sight is enough to make your stomach coil with heat and you lean closer, letting your fingers dance against his rough stubble. He smells of citrus and wine as you breathe him in. "You smell nice." A chuckle escapes him and you feel the way his chest rumbles against your hold. Your breathing sharpens and you stare at him, suddenly desperate to feel his warmth against your skin. Gazing at you, Prince Irus reaches out and cups your face gently in his grasp. There is a warmth in his eyes that softens the edges of his face and you find that you cannot look away. His thumb brushes against your lower lip and you shudder against his touch. Leaning closer, his mouth brushes against the shell of your ear and your fingers tighten around him when you feel the tickle of his breath. "I have missed being alone with you, Beloved," he murmurs. "If I could remain like this, I would gladly do so." You tilt your head to gaze at him. "And what of the war?" He presses a soft kiss against your cheek. His lips are warm and you suddenly shiver, feeling goose pimple spread along your arms. When he withdraws, you reach out and press your fingers against your skin. The imprint of his lips still remain and you find yourself unable to quell the loudness of your heartbeat. It threatens to deafen you even as Prince Irus speaks. "Nothing matters to me more than you do," he responds. Holding you closer, Prince Irus' arms slip around your waist. "It is you that holds my thoughts, not the war." Your eyes meet his and you find his blue gaze filled with vulnerability. A gasp escapes your lips and you draw him closer, basking in the heat that he exudes. Prince Irus smiles softly and leans forward, his breath warm as he presses his forehead against yours. <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_53A5a4]]

The silence envelops you both as the sea beyond the stone wall mutes the sounds of the revelry. Standing this close, you notice the flecks of dark hunger in Prince Irus' gaze and feel the way he presses against you. Your fingers tangle in the soft curls of his blond hair and you hear a groan deep in his throat that reverberates through his chest. "There is something I need to confess," he breathes. "I have tried to cast it aside, but it will not leave me, $name." You frown in concern. "What is it?" Prince Irus reaches out and grasps both of your hands in his. His thumb strokes the back of your knuckles and you try to ignore the sliver of heat that curls against your stomach at his touch. "I have found myself entangled by my emotions," he murmurs. "I think about you when I know I should not. Your face is the one that I seek out when I enter a room." He pauses, smiling at you with unveiled sincerity. "I love you, $name. I thought it had been madness to feel this way when I have never truly known it before, but I cannot deny my feelings for you." <<set $chp8_53A5a4 to 0>> [["I love you too," you answer.|chp8_53A5a5][$chp8_53A5a4 +=1, $irusRom +=5]] [["Irus," you mumble, feeling flustered. "I feel the same way."|chp8_53A5a5][$chp8_53A5a4 +=2, $irusRom +=5]] [["I do not know what to say," you admit, feeling overwhelmed by his confession.|chp8_53A5a5][$chp8_53A5a4 +=3, $irusRom +=5]]

<<if $chp8_53A5a4 is 1>> "I love you too," you answer. It is the truth and you know it the moment the words escape you. Prince Irus' eyes widen in surprise before he surges forward, drawing you securely against his chest. Your heart trembles beneath your ribs and you feel the enormity of your shared declaration filling you with an searing heat that spreads down your arms and burns against the tips of your fingers. "I did not dare hope you would feel the same," he breathes. "To know that you do fills me with immense joy." You smile at him, enjoying the way his fingers linger against your sides and the softness in his eyes as he gazes at you. Perhaps you were always bound to find yourself falling in love with Prince Irus. You have spent more time together than you have with any other in the past months and the pull you feel towards him only seems to grow with each day that passes. "I have felt this way for some time," you murmur. Prince Irus laughs, the sound delirious with happiness as he leans down and presses a kiss against your forehead. "Stay the night with me, $name. I wish to hold you close and never let go." <<elseif $chp8_53A5a4 is 2>> "Irus," you mumble, feeling flustered. "I feel the same way." Heat rushes to your cheeks and you almost avoid looking at Prince Irus as shyness tightens around your throat. Your breathing quickens as your heartbeat thuds loudly in your ears. It is difficult to know where to look or what to do. Falling in love with Prince Irus has left you a fool, unable to form any sound. "You do?" Prince Irus asks. His question draws your eyes up towards him and you stare, unable to tear your gaze away from the softness in his eyes. Trembling, you reach out and grasp the side of his face in your palm. He lets out a breath and leans against your touch, the ends of his hair brushing against the tips of your fingers as he draws closer to you. "I love you too," you confess. "My feelings for you are nothing like I have known before. But I know them to be true." You grip your chest. "I feel it in my chest whenever I think about you." The corners of Prince Irus' lips quirk into a wide smile and he surges forward, crashing you against his chest. His lips press soft pecks against the exposed skin of your face - from your eyelids to your nose, before he pulls away and presses a gentle kiss against your forehead. "Will you stay with me tonight?" he asks. "I do not wish to part from you so soon." <<elseif $chp8_53A5a4 is 3>> "I do not know what to say," you admit, feeling overwhelmed by his confession. You are stunned as you gaze at Prince Irus, unable to form coherent thoughts as your heartbeat quickens under your chest. He loves you. The words that he spoke so easily seem to have difficulty forming in your mouth. You do not know what it is that keeps you from returning his words. Perhaps it is the apprehension of the looming war or perhaps, it is because falling in love had never been your goal. But as you stand across from Prince Irus, you know that your turmoil must reflect in your expression. He holds you gently, as though afraid he will startle you and casts you a warm smile. "It is alright, $name," he breathes. "You need not say anything. I only wished to express my feelings for you tonight and I have." Your mouth goes dry. "You are not angry?" Prince Irus' face creases in confusion. "No. I could never be angry at you, Beloved." He gathers you in his arms and draws you closer. "It is enough to hold you like this. I ask nothing of you in return." "Oh," you mumble. Suddenly, it is as if you can breathe again. Sinking against his embrace, you bury your face against the crook of his neck. "Then you can hold me for as long as you want, Irus." He laughs and the sound is soft and soothes the deseperate thudding of your heart. "If that is true, will you stay with me tonight? I wish nothing more than to hold you like this." <</if>> You pull pack, gazing at his blue eyes, now dark with unhidden yearning. Warmth courses through your skin and you shudder. [["Yes," you answer. "I will stay with you tonight."|chp8_53A5a6]] [["I am sorry, Irus," you explain. "But I think it would be best if I return to my chamber tonight."|chp8_53A5a5_end]]

"Yes," you answer. "I will stay with you tonight. Your words elicit a soft breath from Prince Irus. He gathers you into his arms and it is all you can do but sink into his hold. His arms encircle your waist, drawing you even closer as his lips brush the side of your face. You are consumed by the thoughts that he //loves// you and a surge of warmth fills your chest. "Then let us not waste another moment," Prince Irus murmurs. He withdraws slightly and smiles at you softly. "Come, Beloved." Your skin burns from the fervent tone of his voice. For a moment, you can do nothing but stare at the side of his face as his fingers thread through yours. Prince Irus tugs you closer, leading you away from the music and the feast and the thought of being alone with him causes a pleasant heat to slip over your skin. [[Next.|chp8_53A6]]

"I am sorry, Irus," you explain. "But I think it would be best if I return to my chamber tonight." His smile does not falter at your rejection and instead, he draws you closer before pressing another soft kiss atop your forehead. The gentleness of his kiss warms you to the bottom of your toes and you shudder when he pulls away. Slipping his arm through yours, Prince Irus casts you an affectionate look. "Then allow me to escort you there," he murmurs. You nod, accepting his offer and follow him as he navigates you back into the hallways of the stone building. As your steps slow before your room, Prince Irus turns and pulls you into a warm embrace. His heat seeps into you, until it settles against your bones and you let out a breath. "I bid you a good night, Beloved," he states. "Rest well." He waits until you are past the door of your room before he takes his leave from you. Once you are alone, you reach out and wrap your arms around you as though to keep Prince Irus' warmth from escaping you. Slowly, you slip into your bed, your thoughts filled with the sight of his face as you slip into a deep slumber. [[Next.|chp8_end]]

<<if $chp8_53B is 1>> "I wanted to speak to you," you respond, offering her a kind smile. Throughout your journey, Queen Elora has proven to be a valuable ally to Prince Irus and someone you can depend on. Her companionship has been one that you have come to cherish and you glance at her, hoping that your thoughts are conveyed through your expression. Queen Elora releases a breath and returns your smile. "I am grateful, $name." She glances towards the rest of the garden. "I fear that I am not enjoying the revelry as much as I should." You reach out and squeeze her wrist. "Then I am happy to keep you entertained." She laughs and the sound is musical against the air. In that moment, her face is free of the worries that she wore only seconds earlier. The moonlight slips over her face, catching her long lashes and glistens against the depths of her eyes and you smile warmly, feeling your eyes warming at the sight. "Thank you, $name," she responds, smiling a moment longer. "You are a good friend and I am thankful for that." <<elseif $chp8_53B is 2>> "If I were you, I would ask for the best wine the island has," you laugh. Your teasing does not go unnoticed by Queen Elora and she grins widely. In that moment, the sullen mood that seemed to have gripped her eases until in its place you see a glimmer of mirth in her dark eyes. She turns to survey the garden, her lips still pulled into a smile. "The best wine is served by my uncle," she answers. "Though I do not doubt that what they offer tonight is of good quality." You tilt your head at her with a questioning look. "You do not seem to be enjoying yourself." Your words draw Queen Elora's attention towards you and her eyebrows furrow. She opens her mouth to respond but something seems to stop her from speaking freely. The tension that seems to have held her so tightly earlier returns and the jovial atmosphere around you is quickly forgotten. "Forgive me, $name," she sighs. "I am not the easiest to be around tonight." You shake your head. "You need not apologise. I am only happy to spend time with you." <<elseif $chp8_53B is 3>> "Perhaps they are only being polite," you retort. "You have been quite sullen and withdrawn; behaviour unbecoming of a queen." You are no leader but you are also not blind to the stares and whispers cast in Queen Elora's direction. She has secluded herself in the edge of the garden, away from the guests who watch her with interest. You wonder if she is aware that her isolation has only made the alliance with Dena appear to be far more fragile than it is. "I suppose you also believe that my role as queen outweighs my need for solitude?" she asks. Your lips tug into a deep frown. "You are aware then of your duties. Why do you hide away like this?" Queen Elora scoffs, her eyebrows furrowing as she glares at an approaching attendant. The attendant quickly halts before turning and darting away. You let out a breath and glance towards Dena's dirction where $Dhe stands surrounded by a group of guests. They chatter loudly and you know that this feast seems to serve $Dhis interests far more than it serves Prince Irus'. "You sound like my mother when you speak like that," Queen Elora sighs. "I do not wish to speak to any of Dena's guests or to Dena, for that matter. This is not my alliance, $name." You frown. "You played an integral role in securing the alliance." Queen Elora shrugs. "And what of it? Does that mean I should smile when I am yet to find any joy in this blasted island?" Your words dies on your tongue and you turn away. It is evident that Queen Elora will not be moved by your words nor does she seem to care that her lack of socialising will only hamper any further support from those gathered tonight. <<elseif $chp8_53B is 4>> "I enjoy spending time with you," you breathe. "Whether you are drunk on wine or otherwise." Your earnest tone elicits a soft chuckle from Queen Elora and she turns to face you fully. She is resplendent in the way she stands tall and without fear of anyone. Her dark eyes are endless as they search your face and you feel a unfurling heat low in your stomach. It presses under your skin, warming you until you are certain that you must appear as flustered as you feel. "You have not seen me drunk, $name," Queen Elora whispers. "However, your kindness is almost enough to make me forget all sense of decorum." You blink in surprise. The way Queen Elora looks at you is enough to make your head dizzy with want. She steps closer to you, her scent a floral mixture of sweetness and fresh spice, as you breathe deeply. Reaching out, Queen Elora's fingers lift to splay against your face. Her fingers are soft and warm, sending another thrill of longing through you. "Elora," you breathe, almost gasping. She laughs and it is as though there is no one else around you. Her dark eyes are filled with mirth and beneath it, you catch a look of deep affection directed towards you. You swallow as her fingers sweep against your skin, trailing lines of searing fire as she runs her thumb over the corner of your mouth. "I have not said this enough but I wish to tell you that you are breathtaking," she breathes. "As soon as you stepped into the garden tonight, I found myself turning towards you." Your cheeks flush at her words and you swallow as her fingers stray towards your neck. She smiles as your pulse thrums under the pad of her thumb and you look away, unable to hold her gaze without her seeing every thought that threatens to consume you. <<elseif $chp8_53B is 5>> "Not even a war could keep me away from you," you tease. It is a crass jest, you think and perhaps it will offend Queen Elora but you are pleased when she tilts her head back and lets out a laugh. Your eyes catch the gleam of the lanterns that dance against the skin of her throat. Heat curls around your middle, threatening to drown you in dizzying want as you step closer to the young queen. Queen Elora's dark eyes glint with mischief and she turns to face you, beaming widely as her fingers cup your chin. "You say so easily. Do you not fear the consequences of failing to keep your word?" Her jest takes away some of the tension that had creased her delicate features earlier and you offer her a wide smile. Drawing even closer, you are greeted by her warmth and the floral scent that clings to her hair. She is beautiful like this, you think, a woman who has bravely taken to supporting Prince Irus and perhaps, taken to stealing your breath. "I do not," you respond. "For I do not intend on leaving your side." You are surprised when you see the faint tinge of red spread across her cheeks and without thinking, you reach out and press your fingers against her skin. She is hot under your touch and you lean closer, unable to stop the hitching in your breath or the thundering of your heart as you press a soft kiss against her cheek. "That sounds like an oath," she murmurs. You withdraw a moment later, offering her a soft expression. "Perhaps it is, Elora." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_53B2]]

The moment of quiet is broken when a group of finely dressed guests stroll past you both. They glance up in Queen Elora's direction before giggling as they hurry away. You turn to look at Queen Elora and find that she is wearing a look that is difficult to decipher. She must sense your gaze on the side of her face for she turns and looks at you. "Coming to the Southern Islands has only reminded me that I do not belong here," she murmurs. "My uncle does not care for me and I do not believe I can feel much towards him or my family here." You recall her earlier tension and gaze at the rest of the garden, wondering if all Queen Elora sees is a world where is an outsider. <<set $chp8_53B2 to 0>> [["You convinced your uncle to support Dena," you murmur. "Surely you are not as unwelcome as you think?"|chp8_53B3][$chp8_53B2 +=1]] [["You are better off without a family who do not appreciate you," you respond, thinking about your own parents.|chp8_53B3][$chp8_53B2 +=2]] [["You do not need their approval to know that you are a good leader," you reply. "I know that you did your best today."|chp8_53B3][$chp8_53B2 +=3]]

<<if $chp8_53B2 is 1>> "You convinced your uncle to support Dena," you murmur. "Surely you are not as unwelcome as you think?" Your response elicits a humourless snort from Queen Elora and she lifts her hands to cover her mouth, almost as if embarrassed by the sound. When you peer at her, you find that her dark eyes are hard and her fingers curl into the fabric of her trousers. "My uncle only agreed because if it were not for my mother, he would not be be ruling over the island," she replies. You frown. "I do not understand." Queen Elora exhales tiredly. "Before my mother married my father, she had hoped to become the new leader in the Southern Islands. But then, she met my father and decided to allow my uncle to take her stead instead. She pleaded with the old ruler to have Sovereign Baen take her place and it was agreed." "But why would that affect your uncle's treatment of you?" you question. "When my mother returned, there had been rumours she had come back for my uncle's throne. It was untrue but it never took away his fear and I suppose he thinks that is what I wanted too when I visited him today," she murmurs. <<elseif $chp8_53B2 is 2>> "You are better off without a family who do not appreciate you," you respond, thinking about your own parents. Your words are tinged with the hollowness that comes from knowing what it is like to have a family that are never truly there for you. Ahlf tried to protect you and in doing so, he hid your mother's existence from you. And $mama, despite her sudden happiness at your reappearance, seemed to have no qualms about starting a new family without you. Queen Elora turns to look at you and you see her dark eyes soften. "You are right, $name. And yet, it still hurts all the same." You do not have a response to that and you swallow a hard lump in the back of your throat. No amount of telling yourself that you are better off knowing the truth can ever take away the longing you felt as a child nor does it stop the ache that twists around your chest, pressing down until you can no longer swallow a full breath without choking. "At least once we leave, you will no longer have to see your uncle," you murmur. Queen Elora smiles, but the look in her eyes is sorrowful as she speaks. "Yes, you are right." <<elseif $chp8_53B2 is 3>> "You do not need their approval to know that you are a good leader," you reply. "I know that you did your best today." She managed to secure Dena's role as the new ruler and she did it all even after learning about $Dhis debts. You offer her a wide smile, hoping to ease the ache that seems to have settled between her shoulders and you are rewarded by being graced with a soft smile. "You are kind to say that, $name," she replies. "But I only did what I believe is best for Iri." You search her expression but whatever you find in her dark brown eyes disappears before you can make any sense of it. Queen Elora has never truly complained about aiding Prince Irus and despite her role as a leader of Vinia, she seems uninterested in asking for anything in return from the exiled prince like your other allies have demanded. "You are a kind ruler," you murmur. "You have helped Prince Irus and me when you did not have to. I am not saying it to be kind but because it is the truth. You are a good ruler." She opens her mouth then stops, before turning away. When she speaks, her voice is low and you struggle to make out her words. "I... thank you, $name," she breathes. <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_53B4]]

Your conversation is soon swallowed by the sound of drumbeats, followed by the beginning of a low melody. You follow the sound towards its source and find a group of people, gathered in the middle of the open garden as they play their wooden instruments. Slowly, as though drawn towards the music, guests begin to take to the garden as they move languidly as they dance. Some dance with intricate steps, swirling around until all you can see is the blinding colours of their attire while there are those who seem to dance together in pairs. It is nothing like the dances you have seen before, for the expressions on the faces of the dancers are freer than your own, filled with joy and free of any turmoil. Queen Elora lets out a breath. "I have not danced in a while." Gazing at you, her lips pull into a soft smile. "And you, $name, have you danced before?" <<set $chp8_53B4 to 0>><<set $dance_level to 0>> [["Never," you reply. "I had little reason to dance in Salt Bay."|chp8_53B5][$chp8_53B4 +=1, $dance_level +=1]] [["A few times," you admit. "But it is nothing as grand as this. I could only dance alone following the steps from what I read in books."|chp8_53B5][$chp8_53B4 +=2, $dance_level +=2]] [["I used to dance when the rest of Salt Bay would celebrate the end of harvests," you murmur. "But I could never join them so I would dance alone."|chp8_53B5][$chp8_53B4 +=3, $dance_level +=3]]

<<if $chp8_53B4 is 1>> "Never," you reply. "I had little reason to dance in Salt Bay." You remember the days filled with longing to join the rest of the festivities. But Ahlf had been strict in his instructions and venturing without his knowledge was a difficult feat. Dancing had never been something you ever understood. Your father did not dance and you were uncertain if the dances in Salt Bay were only meant for those unlike you. Queen Elora's eyebrows push together as she regards you. "I suppose you would not have had much chance to dance there." You nod. "The dancers here seem... happier in a way that those in Salt Bay never did." "It is because they are having fun," she answers. Turning, she offers you a genial smile. "Tell me, $name, would you care to dance with me?" <<elseif $chp8_53B4 is 2>> "A few times," you admit. "But it is nothing as grand as this. I could only dance alone following the steps from what I read in books." The books your father kept had never been interesting but you recall finding one that depicted steps unfamiliar to you. Dancing had not come easily, not when your feet tangled against each other your arms flailed around you as you stumbled. You let out a breath and turn your gaze onto the dancers before you. They wear expressions of delight and you wonder if that is what was missing from you. "Oh? I did not think anyone learnt how to dance from books anymore," Queen Elora responds. You smile. "It was the only way I could learn. My father never danced and those in Salt Bay would never teach me." Her expression falls and she gazes at you softly. "Then would you like to dance with me, $name? I assure you, my tutors praised my excellent skills so it will be easy enough to guide you." <<elseif $chp8_53B4 is 3>> "I used to dance when the rest of Salt Bay would celebrate the end of harvests," you murmur. "But I could never join them so I would dance alone." The words are hollow as they slip past your lips. You were never wanted by those in Salt Bay and so you took to watching their festivities from afar. Their laughter and cheer were often followed by dancing and from the top of the hill, where the stone cottage sat, you used to watch in awe. Dancing alone had been comforting for a time. You could almost forget that were different or unwanted as your legs followed the intricate steps and your arms curled against the air gracefully. But as you gaze at the dancers in the garden, you realise that you had been fooling yourself. Dancing alone was no comfort, not when you were cast out for your heritage. "Dancing is meant to be enjoyed with others," Queen Elora murmurs. She gazes at you and offers you a smile. "Will you dance with me, $name?" <</if>> Her expression is warm and her eyes gleam with mirth. Your eyes drift once more to the sea of dancers and you swallow. Queen Elora waits patiently for your response and you... <<set $chp8_53B5 to 0>> [[...agree to dance with her.|chp8_53B6]] [[...shake your head in refusal.|chp8_53B5a]]

"I will dance with you," you breathe. Your words elicit a sharp sound from Queen Elora and she gathers your hands in hers before tugging you towards the throng of dancers. There is a youthful expression of glee on her face and you find yourself unable to look away. It is nothing like the poised queen you have become accustomed to and you swallow, feeling your breathing hitch as she pulls you to the middle of the garden. The music is louder closer to the wooden instruments and the excitement weighs heavily in the air, almost pulling you towards Queen Elora. She smiles widely at you, her dark eyes meeting your gaze as her fingers thread through yours. "Are you ready to dance, <<if $elora_lock is true>>my love?<<else>>$name?<</if>>" she asks. <<set $chp8_53B6 to 0>> [["I am," you reply, eager to follow her steps.|chp8_53B7][$chp8_53B6 +=1]] [["Of course," you answer, pulling her into a dance.|chp8_53B7][$chp8_53B6 +=2]]

"I am sorry," you murmur, looking away. "But I cannot accept a dance with you." Your heartbeat thrums loudly in your chest and you suddenly wish to turn away from the sight of the dancers. You are uncertain what holds you from joining the rest of the guests who seem unconcerned by their easy movements or cheering laughter. Perhaps it is the knowledge that you will be amongst their grip or perhaps it is your hesitation of being shoved away that keeps you standing stiffly. Queen Elora's eyes find yours and she nods in understanding. "You need not apologise, $name. These dances can become quite frenetic." She pauses, smiling at you. <<if $elora_lock is true>>"If you do not wish to dance then perhaps you would like to spend a moment of quiet with me instead?" You gaze at her earnest expression and feel the unseen tug at your chest that draws you closer to her warmth. Queen Elora's gaze slips over your features and you shiver, suddenly cold despite the humidity in the air. [["Yes," you breathe. "I would like that."|chp8_53B8]] [["Perhaps another night, Elora," you murmur. "I would prefer to rest."<<else>>"Thank you for coming to speak to me when others dared not. I will bid you farewell and take my leave from the festivities." You nod in response, offering a slight nod as Queen Elora turns away and makes her way through the crowds. Alone, you cast your eyes across the garden and suddenly feel overcome by fatigue. With a weary sigh, you follow Queen Elora's lead and depart from the revelry around you, wanting nothing more than to soothe your weariness. [[Next.|chp8_end]]<</if>>

<<if $chp8_53B6 is 1>> Queen Elora eagerly pulls at your shoulders, drawing you into a quick-paced dance that makes you gasp in surprise. Her feet are light against the soft ground and she twirls and turns with an effortless grace that fills you with awe as you watch her. She laughs and her hands slip around your waist, drawing you closer until you can feel her breaths against your skin. <<if $elora_lock is true>>"We should have danced sooner," she murmurs, leaning closer to press a kiss against your brow. "You are a better dance partner than most who have deigned to dance with me."<<else>>"You look happy, $name," she remarks. "I am glad."<</if>> The music quickens and without warning, Queen Elora darts out from your grip. She spins around until you are dizzy with the sight of her long hair glinting unter the flickering lanterns above you. She laughs, drawing your hands in her own as she pulls you after her. <<if $dance_level is 1>>You stumble, almost colliding into Queen Elora but she presses her palms against your shoulders to steady you.<<elseif $dance_level is 2>>Your feet are not nearly as deft as Queen Elora's and you step on the end of her toes, before drawing back with wide eyes. She laughs, guiding you with ease back into your position.<<elseif $dance_level is 3>>Her steps are light and you are pleased when you find yourself able to follow them without stumbling.<</if>> Together, you spin until the dancers around you blur into a myriad of colours and sound. Your blood rushes past your ears and it is suddenly difficult to remember why you have never danced like this before. As the music rises to a deafening crescendo, Queen Elora pulls you flush against her and beams at you. All at once, the music stops and you find yourself breathing harshly as you stare at the young queen. <<elseif $chp8_53B6 is 2>> Queen Elora smiles at you in delight when you tug her to follow your lead. You stare at her expression, suddenly overwhelmed by the surge of warmth that fills you before your attention is drawn away by the thudding drums. Gripping her hand, you lead Queen Elora to the middle of the garden, away from the jostling dancers around you. As the melody quickens, you tug the young queen closer and draw her into a dizzying set of moves. Her eyebrows raise up at your quick pace and she hesitates for a moment, before allowing her hands to rest against your shoulders. Smiling widely, Queen Elora presses her lips against your ear as she speaks in a breathless voice. <<if $elora_lock is true>>"You are dancing well, my love," she breathes.<<else>>"I would never have known you have not danced like this before, $name," she laughs.<</if>> The music around you swells to a loud crescendo and you hear the laughter and cheers around you. <<if $dance_level is 1>>For a moment, you stumble but Queen Elora catches your sleeves as she steadies you.<<elseif $dance_level is 2>>You nearly trip over your feet, but you quickly regain your footing much to your relief.<<elseif $dance_level is 3>>You draw Queen Elora into a sweeping twirl and you grin widely when she glances at you with mirth.<</if>> Dancing faster, you and Queen Elora spin around until you are dizzy with laughter and breathlessness. All too soon, the music ceases and you find yourself gripping Queen Elora tightly, wearing a wide smile. Her breathing is fast, matching your own and you feel sweat against the back of your neck. <</if>> <<if $elora_lock is true>>"Thank you for dancing with me," she murmurs. Her eyes dart towards your mouth. "Will you care to join me for a moment of quiet?" [[You nod in agreement, following after Queen Elora.|chp8_53B8]] [["Perhaps another night, Elora," you murmur. "I would prefer to rest."|chp8_53B7_earlyend]]<<else>>"Thank you for the dance, $name," Queen Elora exclaims. She pulls away and smooths back a loose strand of her dark hair. You return her smile, suddenly grateful that she asked you to dance and pleased that you agreed. Glancing at you, Queen Elora nods slightly before taking a few steps away. "You have made this night far more enjoyable than I imagined it could be," she breathes. "Thank you, $name. I will take my leave of you then and bid you a good night." Turning away, she departs from the garden and you watch after her for a while before you sigh. Tiredness slips over your limbs and you make your way from the crowd of dancers, suddenly eager for sleep. [[Next.|chp8_end]]<</if>>

Your breathing is ragged as you follow Queen Elora away from the rest of the dancers. She leads you away from the main garden and towards a narrow path between two large trees. The foliage around you is dense and offers some cover from the rest of of the revelry. Here, it is quieter and the salty breeze from the sea brushes against your skin. Queen Elora leans against the wide bark of the tree and you find yourself staring at her. She is magnificent in her beauty, from the way her dark hair splays out behind her and from the way her lips part as she watches you with a teasing smile. Your heartbeat is loud in your ears and you fear that Queen Elora can hear it from where she stands. She gazes at you, her dark eyes filled with affection as she reaches out to clasp your hand in hers. Her skin is smooth and sends a surge of heat through you. Staring at her, you draw closer, breathing in her perfumed scent before your eyes meet. <<set $chp8_53B8 to 0>> [[Drawing your face to hers, Queen Elora kisses you softly.|chp8_53B9][$chp8_53B8 +=1, $eloraRom +=5]] [[Unable to stop yourself, you lean forward and steal her mouth in a hungry kiss.|chp8_53B9][$chp8_53B8 +=2, $eloraRom +=5]] [["You are breathtaking in the moonlight," you whisper.|chp8_53B9][$chp8_53B8 +=3, $eloraRom +=5]] [[Your hands slip over her waist as you draw Queen Elora into an embrace.|chp8_53B9][$chp8_53B8 +=4, $eloraRom +=5]] [[Your lips follow the trail of your fingers as you press featherlight pecks against her forehead and cheeks.|chp8_53B9][$chp8_53B8 +=5, $eloraRom +=5]]

"Perhaps another night, Elora," you murmur. "I would prefer to rest." Queen Elora nods at your response before she reaches out to grip your palm against hers. Her skin is flushed and you note the redness of her cheeks as she tugs you away from the garden. "Then you will not mind if I accompany you back?" she asks. "I too am tired of the revelry." You smile in agreement and allow her to pull you towards the large, stone building. It is not long before you are walking through the hallway towards the space where your rooms are housed. Queen Elora pauses outside her door and turns to press a lingering kiss against your cheek. "Good night, my love," she breathes. "I do hope your dreams will be filled with thoughts of me." She withdraws from you and you almost reach out to drag her back into your hold. Smiling at you, she disappears into her room and you find yourself eager to dream tonight. [[Next.|chp8_end]]

<<if $chp8_53B8 is 1>> Your skin heats under the softness of her fingers as she draws you closer. Queen Elora's breath spreads across your face and you smell the lingering spices in her mouth from a meal she must have eaten earlier. Her dark eyes graze over your face, their depths endless as she takes in your features. A shiver runs through you as you feel the lightest scrape of her nails against the hollow of your throat. And then, Queen Elora leans closer and captures your mouth with her own. You gasp into her lips. She kisses you softly at first, a gentle peck that leaves you desperate for more before her hands reach up to cup the side of your face. Slowly, as though to savour the moment, she takes in your eyes before kissing you once more. Her kiss is no longer soft nor is there anything gentle about it. She kisses you with an unspoken hunger that sends causes a coil of heat to tighten low in your stomach. You are breathless and dizzy; your heart thundering under your chest as her tongue presses against your parted lips. She tastes of cloves and something sweet, as though she had been drinking honey. A whimper escapes you and you lean closer into Queen Elora's hold, the kiss deepening as her fingers begin to trace patterns against your exposed collarbone. Your back arches and she moans at the contact. She kisses your jawline to your ear before finally pulling away. The sound of her heavy breathing mingles with the pounding of your pulse. She smiles at you with wide, black eyes and suddenly, you cannot seem to breathe. <<elseif $chp8_53B8 is 2>> You can wait no longer as you lean forward and press your mouth against Queen Elora's. She gasps in surprise against your lips before her hands slip around your waist and her fingers tighten against your tunic. You kiss her deeper and she makes a sound that might be pleasure, but it is muffled by your mouth against hers. Her hands roam down to your hips as you kiss her again and her tongue sweeps over your bottom lip. Parting for breath, you gaze at her as you struggle to silence your gallpoing heart. Blood rushes past your ears and for a moment, you can only stare at the young queen who has seemed to have enchanted you with her beauty and cunning. "Why did you stop?" she asks, her words coming out needy. You smile and press a soft kiss against the edge of her mouth. "Forgive me, Elora." She begins to respond but you swallow her voice with your lips. A whimper escapes her and you surge forward, your fingers threading through her dark hair as you kiss her deeper. Your tongues meet in a hungry dance and you feel your stomach tighten with a burning desire that only urges you forward. She moans into the kiss and you are suddenly overwhelmed by your need for more. Pulling back, you stare at Queen Elora with wide eyes. Her lips are wet and swollen from your shared kiss and her eyes are dark with yearning. A shuddering breath escapes you and you reach out to brush your fingers against her face. <<elseif $chp8_53B8 is 3>> "You are breathtaking in the moonlight," you whisper. It is only when the words leave your mouth do you realise how true they are. Queen Elora is magnificent, you think, her back pressed against the tree and her dark eyes wide with unveiled desire. You lean closer, grasping the side of her face and you shudder when her fingers trail a gentle path down your neck and towards your collarbone. A soft smile pulls at her lips and she buries her face against the crook of your neck. "It is nothing I have not heard before and yet, when you say it like that, it makes me warm all over." You turn to meet her gaze and find her wearing a sincere look of affection. It makes your heartbeat quicken and your fingers tighten against her skin. She lets out a gasp as you draw closer until you can make out the scent of cloves on her breath and feel the way her pulse jumps under your touch. "I mean every word, Elora," you whisper. "You are magnificent." She closes her eyes and leans into you further. Your heart pounds erratically and you want to bury your face against her neck and inhale her sweet scent. A shiver runs through you and you bite your lip, trying to quell the urge. Instead, you wrap one arm around her waist and tug her close. <<elseif $chp8_53B8 is 4>> The first thing you notice is Queen Elora's warmth. Her heat seeps into you like a hearth, settling against your bones. The second thing you notice is the way her form fits against you with ease as though she had almost been meant for you. You breathe in deeply, smelling the sweet perfume on her hair as you grasp her tighter. Her arms encircle your neck and shoulders. Leaning closer, she turns her head to meet your gaze and offers you a gentle smile. You shudder under her gaze and your stomach tightens in anticipation. Reaching out, she cups the side of your face, trailing heat as her fingers slip down to your jaw. "I could never tire of this," she admits. Then softer, she murmurs, "I could never tire of //you//." The weight of her words settles against your chest heavily and you suddenly find it difficult to swallow a full breath. She is warm against you and her smile does not falter even when you do not respond. Leaning into Queen Elora's touch, you bury your face against her neck and let out a breath. She hums softly, her voice gentle against your ears before she draws away. Offering you another beaming smile, she reaches out and presses a gentle peck against your forehead. "You are trembling, my love." You flush deeply and avert your gaze. "I cannot help it when I am with you." <<elseif $chp8_53B8 is 5>> Her skin is salty, as if she chose to bathe in the sea but you know that she is warm from the humidity of the air, much like you. A gasp escapes Queen Elora as you press another kiss to the side of her temple, your fingers reaching out to grasp her face as you tug her closer. Her pulse quickens under your thumb and she releases a shuddering breath against your neck. "I could spend an eternity with you like this," you breathe. Queen Elora turns her head so that your eyes meet. In the darkness, shrouded by the thick trees and away from the glowing lanterns, you only have the moonlight to make out the features of her face. Her lips are parted slightly and her eyes are wide as they find yours. Reaching out, you press your palm against her chest and feel her thundering heartbeat beneath your skin. "You say it like it is a promise, my love," she murmurs. "Do you truly mean what you say?" You press your lips against her neck, smiling when she whimpers against your kiss, before whispering, "I mean it, Elora." You withdraw from her soft skin and face her once more. She stares at you with an unwavering look of affection and you shiver when her fingers smooth over the side of your face. Silence fills the narrow space between you but there a deafening roar of the things left unspoken. "Then you shall have me for eternity," she assures. "I would have no one but you at my side, my love." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_53B10]]

Standing there, sheltered by the trees, it almost easy to forget that there are other guests milling about. But a sudden cheer from the garden steals your attention towards the rest of the dancing and revelry. You sigh before you turn to face Queen Elora once more. In her face, you see her eyes heavy with unhidden desire and it stabs at your chest like a heat of fire. You swallow as your breathing quickens. The warmth from earlier only spools low in your stomach, twisting and pulling until you can do nothing more than to gaze at Queen Elora. She must notice something in your eyes for she reaches out and presses her palm against your cheek. "It is late and I abhor the thought of spending the night away from you, $name." A smile tugs at the corner of her lips. "Stay with me tonight." Her words are heavy with meaning. You stare at her, thinking about the implications of her request and what it would mean for your deepening bond. [["I would like that, Elora," you answer. "I shall stay with you tonight."|chp8_53B11]] [["Forgive me, Elora," you murmur. "But I must refuse your offer."|chp8_53B10_earlyend]]

"I would like that, Elora," you answer. "I shall stay with you tonight." "You have pleased me greatly, $name," Queen Elora murmurs. She kisses your cheek gently. "Come. Let us leave the rest of the festivities." Her fingers slip against yours and you are warmed from the softness of her touch as she leads you away from the garden. You do not notice the music or the dancing now that you are with Queen Elora. Your heartbeat thunders loudly in your ears and you swallow, suddenly finding yourself unable to look away from the side of her face. She leads you into the familiar hallway where your rooms are housed and you find that hers sits only a few doors away from your own. Turning to smile fondly at you, Queen Elora pushes open the door and tugs you inside her room. It is only when the latch clicks behind you that you turn to gaze at her. Alone, like this, it is as if there is no one else in the world but the two of you. [[Next.|chp8_53B12]]

"Forgive me, Elora," you murmur. "But I must refuse your offer." Queen Elora's gaze softens and she offers you a gentle smile. There is nothing unkind in the way that she looks at you and you see no trace of disappointment in your rejection. Pulling away from you, Queen Elora slips her arm through yours and smiles widely. "I understand, $name," she responds. "Then I hope you do not mind escorting me to my chamber? I must admit the revelry has lost its charm." You nod at her, offering a warm smile as you lead Queen Elora through the throng of dancers and into the stone building. When you reach the hallway, where your rooms are housed, you pause outside Queen Elora's room and turn to face her. "Thank you for the pleasant night," you murmur. "Sleep well, Elora." She smiles. "Thank you, my love." Disappearing behind her door, you find your steps lighter as you return to your own bed. As you settle against the covers, you find your lips curving upwards as sleep pulls at your mind. [[Next.|chp8_end]]

<<if $chp8_53C is 1>> "Everyone needs to rest," you murmur. "Even you, Sir Oren." You have known Sir Oren long enough to understand that he often takes on more responsibilities than is necessary. It has often left him worried for others without worrying about himself. A frown forms along your lips and you gaze at him with a concerned expression. The skin beneath his eyes are dark and he looks like he has not slept properly in days. Sir Oren ducks his head, turning away from your stare. When he speaks, his voice is muffled by his hand as though he is embarrassed by your words. "It is nothing, $name. I am only doing what anyone in my place would do." You reach out and touch his arm. "You are doing too much on your own. I worry for you, Sir Oren." A smile pulls at Sir Oren's lips and he turns to look at you with reddening cheeks. When he smiles like this, he no longer appears as worried as you are accustomed to. Reaching out, he pats your hand gently before withdrawing his touch. He sighs and turns to survey the garden once more before he speaks. "You are kind, $name," he murmurs. "I suppose it is difficult to remember how to relax." You nudge his shoulder with your own. "Then I shall have to show you." Sir Oren's smile softens and he gazes at you. "I would like that very much, $name." <<elseif $chp8_53C is 2>> "The only thing to be wary of are the drunken dancers tonight," you laugh. Dena's feast seems to have attracted wealthy guests, half of whom are dancing and the other half are filling their goblets with eagerness. It is not difficult to tell that most of the guests around you are in varying stages of intoxication. It is doubtful that anyone would try to harm any of your companions tonight, not when the alliance is secured. Sir Oren smiles at your jest but it quickly falters. "I thought the same thing in Vinia. But the Blood Guard were there." Your eyebrows furrow. "This is not the same thing, Sir Oren. You cannot focus only on your mistakes. Throughout this journey, you have protected us far more than you have failed." A shuddering breath leaves Sir Oren's lips and he turns to face you with gratitude in his hazel eyes. This close, you notice the tiredness under his hazel eyes and the way his hair has been pushed back as though he had been in a rush. You reach out and squeeze his wrist gently before you offer him a reassuring smile. "There is nothing here that warrants your focus tonight, Sir Oren," you state. "You should rest and enjoy yourself." Sir Oren nods, his shoulders sagging slightly, before he smiles. "You are right, $name. Perhaps I can allow myself a moment of peace tonight." <<elseif $chp8_53C is 3>> "That is sensible," you mock. "Given that you allowed the Blood Guard in Vinia, it is good to see that you are ever vigilant." The barb comes out cruel to your ears but you offer no remorse for your words. Sir Oren is the Captain of the Royal Vinian Guard and yet, his lack of experience in dealing with wars seems to have made him vulnerable to making mistakes. You cast him a look and find that he wears a hard expression. "You need not remind me of that night, $name," he replies. "I think about it daily." Your eyes narrow. "It should weigh on your thoughts. You allowed the Blood Guard into the palace and you continue to hold a position that begs far more skill than you seem to possess." "I know that," Sir Oren snaps. He turns to face you, his hazel eyes darkening with something akin to anger. "Telling me this will not help anyone, $name." You do not think that you have ever seen Sir Oren this angry before. It is difficult to know if it was your provocation or simply the reminder of his ineptitude that caused him to yell but you can admit that it suits him far better than the placid fool he often is. A shrug pulls at your shoulder and you turn away to stare at the garden. "It seems to have helped you in performing your duties better." Sir Oren opens his mouth before closing it. The crease against his forehead reveals his confusion and you do nothing to explain whether you meant your words as an insult or not. <<elseif $chp8_53C is 4>> "You care about everyone so deeply," you breathe. "It is admirable." There is a softness in the way Sir Oren gazes at you. His hazel eyes are warm and they quickly fill with affection. You grow warm under his stare and find your throat tightening around your breath. He is handsome, you think and you suddenly chastise yourself for thinking about his appearance when you are meant to be conversing with him. "Your admiration warms my heart," he murmurs. "I... I only hope to be worthy of it." You frown and reach out to grasp his hand. Sir Oren's fingers suddenly tighten around yours and you feel the rough callouses of his skin. Gently, he threads his fingers through yours and you stare down at your clasped hands. His is warm and it sends a shiver down your back. Swallowing, you find that your mouth is dry and your breathing is shallow. "You are worthy," you whisper. Your eyes meet his. "You have always been worthy, Sir Oren." He stares at you with mild surprise and you watch as his cheeks darken suddenly, turning a deep red in response to your words. Your eyes follow the redness, watching it stain his cheeks before it dips beneath the darkness of his beard. You find it difficult to look away, once more taken by his hazel gaze. "Thank you, $name," he murmurs. Bringing your clasped hands to his lips, he presses a warm kiss against your knuckles. "I will live up to your beliefs." <<elseif $chp8_53C is 5>> "Come now, Captain," you tease. "Even you must take a night off for more pleasurable activities." Flirting with Sir Oren so openly is far more interesting than staring at the revelry around you. You are pleased when you find him spluttering at your words and grin when his cheeks turn red. It is easy to make him blush and yet, even as the teasing of your smile pulls at your lips, you find yourself gazing at him with longing. "$name," Sir Oren mumbles. "I assure you that I take my duties seriously." You tilt your head. "It must get lonely." Sir Oren shakes his head. "That is untrue. I often spend my time with the guards under my watch and..." His words trail off at your smirk before his eyes widen in realisation. "Oh." "Oh?" you ask. "Is that all you have to say?" He shakes his head before turning away to stare at the garden. You study his profile, grinning when you notice the furrow of his brow and the way his lips press together as though he is determined to ignore any of your teasing. You draw closer and you are greeted by the scent of spices that seem to cling to his skin. "Are you truly going to ignore me, Captain? I am awfully bored just standing here," you sigh. Sir Oren stiffens before he finally turns to meet your eyes. The flush on his cheeks has only grown darker and you smile, suddenly filled with a surge of affection. You lean closer and press a chaste peck against his cheek, feeling the scratch of his beard before you withdraw. "$name," Sir Oren mumbles, reaching out to touch his cheek. "Why?" You shrug. "Consider it my gratitude for taking your duties so seriously." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_53C2]]

There is a lull in your conversation as you both turn to gaze out at the garden. Around you are the scents of fresh fruits and the familiar tang of wine in the goblets of the guests. Sir Oren lets out a wistful sight and you turn to gaze at him. A frown sits against his lips and you glance down to where his fingers are clasped tightly behind his back. He appears to be sad though you are uncertain what might have caused it. Glancing towards the revelry once more, your eyes are drawn towards a young girl who cannot be more than a teenager as she runs after a younger boy. "They look happy," Sir Oren comments. You nod. "They do." Sir Oren turns to face you with a faint smile. "They remind me of my younger siblings at home. I miss them a great deal." <<set $chp8_53C2 to 0>> [["It must be difficult being away from your family," you murmur. "I am certain that they think of you often."|chp8_53C3][$chp8_53C2 +=1]] [["I do not know what that must feel like," you mumble. "Rana is... I do not know if she could ever be as close to me as your siblings are with you."|chp8_53C3][$chp8_53C2 +=2]] [["I feel the same way about Zikar and my family in Vinia," you answer, smiling fondly.|chp8_53C3][$chp8_53C2 +=3]]

<<if $chp8_53C2 is 1>> "It must be difficult being away from your family," you murmur. "I am certain that they think of you often." Your words elicit a soft smile from Sir Oren and he gazes at you with a look of warmth. It is easy to see that Sir Oren cares about his family and you wonder for a moment if it is something you would have experienced too if $mama did not leave you when you were still so young. You push away the thoughts and return your attention towards Sir Oren. "They have written to me," he explains. "Nerena is making certain that they are safe but it is difficult being away from them. I fear that something will happen in my absence." You do not know what to say to comfort Sir Oren so you reach out and squeeze his shoulder. He turns to look at you and his lips pull into a gentle smile. Neither of you can know what will happen once the fighting between Prince Irus and his uncle begins. "I am certain you will see them soon," you breathe. Sir Oren smiles but it does not reach his eyes. "Yes." <<elseif $chp8_53C2 is 2>> "I do not know what that must feel like," you mumble. "Rana is... I do not know if she could ever be as close to me as your siblings are with you." The complicated emotions of envy, sorrow and anger tumble around until you are uncertain which demands your attention most. Rana is $mama's second child but she has lived a life without the same hatred that you have. You wonder if she sees you as family or if you are only another strange face in the midst of a war. Sir Oren's frown deepens and he turns to look at you. "Rana is your sister, $name. It will take time before you are accustomed to it." He speaks softly and his eyes dart towards the throng of guests. You gaze at Sir Oren and note the way his lips tug into a frown as though he is lost deep in his memories. Sir Oren must notice your stare because when he turns to look at you, there is a faint smile along his mouth. "I did not always know how to be around my siblings when they came home for the first time," he explains. "But I learnt and so will you if it is what you want." <<elseif $chp8_53C2 is 3>> "I feel the same way about Zikar and my family in Vinia," you answer, smiling fondly. Despite only having met your grandmother and Zikar in Vinia recently, you have come to understand what having a family must be like. For the first time in years, you were welcomed and treated with warmth that you never truly found growing up. You smile, suddenly longing to see your family again, knowing that you are no longer as alone as you used to be. "It is good that you found family," Sir Oren responds. He turns to you with a small smile. "You seem to care for them." You nod. "I... I do care for them. They have been kind to me even after knowing who my father was." Sir Oren's palm slips over your shoulder and you startle in surprise by the touch. Turning to face him, you find that he wears a look of conviction, unwavering as he speaks in a steady voice. "Your heritage does not change the person you are, $name," he breathes. "Your family knows that. It is time that you start believing it too." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_53C4]]

Your conversation is soon swallowed by the sound of drumbeats, followed by the beginning of a low melody. You follow the sound towards its source and find a group of people, gathered in the middle of the open garden as they play their wooden instruments. Slowly, as though drawn towards the music, guests begin to take to the garden as they move languidly as they dance. Some dance with intricate steps, swirling around until all you can see is the blinding colours of their attire while there are those who seem to dance together in pairs. It is nothing like the dances you have seen before, for the expressions on the faces of the dancers are freer than your own, filled with joy and free of any turmoil. Sir Oren watches the dancers with rapt attention. He appears childlike in his wonder and you are taken by the sudden joy in his expression. It softens the lines of worry along his face, making him appear years younger. When he turns to gaze at you, there is a small smile against his lips. "Have you ever danced like this before?" he asks. "It reminds me of the celebrations we had when I was a child." <<set $chp8_53C4 to 0>><<set $dance_level to 0>> [["I have never danced," you explain. "There had been no reason to dance."|chp8_53C41][$chp8_53C4 +=1, $dance_level +=1]] [["Once, I tried to dance," you respond. "But I do not know if I was any good."|chp8_53C41][$chp8_53C4 +=2, $dance_level +=2]] [["I used to watch the dances in Salt Bay from the cottage I shared with my father," you murmur. "It was easier to dance alone then."|chp8_53C41][$chp8_53C4 +=3, $dance_level +=3]]

<<if $chp8_53C4 is 1>> "I have never danced," you explain. "There had been no reason to dance." Dances had always seemed like something meant for celebrations but during your time in Salt Bay, there had never been much to celebrate. You were never welcomed by those around you and Ahlf often took to grumbling whenever there had been festivities. As you watch the dancers now, free of any burdens, a pang of envy steals at your chest. You swallow, uncertain if you are angry for the life you were robbed or upset for the experiences you have missed out on. You glance at Sir Oren and you find a soft expression on his face. It is not pity, but something far gentler that causes your chest to tighten. When he speaks, his voice is low and despite the music, you hear him clearly. "Perhaps I can give you a reason now, $name. Will you dance with me?" <<elseif $chp8_53C4 is 2>> "Once, I tried to dance," you respond. "But I do not know if I was any good." Dancing had been something you taught yourself from the old books you found in the cottage. You were never invited to the festivities in Salt Bay and so your little knowledge of dances were filled with outdated illustrations that you struggled to follow. A flush of heat spreads across your neck and cheeks and you swallow, suddenly reminded of your stumbling feet and waving arms as you tried to make sense of dancing. It had not come easy to you and you wonder as you watch the rest of the dancers if it was only because you had no one to teach you. "I am hardly a good dancer myself," Sir Oren responds. He turns to you with a wide smile. "But it seems like no one cares. Shall we join them, $name?" <<elseif $chp8_53C4 is 3>> "I used to watch the dances in Salt Bay from the cottage I shared with my father," you murmur. "It was easier to dance alone then." You remember the nights when you would steal out of the cottage to stare at the festivities beyond. Ahlf never stopped you but you often wondered if he disapproved of your fascination with the celebrations and dances. You longed to be a part of the joyous atmosphere. But your heritage kept you away from the festivities and so you followed the movements of the dancers from afar. It came easily to you, dancing in the grass with the smell of the sea to comfort you but as you take in the sight of the dancers in the garden, you realise that you were never experiencing the full meaning of dancing. Here, the guests laugh as the twirl around and beam widely at each other. It is nothing as lonely as you knew. Sir Oren glances at you with a gentle expression. "It is sometimes better yo share a dance with another. What say you, $name? Will you share this dance with me?" <</if>> You stare at Sir Oren's warm expression and then, glance towards the garden of dancers once more. The drumbeats are loud in your ears and and you feel the press of humidity against your skin. Dancing in a crowd like this both frightens and excites you. [["Yes, I would like that," you breathe.|chp8_53C42]] [["I must refuse your offer," you mumble. "I do not wish to dance."|chp8_53C41a]]

"Yes, I would like that," you breathe. Your words elicit a bright smile from Sir Oren and he extends his palm towards you. You stare at his hand, noting the rough callouses against his knuckles and the pads of his fingers before you place your hand against his. Sir Oren tightens his grip around your hand and you swallow a shuddering breath, suddenly unable to look away from his hazel eyes or the warmth of his smile. "Then I must apologise in advance for the harm I might cause your toes," he apologises. "I am not the best of dancers." You grin in response. "I am certain that cannot be true." Sir Oren does not respond and instead pulls you into the throng of dancers in the garden. The music is louder here and the heat in the air is thick as you gaze at Sir Oren. He offers you a smile and you are struck by the way it makes your stomach twist in anticipation. "Shall we begin?" he asks. <<set $chp8_53C42 to 0>> [[You nod, intending to follow Sir Oren's lead.|chp8_53C43][$chp8_53C42 +=1]] [[You grin as you grip his hands tightly, leading him into a dance.|chp8_53C43][$chp8_53C42 +=2]]

"I must refuse your offer," you mumble. "I do not wish to dance." Sir Oren's hazel gaze catches your expression and he must see something there that prompts a kind smile to pull at his mouth. He turns to gaze at the crowd around you, dancing with revelry, before returning his attention to you. When he looks at you again, there is an understanding in his gaze that you are suddenly grateful for. "That is fine, $name," he answers. "I would not wish to force you into a dance. I must admit, I have been accused of standing on the toes of my partner." You smile at his jest and nod, basking in his easy companionship. His gaze falls against the side of your face and you turn to look up at him in a silent question. <<if $relationship is false and $orenRom gte 40>>"Perhaps we can take a stroll through the shores instead?" Sir Oren asks. "I am told the sea makes a beautiful sight at night." His question is innocent enough but from the faint red that stains his cheeks and the apprehensive smile on his face, you realise that he is asking to spend time alone with you. The thought of being alone with Sir Oren fills you with a thousand thoughts and you turn away, your ears ringing with the sound of your heartbeat. [["Yes, I would like that," you murmur.|chp8_53C45]] [["I am sorry, but it is late and I would rather return to my room," you explain.|chp8_53C41a1]]<<else>>Sir Oren bows low, before he casts you another smile. "Thank you for keeping me company, $name. But I must take my leave of you. I had hoped to speak with the guards before I retire for the night." You nod. "Of course. Do not let me keep you." Smiling at you, Sir Oren departs. Despite the thick crowd, they part around him as his height seems to deter anyone from stumbling into his path. Sighing, you glance at the dark sky and turn away from the garden, suddenly seeking your bed and a night of rest. [[Next.|chp8_end]]<</if>>

"I am sorry, but it is late and I would rather return to my room," you explain. Sir Oren's eyes soften in understanding and he nods in response. Smiling at you, he offers you his arm and when you stare at it in confusion, he offers you a gentle expression. "I would escort you back to your room, if you would have me?" he asks. You stare at his hand before you offer him a smile. "I would like that." Slipping your palm against Sir Oren's, you feel the rough callouses scrape against your skin. He tugs your elbow into the crook of his own before he leads you away from the garden. As you enter the stone building, drawing nearer to your room, Sir Oren turns to gaze at you with a look of affection. "I hope you enjoy your rest, $name," he breathes. "I shall see you in the morning." He waits until you are inside your room before taking his leave from you. As you watch his fading figure, you turn to your bed with a wide smile. Your thoughts are filled with Sir Oren and his kindness and they follow you into your slumber. [[Next.|chp8_end]]

<<if $chp8_53C42 is 1>> Sir Oren beams at you and pulls you closer. His fingers brush against your face and you breathing hitches. He is warm and impossibly close and you forget about the dancers around you. The drumming beat of the melody thrums loudly in your ears and you swallow as Sir Oren allows his hands to fall to your sides. He grips you tightly, keeping you steady as he pulls you into a dance. As you are led through the garden, your steps <<if $dance_level is 1>>faltering as you struggle to keep up<<elseif $dance_level is 2>>stumbling though you manage to right yourself<<elseif $dance_level is 3>>follow Sir Oren's with ease<</if>>, you are consumed by the heat of Sir Oren. He smiles at you, his gaze unwavering as your bodies move together. The scent of perfume and the rustle of flowing silk become distant echoes as the two of you move in seamless harmony. Sir Oren's movements are effortless and you realise that he was lying earlier. He is a far better dancer than he said he was and you glance down to where his feet ease away from yours without question. "You are a much better dancer than you said," you mumble. <<if $orenRom gte 40>>"I have been practicing," he breathes. "For if the opportunity to dance with you arose, I had hoped to impress you."<<else>>"Nerena told me that dancing is like fighting," he confesses. "Forgive me if it seems like I have misled you."<</if>> The music swells, and Sir Oren leads you into a graceful spin, the garden blurring around you. The dance becomes a conversation without words, a silent exchange of emotions and desires. You lose yourself in his gaze and your breathing becomes faster as your movements grow wilder. As the music reaches its crescendo, Sir Oren pulls you even closer, and for a fleeting moment, time itself seems to stand still. His breathing is as ragged as yours and you grin as the dance finally draws to a close. <<elseif $chp8_53C42 is 2>> Your eagerness must come across because Sir Oren's eyes widen in surprise before he laughs deeply. The sound rumbles through his chest and draws the attention of a few dancers around you but you are suddenly unable to look away. He seems carefree and in that moment, you are suddenly pleased that you agreed to dance with him. Slipping your hands around his torso, you draw Sir Oren closer. He stumbles forward before he rights himself and grips your shoulders tightly. A sheepish smile tugs at the corner of his lips and you return his expression with a wide grin. As the drumbeats fill the air, you tug Sir Oren into a frantic dance, your feet <<if $dance_level is 1>>stumbling over each other as you grip him.<<elseif $dance_level is 2>>managing to keep from tangling with his.<<elseif $dance_level is 3>>glide easily over the soft grass as you lead Sir Oren.<</if>> He is warm beneath his coat and his touch is firm but not uncomfortable as he follows you through the steps. When his hazel eyes meet yours, he smiles. <<if $orenRom gte 40>>"You are radiant when you dance," he whispers. "I cannot look away for fear that I will realise it is a dream."<<else>>"You look happy like this," he murmurs. "I am pleased to see you smile so easily."<</if>> You do not get to respond for the music swells louder, nearly deafening around you as you and Sir Oren swirl around together. A laugh escapes you and you are breathless with the freedom of your movements as air rushes against your face. All at once, the music stops and you nearly collide into Sir Oren as you both stop spinning. His breathing is ragged and his face is flushed. You smile at him and you are taken by the joyful expression on his face as he returns your gaze. <</if>> <<if $orenRom gte 40>>When Sir Oren speaks, his voice comes out low and curls around you like a whispered secret. "$name, I hope that you do not find me too forward when I ask you to join me for a stroll on the beach." You blink, startled by his question and the way that he looks at you. There is unveiled affection in his gaze and from the way his fingers curl at your sides, you become aware that he is asking to continue your night together. [["Yes, I would like that," you murmur.|chp8_53C45]] [["I am sorry, but it is late and I would rather return to my room," you explain.|chp8_53C41a1]]<<else>>"Thank you for the dance, $name," Sir Oren breathes. "It was most enjoyable." You smile in response. "Thank you for asking me to dance." He waves away your words with his hands, before he bows low towards you with a warm expression on his face. When he stands once more, he flashes you a grateful look. "I must bid you a good night, $name," he explains. "I hope that you find rest tonight." He nods to you before he turns and strides away. You watch him for a while before you turn away and move towards the stone building. The heat and tiredness of the day clings to your limbs and suddenly, Sir Oren's words of rest pull you towards your room in seek of sleep. [[Next.|chp8_end]]<</if>>

"Yes, I would like that," you murmur. Sir Oren's smile widens and he clasps your hand, his fingers warm against yours as he leads you away from the revelry in the garden. His steps are slow as he draws you closer and you breath lodges in the back of your throat as you are filled with the scent of his skin and the press of his warmth. As the garden disappears behind you, your eyes are drawn towards the sea as you descend a set of narrow stairs. The scent of salt tickles your nose and you breathe in deeply, as the crash of waves and the sand crunches under your footsteps. Your hand is still held tightly by Sir Oren as he leads you further down the shore. You stare at him for a moment, taking in his appearance under the moonlight and you find that your heartbeat quickens. "It is peaceful here," Sir Oren breathes, turning to meet your eyes. <<set $chp8_53C45 to 0>> [["It is," you agree. "Thank you for bringing me here."|chp8_53C6][$chp8_53C45 +=1, $orenRom +=5]] [["It is not the sea, Sir Oren, but your presence that makes it peaceful," you respond.|chp8_53C6][$chp8_53C45 +=2, $orenRom +=5]] [[You cannot find any words as you gaze at him in admiration.|chp8_53C6][$chp8_53C45 +=3, $orenRom +=5]]

<<if $chp8_53C45 is 1>> "It is," you agree. "Thank you for bringing me here." The air is cool against your skin and it reminds you of Salt Bay and your life before meeting Sir Oren. As you cast your gaze towards the dark expanse of the sea, your lips curve into a smile. The sea reminds you of home and yet, it is Sir Oren who brings you the most calm. Glancing towards him, you find that he watches you with a longing expression. <<elseif $chp8_53C45 is 2>> "It is not the sea, Sir Oren, but your presence that makes it peaceful," you respond. Your eyes dart to his hazel gaze and you watch as his lips part in surprise. He is a calming balm to your worried mind. The sea might be a source of familiarity to you, but you cannot deny that it has not brought you the same peacefulness that Sir Oren has. He stares at you for a moment before he reaches out and grasps your face in his warm hand. <<elseif $chp8_53C45 is 3>> The words on your tongue remain trapped between your lips. You cannot speak, for fear that your voice will tremble and Sir Oren will become aware of just how much his presence affects you. You yearn to remain like this, confined to a moment of quiet where it is only you and him. Your heartbeat thunders under your chest and you let out a sharp breath when he reaches out to grasp your face in his hold. <</if>> "$name," he murmurs. "There is something that I had hoped to ask you." Your heart flutters at the way his mouth shapes around your name. It sends a thrill of warmth through you and you swallow a breath as your cheeks heat under his gaze. He stares at you, a small smile curling on his lips before he steps forward and cups your face with both hands. "I would like you to call me Oren," he states. "Formalities seem so trivial when we have become so close." <<set $chp8_53C6 to 0>><<set $oren to false>> [["Oren," you breathe as his mouth crashes against yours.|chp8_53C7][$chp8_53C6 +=1, $orenRom +=5, $oren to true]] [[You lean closer and slant your lips over his as his name escapes you in a feverent rush.|chp8_53C7][$chp8_53C6 +=2, $orenRom +=5, $oren to true]] [["Oren," you repeat, enjoying the sound of his name on your lips as you press chaste kisses against his face.|chp8_53C7][$chp8_53C6 +=3, $orenRom +=5, $oren to true]] [[You bury your face against his neck, breathing in his scent as you grip him tightly.|chp8_53C7][$chp8_53C6 +=4, $orenRom +=5, $oren to true]] [["Thank you for allowing me the honour, Oren," you respond, beaming widely at him.|chp8_53C7][$chp8_53C6 +=5, $orenRom +=5, $oren to true]]

<<if $chp8_53C6 is 1>> "Oren," you breathe as his mouth crashes against yours. His lips are warm and taste like salt as he kisses you deeply, like a man starved of food. You gasp into the kiss as his fingers curl around your neck and tilt your mouth towards his. His thumb traces a slow pattern along your jawline and you shudder, your lips parting as you let out a sharp breath. Sir Oren's tongue darts forward, suddenly filling the space between your parted lips as he kisses you hungrily. You taste honey and spices on his tongue and your head grows heavy with dizziness as you clutch his shoulders to keep from faltering under the heat that curls around your stomach. Your hands slide down his chest until they settle on his waist and you arch against his mouth. A moan slips past your lips as he kisses along your throat, his lips leaving a trail of heat in their wake. His fingertips press gently against the skin at the bottom of your neck, sending shivers up your spine. You push him back lightly, resting your forehead against his with wide eyes. Your breath comes shallowly as you glance at him. His eyes are dark with yearning and the look is enough to make you shiver. A smile curls at his mouth and he pulls away slightly, before kissing your forehead softly. <<elseif $chp8_53C6 is 2>> Your mouth seeks Sir Oren's in hunger as your fingers tangle against the strands of his dark hair at the nape of his neck. You let out a pleased hum when he presses against you, his arms slipping around your waist as though to keep you from pulling away. A laugh escapes you - you would never pull away from this moment, even if the Blood Guard attacked you now. "Oren," you breathe, your voice a harsh whisper of needy longing. "//Oren//." He pulls away, glancing at you with a concerned look. "Is something wrong?" You shake your head. "I only like the way your name sounds." He begins to respond but your swallow his voice as easily as it is to drink from a goblet. A low sound rumbles in his throat and it elicits goose pimples along your skin. Kissing him deeper, you part his lips with your tongue and whimper when he gives you access to his mouth. Your hands slide across his broad shoulders, sliding beneath the fabric of his tunic until they find bare skin. His breath catches in his throat at your touch but you do not stop there. Pressing against his chest, you feel his heart race under your hand and pull away, breathing hard as you press wet kisses along his throat and neck. Sir Oren groans before he grips your wrist, tugging your hand away. You stare at him, watching as his lips, still warm from your kiss, presses against the pulse point in your palm. A shudder grips you and you let out a breath as your eyes meet his. <<elseif $chp8_53C6 is 3>> "Oren," you repeat, enjoying the sound of his name on your lips as you press chaste kisses against his face. A breath escapes him as your lips graze the skin of his cheeks. He is warm under your lips and his fingers tighten around your waist as he draws you closer. As your lips trail lower, the scratch of his beard tickling your nose, you nip at the soft skin against the hollow of his throat. His pulse quickens beneath your lips and you can't help but grin into his neck as he lets out a low groan. You pull away for a moment, taken by Sir Oren's closed eyes and slightly parted lips. His chest heaves with each breath that he takes and his fingers curl around the material of your tunic, as though fearing you will pull away if he did not hold you so closely. Gently, you reach out and smooth your fingers against his face, enjoying the way his eyes flutter open to meet yours in longing. Sir Oren stares at you, his face filled with affection and you suddenly find it difficult to breathe. Your chest tightens around your thundering heartbeat and you whimper when he leans closer and presses a gentle peck against your forehead. "Oren," you mumble. His name comes unbidden and you shiver when he smiles against your skin. He pulls back, his thumb stroking your cheek, as he gazes at you. "You need only say my name and I am yours, $name." <<elseif $chp8_53C6 is 4>> A surprised breath escapes Sir Oren but his arms easily slip around your shoulders and draw you closer to his chest. You are grateful that he has asked you to use his name. Your chest swells with warmth and you are suddenly elated at the prospect. Pulling away, you gaze at him with a warm smile and you are pleased when you see your expression reflected on Sir Oren's face. "Oren," you murmur. His smile widens and he draws you back into his embrace. He is warm and his arms are taut as his muscles tighten to keep you close. Your fingers linger against his cheek before they drift lower and press against the broadness of his chest. Sir Oren's breath hitches and you stare in wonder when you feel his heartbeat thudding beneath your palm. There is a gentleness in the way that he holds you, as though you are fragile glass. Your ears are deafened by the sound of your rushing blood. His hold is warm and secure, filling you with a sense of protection. You tilt your face to meet his gaze and you find him already watching you with a soft smile. Leaning closer, he grasps the side of your face and presses a light kiss against the side of your temple. His lips do not linger and yet, even as he pulls away, you can still feel the outline of his mouth against your skin. <<elseif $chp8_53C6 is 5>> "Thank you for allowing me the honour, Oren," you respond, beaming widely at him. Sir Oren chuckles, the sound soft as he grips you tightly. "It is no honour, $name. I want you to use my name." You nod, still smiling widely as he draws closer to you. A warm hand traces over your cheekbone as he leans down to press a kiss against your forehead. You let out a small gasp of surprise, but it's not until he pulls away that you notice how fast your heartbeat is. His hazel eyes are almost black in the night and you cannot help but stare at him in sudden longing. Something in your expression must reveal your thoughts for Sir Oren steps closer and pulls you against his broad chest. A gasp escapes you as his heat slips over you, warming you until the chill of the night is replaced by his presence. "I care for you greatly, $name," Sir Oren breathes. "You honour me by using my name." Your eyes find his and you are breathless at the sincerity of his gaze and the affectionate smile on his lips. You grip his face, feeling the prickle of his beard against your palm, and press your face into the crook of his neck. "Then I will honour you, always, Oren," you murmur. <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_53C8]]

Eventually, Sir Oren pulls away from you, his face flushed with dark heat and he turns towards the direction of the garden. You smooth down your tunic, listening to your thundering heart as you stare at him. He must sense your gaze for Sir Oren turns to meet your eyes. He smiles softly and you inwardly chastise yourself for growing weak under his gaze. "It is late, $name," he murmurs. "I am afraid that I have kept you for far too long. Allow me to escort you to your room." You nod, unable to refuse when you find sleep pulling at the edges of your sight, threatening to weigh you down on the shore. Sir Oren casts you another smile before he grips your hand, leading you away from the sea and towards the revelry. His steps are deft as they navigate the crowd, drawing you towards the familiar hallway that houses your room. When you are standing before your door, Sir Oren turns to gaze at you and leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss against your cheek. "Sleep well, $name," he murmurs. You swallow, nodding before you slip into your room. Sir Oren does not leave until you are inside and he smiles once more before he departs. You stare after him for a moment and then, reluctantly, you return to your bed. Sleep beckons you but you are suddenly uncertain if you will find it when your mind is filled with thoughts of Sir Oren. [[Next.|chp8_end]]

<<if $chp8_53D is 1>> "You care about the people in Ishari," you murmur. "It is admirable that you do." Anu's lips press together into a thin line. You glance down to where her fingers tighten around her goblet before returning your gaze to her face. She does not speak for a moment, her grey eyes not meeting yours as she stares down at the table before you. You begin to think that she will not respond but before you can say anything, she speaks in a low voice that is filled with resolve. "Those people are //my// people," she murmurs. Her grey eyes dart towards you. "They are half your people too, regardless of who your father was." You open your mouth but no sound comes out. A twist of conflicting emotions tangles in your chest and you turn away from Anu's pointed stare, suddenly unwilling to broach the conversation about how you feel about Ishari and its people. Anu sighs then before she takes a deep gulp from her goblet. "I care because it is my home, $name," she explains. "Giving up will solve nothing and running away to another region will help no one. I was born in Ishari and if I die there then at least I know I died trying to protect my people." <<elseif $chp8_53D is 2>> "The war has influenced much in Ishari," you explain. "It will take time before anyone will be able to feast like this again." Wars do not come cheap and you are not foolish enough to believe that once the war is over that those in Ishari will be able to celebrate. Buildings have been destroyed and people have been displaced - most coin will likely be spent on rebuilding the homes of those who survive and any feast they might have will not be as grand as the the one before you for some time. Anu scowls at the table before she turns to look at you. "Do you know that before the Blood Guard destroyed our buildings and killed out people, they first set fires to the farms?" Your eyes widen. "No. I did not know." Now that she has begun talking, you notice the way her eyebrows press down against her forehead and her eyes harden with anger. The knuckles of her fingers tighten around the goblet and you notice a glint of fire in her gaze. "First was the farms," she mutters. "Then they attacked the temples with our knowledge. When there was nothing left, they took to destroying homes and killing our people." You do not speak, uncertain what you could say that will soothe her anger. Instead, you turn to stare at the garden and the guests who linger without worries. It is difficult not to feel Anu's envy over the feast in that moment for it seems that only those targeted by the Blood Guard have been harmed. <<elseif $chp8_53D is 3>> "Are you truly complaining about the lack of grand feasts?" you huff. "It seems that all your wealth sits with Princess Lamahu." You cannot stop the derisive tone in your voice as you turn to glare at Anu. There had been enough food during your visit to Princess Lamahu's palace and you remember the wealth that preceded your arrival. If there is any wealth left in Ishari then you are certain that it is housed in the palace. Anu meets your glare with her own. Her grey eyes flicker with gold and her teeth flash at you in a taunting smile. "Princess Lamahu has helped us with what she can. Giving up every coin she possesses would mean abandoning her palace." You scoff, "And what is wrong with that? People are suffering and all she does is sit protected behind her gilded walls. A leader should know what it is like to live like the poorest of their kingdom." A cruel laugh escapes Anu and she narrows her eyes at you. "Oh, is that why you follow your prince around? Because he lives like a beggar in exile?" She gestures around you. "His life is no less grand than Princess Lamahu's. The only difference is that he is travelling with //you//." Her lips twist in displeasure and you turn away from her mocking stare. You force away the pang of hurt that threatens to stab at your chest and stare at the table. There has been nothing grand about your journey with Prince Irus. You have fled the Blood Guard and been forced to endure the ache of losing everything you have ever known. //No.// You are certain that if Princess Lamahu was intent on winning the war, she would not have gathered her wealth around her in her palace while those at the borders of Cyre were left to suffer. <<elseif $chp8_53D is 4>> "I am sorry, Anu," you breathe, your heart constricting at the pain etched on her face. Your voice comes out breathless and you almost reach out to grasp her hand but stop, suddenly nervous with the thought of touching her. She is sad, you think, and yet your eyes drift towards her face. Her grey eyes meet yours and for a moment, a flicker of warmth slips into her gaze. Lips softening into a smile, Anu lets out an amused huff before she leans closer to where you stand. "What are you apologising for, $name?" she asks. "The war is not your burden nor is it your fault." You swallow and look away. Heat curls in your stomach and your breathing hitches at the scent of wine that taints her breath. Anu is so close that if you lift your hand, you would be able to brush her own with your fingers. When you do not respond, Anu's eyes crease at the corners and you realise that she is grinning at you. "Do I elicit warm thoughts from you?" she questions. Your cheeks grow warm. "What? I... Of course. I am concerned about you." Anu laughs then and the sound is loud and filled with joy. "That is not what I meant, $name." Her mouth grazes your ear and you jump in surprise when her breath tickles your skin. "You are so nervous around me. It is adorable." You stare at Anu with wide eyes as she withdraws from you. Her grin only widens at your expression before she hides it with the rim of her goblet. You struggle to gather your thoughts, turning away from her stare as your heartbeat thunders loudly under your chest. <<elseif $chp8_53D is 5>> "They will be able to feast once more," you reply, grinning at her. "Your strength and courage will help win the war." Your eyes drift to her exposed arms and you reach out to run your fingers against her skin. Anu's grey eyes dart towards you in mild surprise but she does not pull away. Instead, she leans into your touch and her lips curl into a wide smile. She is warm and her lips are stained by the dark wine in her goblet. "Were you only looking for a way to flirt with me?" she asks. You shrug, smirking at her before your withdraw your hand. "Perhaps." Anu chuckles and the sound that leaves her lips is nothing like the hard tone she used moments ago. She sounds //happy// and the pleased expression in her grey eyes only serves to draw you closer to where she stands. This close, you can feel the heat of her skin and smell the scent of smoky herbs that clings to her clothes. "I only speak the truth, Anu," you murmur. "You are determined to win this war and I am certain you will accomplish that." The laughter in Anu's eyes fade and her lips settle into a soft smile. "I admit that I am unused to such flirting." You raise your eyebrow. "Truly?" She shrugs. "There is a war going on and little time for niceties. It is far simpler roll around in a bed than to flirt, $name." Her eyes meet yours. "It is nice. I cannot say that I do not enjoy it." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_53D2]]

You both ease into a silence despite the chatter around you. The other guests seem to avoid Anu's presence and you suspect it is her glare and the hard scowl she casts them that keeps them at bay. As you stand together, you turn to gaze at the rest of the garden. Anu sighs and you catch her grey eyes slipping towards where Prince Irus stands. He still stands surrounded by a few of the guests and you catch him laughing at something that they said. Anu's eyebrows press together and you catch the way her lips pull downwards. She is not a loyal supporter of Prince Irus, but she is far less vocal against his lead than she had been when you first met. Anu must sense your stare because she sighs and turns to look at you. "What is it? You must want to say something." <<set $chp8_53D2 to 0>> [["You just seem more in favour of Prince Irus than before," you murmur.|chp8_53D3][$chp8_53D2 +=1]] [["Do you still think that Prince Irus will make a bad king?" you question.|chp8_53D3][$chp8_53D2 +=2]] [["You have come all this way with us," you state. "Your opinions on Prince Irus must have changed."|chp8_53D3][$chp8_53D2 +=3]]

<<if $chp8_53D2 is 1>> "You just seem more in favour of Prince Irus than before," you murmur. Anu scoffs at your response and tears her eyes away from Prince Irus. She looks at you as though you have told her that the war is over. Looking away from your stare, she raises her goblet to her lips and drinks deeply. You peer at her expression and note the way her fingers fidget at her side. She looks uncomfortable and turns to face you with a frown. "Do not be foolish," she mutters. "There is nothing different in the way that I see your prince." You gaze at her softly. "It is not a bad thing, Anu." She laughs and runs her hand through her short strands. "Is it not? He is the son of the king that started the entire war. Princess Lamahu might have agreed to an alliance but I am only concerned about ending the war." Your eyes shift towards where Prince Irus stands. "You do not provoke him as much as you used to." Anu frowns as though tasting something foul. "Perhaps it is something I should remedy so that you stop asking me these futile questions." <<elseif $chp8_53D2 is 2>> "Do you still think that Prince Irus will make a bad king?" you question. A breath escapes Anu's lips and for a moment, she does not reply. Instead, she takes a deep drink from her goblet before swiping at the droplets that stain her lips with the back of her hand. Turning to look at you, you find that Anu wears a frown and her eyebrows are furrowed as though is angry at your question. "He is a fool and knows nothing about winning in a battle," Anu states. "A good leader is not one who is necessarily a warrior," you reply. You expect Anu to retort or to snap at you for being too foolish to realise that Prince Irus is a bad leader. But Anu looks away from your gaze. Her lips part as though to reply but no words leave her lips. Her eyes narrow and she tightens her grip against her goblet. When she speaks, her voice is reluctant and stilted. "You are right," she mumbles. "I... I know that." Your eyes widen in surprise. "You do?" Anu turns to glare at you. "I am not ignorant, $name." She sighs. "Your prince is foolish and he is inexperienced. But he is better than the man who sits on Cyre's throne and if this is only way to win the war then so be it." <<elseif $chp8_53D2 is 3>> "You have come all this way with us," you state. "Your opinions on Prince Irus must have changed." Anu stares at you as though you have not spoken before she takes a deep drink from her goblet. You frown when she belches, the sound only muffled slightly by her hand. Around you, a few of the guests cast her aghast looks before they hurry away. She sneers at their retreat before turning to face you once more. "Nothing has changed," she mutters. "He is the same man I met in Urur and I am the same woman from then." You frown. "Yet, you do not argue or oppose him as much. Why?" Anu scowls. "What does it matter, $name?" Your shoulders lift up in a half-response before you find your words. "I am only curious. There must be something you see in Prince Irus that has softened the barbs on your tongue." A grumble escapes Anu and when she speaks, her tone is tainted with annoyance. "He is not at incompetent as I first thought." "Truly?" you ask, your eyes widening. Anu scowls. "He is still incompetent. Do not look so excited." She swallows the wine from her goblet, mumbling to herself but you manage to catch the end of her words. "...we are both fools for trusting him." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_53D4]]

Your conversation is soon swallowed by the sound of drumbeats, followed by the beginning of a low melody. You follow the sound towards its source and find a group of people, gathered in the middle of the open garden as they play their wooden instruments. Slowly, as though drawn towards the music, guests begin to take to the garden as they move languidly as they dance. Some dance with intricate steps, swirling around until all you can see is the blinding colours of their attire while there are those who seem to dance together in pairs. It is nothing like the dances you have seen before, for the expressions on the faces of the dancers are freer than your own, filled with joy and free of any turmoil. Anu makes a low sound in the back of her throat. You gaze at her and find a look of distaste on her face. "They call this dancing?" You frown. "What do you mean?" She gestures towards the garden and huffs. "In Ishari, we dance with purpose." Her eyes shift to meet yours. "It connects us to each other and the Ancient Ones." <<set $chp8_53D4 to 0>><<set $dance_level to 0>> [["I would not know," you murmur. "Dancing is not something I have done before."|chp8_53D5][$chp8_53D4 +=1, $dance_level +=1]] [["I have tried dancing before," you expain. "But it lacked any purpose."|chp8_53D5][$chp8_53D4 +=2, $dance_level +=2]] [["I suppose I have never been able to find out," you admit. "Dancing is something I enjoyed greatly but never with another."|chp8_53D5][$chp8_53D4 +=3, $dance_level +=3]]

<<if $chp8_53D4 is 1>> "I would not know," you murmur. "Dancing is not something I have done before." There had been no reason to dance in Salt Bay. You remember the nights of festivities and music but you were never welcomed into the dances. As you gaze at the crowd around you, your chest tightens at the knowledge that you have lived most of your life without experiencing what others already have. Anu raises a dark eyebrow at you though there is nothing unkind in her expression. "You have not danced? Not even alone?" You shake your head. "I had no reason to dance in Salt Bay." The look in her eyes softens slightly and when she speaks, there is a determined note in her voice. "Then dance with me, $name. I will show you the true purpose of it." <<elseif $chp8_53D4 is 2>> "I have tried dancing before," you expain. "But it lacked any purpose." When Anu speaks of dancing, there is a note of reverence in her voice but you cannot seem to understand it. Dancing had been something you attempted, following the faded instructions of an old book that Ahlf kept in the cottage but you had no reason for it. You knew of the dances in Salt Bay and the loud festivities but it was never something you were able to enjoy. "Of course it lacked purpose," Anu replies. She nods towards the garden full of dancers. "I suppose you tried to dance like this, without any thought or rhythm." "I... no," you respond. "It was nothing as grand as this." Anu gazes at you with a gleam in her grey eyes. "Let me show you what dancing is like, $name." <<elseif $chp8_53D4 is 3>> "I suppose I have never been able to find out," you admit. "Dancing is something I enjoyed greatly but never with another." Your time in Salt Bay had been filled with days of loneliness. You remember the festivities and cheering that you watched from afar, a pang of envy and sadness burrowing in your chest for you knew you were never welcome. The dances were always in the centre of the hamlet, the lanterns bright as you watched those who scorned you, laugh as they swirled around. It had been easier enough to pick up their steps after watching them for years and soon you danced too, only alone and in the safety of the cottage. Ahlf never said anything to you about it but you wonder now if he disapproved of your desire to join in the dances. "You danced alone?" Anu asks. You nod in response. "No one would dance with me even if I asked." Anu's lips pull downwards and she looks away for a moment. "Dance with me, $name. It is time that you had a partner." <</if>> Her question catches you by surprise. Anu does not waver under your stare nor does she tell you she is only jesting. You turn to look at the crowded garden once more, the music growing in tempo before your eyes return to the grey of Anu's gaze. [["Yes," you breathe. "I will dance with you."|chp8_53D6]] [["I do not wish to dance," you reply.|chp8_53D5a]]

"Yes," you breathe. "I will dance with you." Anu's smile widens and she reaches out, grasping your hands in hers. Her fingers smooth against the back of your knuckles and despite the strength you know she possesses, there is only gentleness in the way that she holds your hands. She leads you into the throng of dancers and you follow after her, your eyes taking in the sound of swishing fabric and the loudness of the drumbeats that mimic the pace of your heartbeat. When Anu stops, she turns to face you with a sharp grin. Her grey eyes are suddenly warmer, glinting like twin suns as she stares at you. You struggle to breathe and the hairs on the back of your neck prickle. The divinity in Anu flares brighter and you swallow a breath, nearly choking in her presence as she draws closer. "Tonight, we shall dance the way the deities intended it," she breathes. You stare at her glowing eyes and the eager smile on her mouth. She looks nothing like a warrior or a priestess for those words are not enough to describe the fire in her gaze or the unseen power of her touch. <<set $chp8_53D6 to 0>> [[You take her hands as she leads you into a dance.|chp8_53D7][$chp8_53D6 +=1]] [[You grip her close as you pull her into a dance.|chp8_53D7][$chp8_53D6 +=2]]

"I do not wish to dance," you reply. Your voice is a mumbled sound and you turn away from the deepening frown on Anu's face. What is it that holds you back from dancing tonight? Your eyes take in the rest of the garden and your skin itches with the humidity of the dancers around you. They are laughing and they are happy. But you find yourself unwilling to join them. "Scared you will make a fool of yourself?" Anu asks. Your eyebrows furrow. "No. That is not-" She interrupts you with a wave of her hand. "I was only teasing, $name. You need not explain your reasons to me." You stare at her in sudden gratitude and Anu notices your expression. She smiles slightly and the usually hard expression on her face is replaced with something far softer and gentler than you are accustomed to seeing. <<if $relationship is false and $anuRom gte 30>>"The night is still early," she murmurs. "I had been planning to spend it looking for any threats. Would you care to join me?" "Will I not distract you?" you ask, your eyes meeting hers. Anu grins. "I had hoped you would." You stare at her and the teasing in her grey eyes. There is nothing coy about the insinuation of her words or the hungry look on her expression. It tugs at your chest, causing your heartbeat to quicken as you meet Anu's stare. [["Yes," you breathe. "I will join you."|chp8_53D8]] [["I am sorry," you murmur. "But I was hoping to retire for the night."|chp8_53D5a_end]]<<else>>"I will take my leave of you," Anu states. She scowls at the rest of the guests. "They are unaware of the dangers of the war and I have no need to join them in their ignorance." You frown slightly at her words but you do not say anything as Anu nods slightly towards you and strides away from the garden. Your eyes follow her figure for a moment before she is swallowed by the crowd and with a tired sigh, you turn and make your way towards your room. Tiredness pulls at the corners of your mind and you suddenly long for nothing but sleep. [[Next.|chp8_end]]<</if>>

"I am sorry," you murmur. "But I was hoping to retire for the night." Anu stares at you for a moment before she nods in understanding. The day and the travels have made you weary. Your limbs are heavy and a dull ache presses against your eyes. As you look at Anu, you find her already watching you with a look that makes your stomach tighten. "I shall walk with you to your room in that case," she explains. "I had been planning on keeping guard of any threats." You frown. "Are you certain? I do not-" Anu scoffs and reaches out to grab your hand. Her fingers are warm and her grasp tightens around your hand. "I would not have offered if I did not intend on walking with you, $name." She leaves you no time to respond and tugs you with her as she strides through the garden. The dancers around you stumble away from Anu's glare. Despite the severe expression on her face, her grip is gentle on your hand as she leads you into the familiar hallway where your room is housed. Slowly, you walk together towards the door to your room. You move to pull away when you reach it, but Anu does not allow it. She holds your hand tightly and keeps pace until you enter the room. She stops inside the doorway, releasing your hand as she crosses her arms over her chest. "Rest well tonight, $name. I will see you in the morning." She departs before you can respond, leaving you with a slight flush of heat on your cheeks and the pounding of your heartbeat. There was nothing //untoward// about your interaction and yet, you suddenly find that it is very difficult to find sleep when your mind is consumed with thoughts of Anu. [[Next.|chp8_end]]

<<if $chp8_53D6 is 1>> Anu only smiles wider as her fingers tighten around your arms. She draws you close so that you can breathe the scent of her skin and feel the heat of her body. Her eyes glow brightly but they do not hurt you, not now when you are both are moving together, the garden around you blurring until the only thing you can see is the fire in her gaze. The music around you surges as the drumbeats grow louder with each moment that passes. Anu spins away from you but her fingers never let go of your wrists. She grins, her teeth glinting under the glow of the flickering lanterns and the brightness of her eyes swells until your breathing hitches. She draws closer, her feet skilled as they avoid trampling your feet before she leans closer to you. <<if $anuRom gte 30>>"Do you feel it, my sweet?" she asks. "Does your blood pulse for me?" You stare at her open-mouthed and dazed. Heat cascades across your skin, causing a warm flush to curl in your chest. You cannot look away from Anu's stare and even if you could, you would not turn away from her. She smirks and leans forward, her lips brushing against yours for the gentlest of kisses. It sends a thrill of heat through you and <<if $dance_level is 1>>you stumble, gripping her tightly to keep from falling.<<elseif $dance_level is 2>>your hands hold onto her as you struggle to keep up with her dancing.<<elseif $dance_level is 3>>your dance continues even as she kisses you.<</if>><<else>>"This is what dancing is supposed to be, $name," Anu breathes. "Do you feel the fire in your blood?" You almost laugh at her question but the faint heat that spreads through your limbs stops your words. A breath escapes you and you stare at Anu, suddenly struck by the brightness of her gaze. The grey of her irises are almost gone, replaced by a golden glow that rivals the flames of the lanterns above you. Anu pulls you into a frenetic spin and <<if $dance_level is 1>>you stumble, nearly colliding into her as you struggle to keep up with her steps.<<elseif $dance_level is 2>>manage to keep yourself from tipping forward as you follow her steps.<<elseif $dance_level is 3>>grin as you keep up with her quickening pace.<</if>><</if>> The music grows louder until there is only the sound of the thunderous drumbeats in your ears and the sight of Anu's glowing eyes. You move together, your breathing ragged and your skin sticky with sweat but you find yourself unwilling to stop. It is not long before the song draws to an end and you stop, your eyes wide as you stare at Anu. <<elseif $chp8_53D6 is 2>> Your confidence or perhaps it is foolishness, you think, does not go unnoticed by Anu as you drag her closer to you. Her hands settle against your waist and her teeth glint under the flickering lanterns as she stares at you with golden eyes. For a moment, you cannot look away from her stare for she is suddenly more than a woman. She is a goddess made into flesh and you find your throat constricting as you struggle to breathe. Anu grins and she leans closer to you. <<if $anuRom gte 30>>"Breathe, my sweet. I will not hurt you."<<else>>"Focus on the dance, $name. My divinity will not harm you tonight."<</if>> Her words soothe the raging storm in your mind and you gasp, nearly choking as you swallow mouthfuls of air. Anu peers at you closely but there is an amused smile on her lips as though you are a child in need of caring. You frown and your grip on her tightens. Refusing to succumb to her teasing, you pull her forward and into a frenetic dance. Anu, you realise, dances with the strength of a lioness. Her legs move with purposeful strides and her arms do not falter from your hold. She grins at you and the sight would have sent a lesser person fleeing in terror for in that moment, she does not look anything like the woman you know. You spin together, the music swelling around you and you <<if $dance_level is 1>>stumble, despite your best efforts to maintain your quick pace.<<elseif $dance_level is 2>>nearly trip over your feet but you catch yourself before you fall.<<elseif $dance_level is 3>>grin as you lead Anu into an effortless dance.<</if>> The music grows to a deafening crescendo and all at once, it stops. Your tunic sticks to your skin and you stare at Anu, finding that she is breathing as fast as you are. She meets your gaze and you find that her once grey eyes are filled with gold. <</if>> Anu slowly disentangles from you and runs a hand through her hair. When she turns to look at you once more, her eyes are no longer as bright as they were only seconds earlier. She stares at you with a slight smile, her expression mirthful before she speaks. <<if $anuRom gte 30>>"The night need not end here, $name. I had been planning on spending it away from the chaos of the feast in search of threats. But I would rather spend it with you. Join me, my sweet," she murmurs. [["Yes," you breathe. "I will join you."|chp8_53D8]] [["I am sorry," you murmur. "But I was hoping to retire for the night."|chp8_53D5a_end]]<<else>>"Thank you for dancing with me, $name," Anu breathes. She bows slightly, her grin still lingering on her lips. "I shall take my leave of you." You nod in response and watch as she turns away from you. Her strides are long and cut through the crowd with ease. Your gaze follows her for a moment before you turn away. Sleep tugs at the corners of your mind and you exhale deeply before you turn away and make your way towards your room. [[Next.|chp8_end]]<</if>>

"Yes," you breathe. "I will join you." Anu's grey eyes flicker with warmth and she draws towards you, her fingers grazing the sides of your face as she leans closer. Her breath is still faster than usual, from the exertion of the dance or perhaps for another reason, but the thought is quickly forgotten when her lips press gently against your cheek. Her mouth is warm and the kiss is over before you can comprehend what is happening. Pulling away, Anu slips her fingers through yours so that the heat of her palm envelops you. Without speaking, she tugs you away from the garden and towards the stone building beyond the garden's edge. You do not ask where she is taking you, for you would follow her even if you did not. Leading you into the darkened hallways, she seems to navigate through the expanse of the building with ease and you wonder if she has already explored the building without Dena realising it. She tugs you up a stairwell until you both reach a small room with windows overlooking the rest of the island and the sea. The moonlight casts long shadows on the floor, making the room appear almost empty except for Anu who turns to look at you. Her lips tug into a smile when she realises that you are staring at her. "I found this place earlier," she explains. "It provides a good vantage point of the island. I like being able to see the stars. Especially on nights like these." Her voice is soft but the expression in her eyes flickers between warmth and sorrow as if the stars serves to bring unwanted memories to the fore. You squeeze her fingers and Anu turns to look at you with a small smile. <<set $chp8_53D8 to 0>> [["I used to watch the stars too, when I was in Salt Bay," you reply. "It made me feel less alone."|chp8_53D9][$chp8_53D8 +=1, $anuRel +=5, $anuRom +=5]] [["You seem saddened by something," you murmur.|chp8_53D9][$chp8_53D8 +=2, $anuRel +=5, $anuRom +=5]] [["Thank you for bringing me here," you respond. "I enjoy gazing at the night sky too."|chp8_53D9][$chp8_53D8 +=3, $anuRel +=5, $anuRom +=5]]

<<if $chp8_53D8 is 1>> "I used to watch the stars too, when I was in Salt Bay," you reply. "It made me feel less alone." You never had friends growing up nor did you ever find a way to soothe the pang of loneliness in your chest. However, the stars never turned away from you. Even during nights of thunderstorms, you knew that high above the thick clouds, the stars were still there, following the same pattern of movement they always did. "Can I confess something?" Anu asks. Your eyes meet hers and you nod. "You can tell anything, Anu." She smiles and there is a glimmer of sadness in her expression. "I was alone too after my parents died. For a long time, I would sit and stare at the stars, praying that my parents would find a way to speak to me but they never did." "Anu, I am sorry," you breathe. She shakes her head and squeezes your hand. "It is alright. The stars have brought me to you and I suppose it is the only thing that matters now." <<elseif $chp8_53D8 is 2>> "You seem saddened by something," you murmur. Her grey eyes turn away from you for a moment and you catch the sound of the shuddering breath that leaves her. The sadness in her expression consumes her features until there is nothing but pain left. You frown as you stare at her. Her expression reminds you of the nights you spent mourning your mother's absence as a child and the days you wished that she never left you behind. Anu speaks and the sound of her voice draws your attention to her face. She looks at you once more and you find that there is a bitter smile on her lips. "My parents faught in the war before I was born," she explains. "When they were killed, I had to flee to Urur in hopes of escaping the Blood Guard. I was certain they would find me and kill me too." She gazes at the sky beyond the windows. "It was the stars that helped me find my way in the dark. I remembered the patterns my mother used to navigate and they led me to the temple." "They saved you," you breathe. Her smile softens slightly and she turns to look at you. "They did." <<elseif $chp8_53D8 is 3>> "Thank you for bringing me here," you respond. "I enjoy gazing at the night sky too." When you were still a child and Ahlf would take you out to sea, far too early for the sun to cast away the stars, you would stare at them from the small dinghy. They were always present, like the comforting hand of a friend as you watched them in silence. You grew to enjoy gazing at the stars and you find yourself looking towards the sky now, smiling at the unbidden memory. Anu tilts her head and she raises an eyebrow in curiosity. "Your father... I heard that he was a fisherman in Salt Bay." You nod. "He was. Why do you ask?" She smooths her fingers across your cheek. "I only wondered if you spent your nights out sea then, watching the same stars that I did in Urur." Your breath catches. "I suppose we did." "Then I have the stars to thank for bringing you to me," she whispers. <</if>> A gentle hush falls over the both of you and you find yourself staring at Anu. Her grey eyes travel over your features, settling on your lips before she looks up, meeting your gaze. There are no words spoken but in that moment, you do not need to speak to know what Anu is feeling. <<set $chp8_53D9 to 0>> [[Anu closes the distance and kisses you deeply.|chp8_53D10][$chp8_53D9 +=1, $anuRom +=5]] [[You draw Anu's mouth to yours as you kiss her with yearning.|chp8_53D10][$chp8_53D9 +=2, $anuRom +=5]] [["You are breathtaking," you whisper, taking in the affection in her gaze.|chp8_53D10][$chp8_53D9 +=3, $anuRom +=5]] [[You lean closer as you breathe in her scent; your arms tightening around her body.|chp8_53D10][$chp8_53D9 +=4, $anuRom +=5]] [[You shiver as Anu presses chaste kisses along your cheeks and forehead.|chp8_53D10][$chp8_53D9 +=5, $anuRom +=5]]

<<if $chp8_53D9 is 1>> The kiss is a devouring clash of teeth and lips. Anu surges towards you, her fingers tugging you closer as if to never let you go. You respond, pressing against her body and wrapping your arms around her waist. Your fingers thread through the hair at the nape of her neck and it elicits a moan from Anu. She pulls away and you almost follow her mouth but Anu holds your face in both of her hands, stopping you from seeking her mouth. Her grey eyes are dark with hunger and she pauses, taking in your expression before she leans closer once more and kisses you. She takes her time and despite your desperation, you fall into the kiss as her tongue darts across the seam of your lips in a languid pattern. A gasp escapes you and it is all the permission that Anu needs before her tongue is delving between your parted lips. Your heartbeat is erratic and your stomach coils as heat spreads through you. Anu kisses you languidly, as if savouring your taste and you feel her grin against your mouth when you shudder against her. The kiss threatens to consume all your thoughts as your legs grow weak under you. Your breathing is sharp as Anu draws away, placing soft kisses along the hollow of your throat. An incoherent plea escapes you and Anu quickly swallows the sound with her lips and you lean into her hold. <<elseif $chp8_53D9 is 2>> Your fingers grasp the sides of Anu's face and you pull her closer. She stares at you for a moment before leaning into your touch as she meets your lips halfway. The kiss is ferocious and deep. All at once, your head swims with dizziness as heat coils low in your stomach. Her fingers tangle in the material of your tunic and you shudder when they scrape the skin of your torso beneath it. Leaning forward, you slip your tongue against her lips and she exhales sharply under your touch. Your hand tangles in her dark strands at the nape of her neck and you tilt your face slightly, deepening the kiss as Anu moans into your mouth. She is warm and when your tongues meet, you are consumed by only by thoughts of her. Her mouth tastes like wine and her fingers tighten against you as she draws you closer. Pressed like this, you can feel the strength of her muscles and the heat of her skin. It is enough to make you gasp and you pull away, suddenly panting for breath. Anu's fingers splay across your cheek and she stares at you. Her lips are swollen from your shared kiss and her eyes are dark with a glimmer of hunger. She leans forward again, her mouth soft and pliable as she kisses you gently. <<elseif $chp8_53D9 is 3>> "You are breathtaking," you whisper, taking in the affection in her gaze. As the words leave your lips, you find yourself taken by the softness of Anu's expression. She looks at you with yearning, indifferent your heritage and your past and draws you closer to her chest. Her skin is flushed with warmth against you and you sigh, basking in the embrace as her grey eyes trace over your face. "As are you, my sweet," she murmurs. You close your eyes as you bask in the comfort of Anu's arms. The sound of the sea and the revelry below drowns out any other sound that might disturb this moment. There is no sound except for Anu's breathing and yours, as you hold each other close. Breathing in, you smell the faint trace of herbs on her robes and you nuzzle closer. Anu laughs softly and the sound is a throaty breath. Withdrawing slightly, Anu meets your gaze and you find a look of affection in her grey eyes. It causes your stomach to lurch and you swallow a breath, unwilling to look away for fear that her expression will disappear if you do. <<elseif $chp8_53D9 is 4>> Anu smells of wine and herbs, a heady combination that makes you exhale sharply against her neck. Her arms slip around your waist and you feel the press of her lips against your ear. She does not speak, instead, she pulls you even closer into the embrace. Pressed together like this, you can feel the strength of her hold, as though she is afraid that if she lets go, you will pull away. You nuzzle the side of her neck and the brush of your mouth against Anu's skin elicits a sharp breath from her. Your hand slips up and down the small of her back, soothing the tension there, until Anu relaxes completely against you and pulls you even closer. You do not know how long you stand together in silence, only that it feels like hours with neither of you pulling away. It is Anu who pulls away slightly, her arms still holding you close as her eyes meet yours. "You smell nice," she murmurs. Her lips pull into a smile. "Like the sea." A surprised laugh escapes you and the hush is broken when Anu joins in with her own laughter. It is a melodic sound that is made even better when her lips press against the side of your face. <<elseif $chp8_53D9 is 5>> Her lips are soft against your skin and you gasp as your heartbeat thunders loudly under your chest. There is nothing demanding in the way that Anu holds you, as though she is content to simply languish in your warmth as she presses her mouth along the side of your face. You close your eyes against her kisses, for they are gentle and soft as she presses her mouth against your forehead. Her fingers curl around the sides of your face and her touch elicits a whimper from deep within your throat. She laughs softly and pulls away slightly to meet your gaze. Her grey eyes are filled with a tender expression that sends a shiver down your spine. You reach up to trace the contour of her cheeks before cupping the back of her head and pulling her close again. "Anu," you whisper, your voice a desperate plea. Her eyes darken with hunger and she leans closer so that her lips brush against yours. "The look in your eyes is maddening, my sweet." You begin to speak but she silences you by closing the distance between your lips. The kiss is soft, a gentle touch of heat that causes your fingers to tighten in their hold against Anu. When she withdraws from the peck, you turn to stare at her, your heart galloping under your chest. <</if>> Anu eventually pulls away from you and you mourn the absence of her warmth almost immediately. She sighs and gazes at you with a look of remorse and when she speaks, her voice is tinged with deep reluctance. "I am afraid that I cannot remain here like this, my sweet," she breathes. Her fingers curl around your face. "I promised to speak with the warriors who accompanied us." You nod. "I understand." She smiles and her fingers slip against yours. "Allow me to walk you back to your room instead as a thank you for joining me tonight." [[Next.|chp8_53D11]]

Anu leads you away from the small room and you quickly descend the stairs until the loudness of the festivities reaches your ears once more. Her fingers are warm against yours and you shiver as her thumb strokes a searing pattern against your palm. She smiles at you and your breathing hitches when you notice the affection in her grey eyes. Together, you walk through the hallways until you are greeted by the familiar surroundings of where your room is housed. Anu walks with you, her grasp warm and comforting until you reach the door to your room. She watches you, unmoving until you step into your room and when you turn to bid her a good night, she closes the distance between you and captures your mouth in her own. "Sleep well, my sweet," she murmurs. "I do hope you dream of me tonight for I know your face will be the only one that I will think of." She draws away, smiling at you for a moment before she strides down the hallway and out of sight. You swallow a breath, your chest swelling as the lingering touch of her lips on yours steals your thoughts. As you slip into bed, you can do no more than drift into a sleep with the memory of Anu's kiss. [[Next.|chp8_end]]

<<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "chp8_romance" loop play>>Prince Irus' room is only a few doors away from your own. As you step into the silent hallway, noting the dim glow of the lanterns and the shadows that fall across the walls, you turn to glance at Prince Irus. His face is warm under the ember flames and you catch it reflecting against his blue eyes, as though they are a part of the sunlit sea. He does not speak as he meets your eyes and instead, pushes open the wooden door to his room. You follow after him, his grasp on your hand releasing as he closes the door behind the both of you. The latch clicks softly and you turn away, taking in the rest of his room. Like yours, his room overlooks the sea. Your eyes slip over the furnishings of his room, taking note of the large bed that rests against the far side of the wall and the small table that sits beside the open window. Prince Irus brushes against you as he takes a seat on his bed. The mattress dips beneath his weight but your attention is soon drawn by the curve of his lips. "Come here, $name," he calls. <<set $chp8_53A6 to 0>> [[You grow warm as you approach him.|chp8_53A7][$chp8_53A6 +=1]] [[You eagerly curl against him on the bed.|chp8_53A7][$chp8_53A6 +=2]] [[As you sit against the bed, you pull Prince Irus into your hold.|chp8_53A7][$chp8_53A6 +=3]]

<<if $chp8_53A6 is 1>> Your heart thuds erratically under your chest. Heat, burning like flames, lick at your skin and you shudder as you move to sit against the mattress. Prince Irus' gaze follows your movements and suddenly, you can do nothing but stare at him in open wonder. Your breath catches in the back of your throat as his fingers slip around your waist. His blue eyes graze over your features before it settles against your mouth. You swallow. Your ears roar with the sound of your rushing blood. The music of the feast is all but gone, replaced only with your sharp breaths and thundering heartbeat. "Sit closer to me, Beloved," he breathes. There is a husky quality to his voice that stirs a thread of coiling heat deep within you. You are trembling and your breathing is a furious rhythm that matches the sound of your heartbeat. You cannot move. Prince Irus' gaze softens and he pulls you closer to him, his face burying deep against the crook of your neck as he holds you tightly. <<elseif $chp8_53A6 is 2>> Yearning and anticipation draw you towards Prince Irus. Your eyes meet his and you are suddenly struck by the longing on his face. He wants you as much as you want him and the thought is enough to cause your heartbeat to quicken. As you approach him, your fingers reach out to grip the side of Prince Irus' face. He grins, turning to press a close-mouthed kiss against the inside of your wrist before he draws you into his hold. You stare at him, taken by the softness in his blue gaze and the way his fingers press against your hips. He is warm against you and the tilt of his lips causes a shudder to slip down your back. "$name," he murmurs, his mouth finding the sensitive flesh behind your ear. Your name comes out whispered and you arch into his hold as your hands find purchase around his shoulders. His hands move lower, tracing up the sides of your thighs and you bite back your voice that threatens to escape from your lips. His touch is consuming and you shiver when you turn to gaze at him. <<elseif $chp8_53A6 is 3>> Your feet carry you towards Prince Irus, as if taken hold by a trance. Sinking against the soft mattress, you reach out towards Prince Irus and draw him towards you. His eyes widen in surprise before a flicker of amusement fills the blue depths of his gaze. He falls into your embrace easily, half-leaning against you as his hands move to settle against your hips. His thumb strokes gently at your waist, before it darts to the exposed skin of your stomach where your tunic has lifted. Your pulse thrums under your skin and your eyes drop to where you press against each other. Prince Irus is warm and you breathe in shakily, dropping your head against his shoulder as you turn to stare at him. A smile pulls at his lips as he gazes at you. "You are mine tonight, Beloved." You hear the unspoken vow between the two syllables of his words and feel the sincerity behind them as they roll off his tongue. You want to reply but you cannot find any words, so you simply nod, reaching up to cup his cheek with one hand. You trace the shape of his face with your fingers and gasp when his mouth presses against your forehead. <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_53A8]]

You do not know how long you both remain together on his bed, only that when he pulls away to stare at you, you cannot look away. Prince Irus' fingers shift from your hips, sliding over the material of your tunic to grip the edge of your jaw before his fingers settle against your face. Being here with Prince Irus is enough to cast away all other thoughts. His warmth envelops you and you press closer into his hold. Leaning closer, he kisses your forehead before pulling back to gaze deeply into your eyes. You are taken aback by the intensity of the emotions within his blue eyes for they swirl with the heat of his love and the longing you are certain is reflected in your own gaze. "I love you, $name," he breathes. "I will love you until my last breath." There is a hush in his voice though you hear him loudly. His words reverberate through your ears and settle deeply against your chest. You shiver as his thumbs trace the underside of your wrist and when you turn to meet his gaze, you find him staring at you with unveiled desire. <<set $chp8_53A8 to 0>> [["Hold me close," you breathe.|chp8_53A8_fluff][$chp8_53A8 +=1]] //<<linkreplace "''(?)''" t8n>>This choice leads to non-sexual content.<</linkreplace>>// [["I need to feel you," you plead, drawing him closer.|chp8_53A8_sex][$chp8_53A8 +=2]] //<<linkreplace "''(?)''" t8n>>This choice leads to sexual content.<</linkreplace>>// [["Irus," you mumble, wanting more from him.|chp8_53A8_sex][$chp8_53A8 +=3]] //<<linkreplace "''(?)''" t8n>>This choice leads to sexual content.<</linkreplace>>//

When you nod, Prince Irus lets out a sharp breath. His fingers graze along your cheek, drawing you closer until you can smell the sweetness of the tea on his lips and see the light freckles that dot the bridge of his nose. You become aware that you are both on his bed, the cot narrow and small, forcing you closer. "You are mesmerising, $name," he breathes. Your name rolls off his tongue effortlessly as if it belongs there the way his favourite dessert might linger on his lips, the sound of his voice reverent. You shudder when he draws you even closer so that you are almost on top of his lap, his strong arms holding you close. "Tell me what you need," Prince Irus murmurs. He gazes at you, his eyes full of affection. <<set $chp5_71a11 to 0>><<set $irus_sex to false>><<set $irus_stay to false>> [["I want to just lie here with you," you breathe.|chp5_71_irus_ROM][$irus_stay to true]] //<<linkreplace "''(?)''" t8n>>This choice leads to non-sexual content.<</linkreplace>>// [["I want you," you breathe, staring at his mouth.|chp5_71_irus_SEX][$chp5_71a11 +=1, $irus_sex to true]] //<<linkreplace "''(?)''" t8n>>This choice leads to sexual content.<</linkreplace>>// [["I... I..." you stammer, too shy to voice what you want.|chp5_71_irus_SEX][$chp5_71a11 +=2, $irus_sex to true]] //<<linkreplace "''(?)''" t8n>>This choice leads to sexual content.<</linkreplace>>//

<<if $chp8_53A8 is 2>> "I need to feel you," you plead, drawing him closer. Your words are urgent and your fingers pull at his shoulders before they slip behind his neck. There is no hesitation in his blue eyes as he leans forward to kiss you. Hunger, nothing like you have ever known, forms in the pit of your stomach. It consumes you as you taste Prince Irus' tongue and feel his hands tugging at the clasps of your tunic. <<elseif $chp8_53A8 is 3>> "Irus," you mumble, wanting more from him. You cannot seem to voice the want that you feel. It causes your face to grow hotter under Prince Irus' gaze. He leans forward so that his forehead touches yours and when his hands move to cup your face, you close your eyes in anticipation. Your heart hammers against your ribcage, suddenly longing with need. Prince Irus tilts his head forward and captures your mouth in a searing kiss. Your stomach tightens and you are suddenly kissing him back. <</if>> The kiss threatens to become more than just a kiss and from the way Prince Irus presses into you, you become aware of the hardness of his form and his desire for you. As his lips trail across the expanse of your neck, his tongue darting to taste your skin, you let out a ragged breath and fall against the mattress. He pulls away for a moment, his fingers grasping your chin as his eyes meet yours. As he gazes down at you, you are struck by the longing in his expression. He draws closer to you, his mouth finding yours as he licks a pattern of fire along your lower lip. Your head grows dizzy with arousal, your eyes closing against Prince Irus' touch as he leans atop you. [[You give yourself to him.|chp8_53A8_sex_fade]] //<<linkreplace "''(?)''" t8n>>This choice leads to fade-to-black sexual content.<</linkreplace>>// [[You give yourself to him.|chp8_53A8_sex1]] //<<linkreplace "''(?)''" t8n>>This choice leads to explicit sexual content.<</linkreplace>>//

Your words are scarcely out of your mouth when Prince Irus draws you into his chest. He exhales deeply and his breath brushes down the back of your neck. You are never more aware of him than when he holds you like this and the feeling encompasses your entire body. He pulls away for a moment to gaze at your face and you find him watching you with a look of reverence. A myriad of emotions pass over his features. It is affection, in the way that his lips curve softly into a smile; it is longing, from the warmth in his blue eyes and it is love, from the way that his fingers smooth over your skin. As you stare at him, it is difficult to think of anything else, not when he smiles so gently at you. <<set $chp8_53A8_fluff to 0>> [[You brush away the strands of his blond hair and press a soft kiss against his forehead.|chp8_53A8_fluff1][$chp8_53A8_fluff +=1]] [["What made you fall in love with me?" you ask as you intertwine your fingers with his.|chp8_53A8_fluff1][$chp8_53A8_fluff +=2]] [["When I am with you, I can think of nothing else," you confess before you kiss his lips.|chp8_53A8_fluff1][$chp8_53A8_fluff +=3]]

<<if $chp8_53A8_fluff is 1>>His hair has grown out since you first met him. The strands are light, like spun gold, as you smooth them away from Prince Irus' forehead. He reaches out and grips your wrist. The pads of his fingers trace a slow pattern against your skin <<if $chp7_burn is true>>before they pause against the scar on your skin. He turns your palm towards his lips and kisses the discoloured skin gently.<<else>>before they settle against your quickening pulse.<</if>> Prince Irus' blue eyes pull away from your hand and he turns to look at you once more. Your wrist is still grasped loosely between his fingers, the heat of his touch enough to sear your skin, as you lean forward. Prince Irus' smile widens at your proximity. The sight causes your skin to erupt in goose pimples - to draw you even closer. Your mouth presses against his forehead and you feel his breath against your chin as he sighs. As you begin to withdraw, Prince Irus' arms tighten around your torso and he turns to stare at you with pleading eyes. "Stay like this," he murmurs. <<elseif $chp8_53A8_fluff is 2>>"What made you fall in love with me?" you ask as you intertwine your fingers with his. Your question seems to surprise Prince Irus for he turns to look at you with slightly raised eyebrows. You tilt your head to one side, half-curious and half-desperate to know his answer. When you first fled together, you had never thought that you would be the cause for Prince Irus' strong emotions and yet, as you gaze at the softness in his blue gaze, you do not think a life without his love would ever make sense. A moment passes before Prince Irus' lips quirk into a teasing grin. "Many things." He says no more and you frown before you flick his forehead with your forefinger. A sound that is nearly a laugh escapes his lips and he grips your hand, pulling it away so that you cannot flick him once more. He smiles at you again, leaning forward so that his mouth presses against the outline of your ear before he speaks in a low whisper. "I have never loved another before, $name. It has only been you," Prince Irus breathes. "I fell in love with the way you smile at me as though I am already a leader in your eyes. It is the way you hold me close when I am near." He draws back and tugs your hand over his heartbeat. "But it is the way you make me feel whenever I think about you. That is why I love you." <<elseif $chp8_53A8_fluff is 3>>"When I am with you, I can think of nothing else," you confess before you kiss his lips. You do not give him an opportunity to speak for you lean forward and drink in his voice. A low rumble in the back of Prince Irus' throat urges you forward. Your fingers tangle in the strands of his hair as you tug him closer. His chest is warm and you lean into his hold, enjoying the heat that spills across your back as his fingers press into your skin. The kiss is slow, nearly tender, but as your lips part and you taste the heat of Prince Irus' tongue, a deep moan escapes your mouth. You kiss him hungrily, in need of more, as your breaths become pants and your head grows heavy with want. Deepening the kiss, Prince Irus' tongue traces rough patterns against yours and you shudder as heat swirls deep within your stomach. Eventually, he pulls away slightly only to place his forehead against yours. Both of his arms wrap around you and he tugs you towards where he sits, so that his legs press against yours. The warmth from his body seeps through your tunic and touches you with every breath. You shiver when he places light kisses on your neck, his lips soft and ticklish as they cover your skin. "What about when I am not with you?" he asks, pulling away to smirk at you. "Do you think about me then?" Your fingers curl against his face. "Yes. I think about you always." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_53A8_fluff2]]

It is not long before Prince Irus is pulling you to lie beside him. The bed is large enough to fit the both of you comfortably, but you find yourself tangled together, lying in the middle of the heavy quilts and high pillows. He turns onto his side and faces you with an expression full of fondness. You stare at him, unwilling to look away as your fingers slip over his scratchy cheek. He smiles then, a soft expression that threatens to steal your breath and you bury yourself against his hold. A chuckle spills past his lips and you pull away only to catch the mirth in his blue eyes. "What is it?" you ask. Prince Irus sits up, leaning his weight against his elbows as he gazes at you. "Are we to sleep in our boots and outerwear?" There is a teasing note in his voice that causes you to smile in response. You glance down and find that in your desire to be with him, you had forgotten that you were still wearing the heavy boots on your feet and the tunic, once loose, now clings in creased folds against your torso and arms. <<set $chp8_53A8_fluff2 to 0>> [["Allow me to help you," Prince Irus murmurs.|chp8_53A8_fluff3][$chp8_53A8_fluff2 +=1]] [[You begin to unlace your boots and pull away at your clothes.|chp8_53A8_fluff3][$chp8_53A8_fluff2 +=2]] [["Shall I undress you, Your Highness?" you ask, your palms pressing against his chest.|chp8_53A8_fluff3][$chp8_53A8_fluff2 +=3]]

<<if $chp8_53A8_fluff2 is 1>> "Irus, you do not have to," you mumble. He is already reaching out for your feet, his fingers deft as they unlace your boots and tugs them free. A sharp breath escapes you as his fingers press against the soles of your feet. You shiver and Prince Irus pauses, turning his blue eyes onto your face once more. He stares at you like a man who is finally seeing the sun after years spent in darkness. "Allow me to take care of you, Beloved," he breathes. He pushes you against the mattress so that you are lying on your back. "You deserve a night of rest." You bite down on your lower lip as his fingers begin to unfasten the clasps of your tunic. How can you rest when he is so close? Your heartbeat thunders loudly under your chest and you fear that from the way that Prince Irus smiles at you that he can hear it too. Gently, he tugs away your tunic to reveal your undershirt. You shiver, despite the heat of the room as his fingers graze over your exposed skin. He is gentle as his fingers trace over the dip of your hips and towards the wasitband of your trousers. Slowly, he tugs away your trousers until you are in nothing but your underclothes. He pauses, taking in your form before he smiles. "You are perfect, Beloved." <<elseif $chp8_53A8_fluff2 is 2>> Is it eagerness to lie beside him once more that causes your fingers to pull away at your boots and tunic? You cannot know for certain, for you are too consumed by the way Prince Irus' blue eyes follow your form as you undress. First, you lean over to unlace your boots, kicking them away once they prove too cumbersome. As you sit up, you find Prince Irus making effortless work of removing his own clothes. He tugs away at his tunic and pushes away the rough material of his trousers until he is sitting against the bed in his underclothes. His chest is bare, the pale skin of his torso glowing under the flickering oil lamps. You smile, your fingers still tangled in the clasps of your tunic. "Are you truly desperate to sleep?" Prince Irus laughs and the sound comes out warm and light. "Perhaps I am only eager to have you in my arms, Beloved." Your fingers pull away at your tunic and you push down your trousers until you are covered only by the thin material of your underclothes. A shiver runs down your back at the sudden loss of warmth but it is quickly eased as Prince Irus pulls you closer to him. <<elseif $chp8_53A8_fluff2 is 3>> "Shall I undress you, Your Highness?" you ask, your palms pressing against his chest. You are half-teasing, half-serious as the words slip past your lips. Your heartbeat is loud in your ears and you stare at Prince Irus in anticipation. His pupils grow darker, until it nearly swallows the blue of his irises. Staring at you, Prince Irus nods before his eyes dart to where your hands rest against his chest. "You need not ask my permission, Beloved," he breathes. "Truly?" you question, grinning at him. Prince Irus grips your hands, drawing your knuckles to his lips. He presses soft kisses against your fingers and the teasing grin on your lips falter until you can do no more than stare at him with wide eyes. When Prince Irus meets your gaze once more, there is only heated affection in his eyes. "I am yours, $name," he declares. "Do with me whatever you wish." Your breath hitches in your throat and you reach out as you begin to pull away at his tunic. Prince Irus helps you, his fingers tangling with yours until you are uncertain if you are undressing him or if he is undressing you. It is only when your boots and clothes lay discarded on the floor that you find yourself sitting against him in your underclothes. <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_53A8_fluff4]]

As you settle against Prince Irus, the quilts rustling over your closely pressed forms, you turn to gaze at him. The room is dim as the oil lamps begin to burn down to the last of their wicks. In the quietness, you allow your eyes to roam over the shadowed planes of his face. There is an undeniable handsomeness about his features that makes it impossible to stop yourself from admiring him when he’s awake or asleep, and even though the darkness shrouds most of his face, the faint outline of a smile can still be seen on his lips. He looks younger and far less worried than you have ever seen before. You stroke his face, feeling the weight of his breath against your skin and the heat of his form under the quilts. Prince Irus leans into your touch, his legs tangling between yours, before he presses a soft kiss against your cheek. "Sleep well, Beloved," he breathes. You hum in response, burying your face into the crook of his neck. His heartbeat echoes beneath his chest and you nuzzle closer to his hold. Lying together like this, your eyes begin to droop in drowsiness and the last thing you see is Prince Irus' gentle smile. [[Next.|chp8_end]]

There is a languidness in Prince Irus' fingers as he tugs away at your tunic. He pauses to place a kiss against your chin, his fingers grazing the side of your face before he pushes away from you and begins to undress. Your fingers find his and soon, you are both gasping and bare, your skins flushed with warmth and a hungry need. You can feel his breath against your skin as he against your body, brushing a trail of kisses along your ribs, across your shoulders, across your collarbone and up towards your face again. His lips are warm and soft as they brush against yours. Your hands move to pull him closer still, kissing him fiercely for in that moment, there is nothing you want more than him. His skin is impossibly warm against yours and your eyes flutter shut when you finally join, the sensation threatens to overwhelm you. You are filled with his heat and your lips part as a cry escapes you. Soon, there is nothing but your harsh breathing and the clumsy kisses that Prince Irus presses along your throat. You collapse together, shuddering as you finally find a moment of solace in each other. [[Next.|chp8_53A8_sex_fade1]]

<<if $irus_sex is false>>He kisses you hungrily, his fingers deftly pulling away at your tunic and then your trousers. You are breathing too fast, you think, but you cannot stop the way your body arches into his hands or the way you whimper with needy desire when his fingers trail between your thighs. A shudder grips you and you gasp as his fingers stroke along... [[...your slick folds.|chp8_53A8_sex2a][$folds to true]] [[...throbbing length.|chp8_53A8_sex2a][$length to true]]<<elseif $fade_irus is true>>He kisses you hungrily, his fingers deftly pulling away at your tunic and then your trousers. You are breathing too fast, you think, but you cannot stop the way your body arches into his hands or the way you whimper with needy desire when his fingers trail between your thighs. A shudder grips you and you gasp as his fingers stroke along... [[...your slick folds.|chp8_53A8_sex2a][$folds to true]] [[...throbbing length.|chp8_53A8_sex2a][$length to true]]<<else>>He leans down, his fingers pulling at the material of your tunic until your <<if $breast is true>>breasts are exposed to the cool air.<<elseif $chest is true>>chest is exposed to the cool air.<</if>> You shiver, breathing sharply as he leans down to swallow a nipple between his heated mouth and you whimper, arching into him when his teeth graze against your sensitive skin. He withdraws for a moment, staring at you with a heated look of want and you reach out, suddenly drawing him closer as your fingers tug at his own tunic. Prince Irus' lips curve into a grin and his fingers quickly join yours as he begins to pull away at his tunic, followed by the rough fabric of his trousers and then his underclothes. You lie there, taking in his naked form, unable to look away. His muscles are tight beneath his skin, his chest rising and falling quickly with his laboured breaths. When he reaches down to stroke the length of himself, you find your stomach coiling with a sharp pang of desire. Prince Irus grins at you before he shifts against you once more. His eyes take in your form, before he reaches out and frees your of your boots and your trousers. Your underclothes are the last to go and you gasp when his fingers begin to stroke your <<if $folds is true>>slick folds.<<elseif $length is true>>hardening length.<</if>> "I want to feel you, $name," he breathes, his voice ragged and low. "Let me feel all of you." He presses against you, hard and pulsing against your thigh. You look up at him, staring at his hungry mouth and the desire in his eyes. Prince Irus wants you and you... <<set $chp8_53A8_sex1 to 0>> [[...lie back as he takes you.|chp8_53A8_sex2][$chp8_53A8_sex1 +=1]] [[...push him onto his back, intending to bring him to pleasure.|chp8_53A8_sex2][$chp8_53A8_sex1 +=2]]<</if>>

Your body aches pleasantly as you lie beside Prince Irus. The air is thick with humidity and your mingled breaths, though you cannot seem to pull away from Prince Irus' form. His fingers stroke the side of your face, a gentle caress that sends a shiver through you, despite the warmth in your stomach. He turns to gaze at you and there is a soft smile on his lips. <<if $irus_sex is true>>You are reminded of the last time you made love. There is the same tenderness in his gaze as there had been the night you shared together in Ishari and the thought fills you with sudden longing. You lean closer and you exhale as his arm tightens around your waist. He meets you in a heated kiss, your mouths moving together as something deeper than just needy desire fills you. Your lungs begin to scream for air but you find yourself wanting to remain like this for eternity. Eventually, when you can hold your breath no longer, you tear yourself away from him. Your breaths come out in sharp pants and you find that Prince Irus is just as affected as you.<<else>>You stare at Prince Irus, drinking in his soft expression and the enjoying the way his fingers dance against the side of your hip. Lying like this makes you wonder why you have never fell into bed with him sooner. He notices your gaze and the smile on his lips lifts into a smirk. Your heart lurches at the sight and you lean forward to swallow his mouth. He kisses you back with ferocity as though neither of you are tired after your lovemaking. Moaning into the kiss, your lips part as his tongue slips in, stroking along your mouth in a languid dance that only causes your stomach to tighten. Eventually, Prince Irus pulls away and you find yourself breathing heavily as you stare at him.<</if>> He cups the side of your face and you catch the curl of a smile at the corner of his mouth. "We should rest, Beloved. If you continue to stare at me like that, I cannot assure you that you will ever be able to leave this bed." A searing heat, like the flames of a wildfire, slips over your skin and you grin at Prince Irus. He is right, you think, as his thumb grazes your cheek. Despite the pleasant warmth in your stomach, your limbs feel heavy and your eyelids threaten to close. <<set $chp8_53A8_sex_fade1 to 0>> [[You draw Prince Irus into your chest, enjoying the way his arms enfold you in a warm embrace.|chp8_53A8_sex_fade2][$chp8_53A8_sex_fade1 +=1]] [[Prince Irus tugs you closer, his entire form engulfing yours as his legs slip between your own.|chp8_53A8_sex_fade2][$chp8_53A8_sex_fade1 +=2]] [[You turn onto your side and draw Prince Irus closer, your arms and legs wrapping around him.|chp8_53A8_sex_fade2][$chp8_53A8_sex_fade1 +=3]]

<<if $chp8_53A8_sex_fade1 is 1>> Prince Irus leans against you, offering no resistance as you draw him against you. The muscles in his arms grow taut as he tugs you even closer; his embrace warm as you slip your legs tangle beneath the quilts. <<if $height is "tall">>Your toes brush against Prince Irus' and a soft sigh escapes you as press your feet against his warm skin.<<elseif $height is "average">>Your feet brush against his ankles and you lean closer, sighing as his heartbeat presses against your ear.<<elseif $height is "short">>You tilt your face upwards to meet his gaze and let out a soft breath when his fingers slip around your hips to pull you closer.<</if>> <<elseif $chp8_53A8_sex_fade1 is 2>> A sharp breath escapes you as Prince Irus draws you against his chest. Lying alongside him, you are keenly aware of the way his chest feels against your back and shoulders. Pressed together, there is nothing but the heat of your skins between you and you shudder when his mouth presses a lingering peck against the nape of your neck. <<elseif $chp8_53A8_sex_fade1 is 3>> Prince Irus easily falls into your hold and you hum in response when his fingers thread through yours as you slip your arms around his waist. He is broad and the expanse of his back fills your sight as you rest your cheek against his shoulder. The heat of his skin seeps against your embrace and you sigh, basking in the softness of this moment. <</if>> You lie together for some time. Prince Irus' breathing fills your ears and the pulsing of your heartbeat slows beneath your chest. Outside, there is only the sound of the wind and the distant crashing of waves. The room is darker than it had been earlier, for the oil lamps have grown dull since your arrival and you sigh, allowing the tiredness of the night to slip over you. Your eyes begin to close when you hear Prince Irus speak. His voice is low, a whisper that pierces the hush of the darkness but you hear it all the same. "When the war is all over, $name, will you still be willing to share my bed like this?" he asks. The fatigue that gripped you suddenly slips away as Prince Irus' question echoes in your mind. You stare at him, noting the vulnerability in his voice and the way his fingers squeeze yours as though he is afraid that you will flee from him if he lets go. <<set $chp8_53A8_sex_fade2 to 0>> [["I will share your bed no matter what, Irus," you assure him.|chp8_53A8_sex_fade3][$chp8_53A8_sex_fade2 +=1]] [["Do you doubt my loyalty to you, Irus?" you ask, offering a teasing smile. "I have no intentions of leaving you when everything is over."|chp8_53A8_sex_fade3][$chp8_53A8_sex_fade2 +=2]] [["I do not know what will happen when the war ends," you breathe. "I only know that being here with you is all that matters to me now."|chp8_53A8_sex_fade3][$chp8_53A8_sex_fade2 +=3]]

<<if $chp8_53A8_sex_fade2 is 1>> "I will share your bed no matter what, Irus," you assure him. He turns to meet your eyes and despite the smile on his lips, you notice the relief that fills his gaze. You wonder if he has thought about about what will come after the war and a flutter of warmth presses against your stomach at the notion. Leaning closer, you press a gentle kiss against the side of cheek before you withdraw. "Were you worried that I would say otherwise?" you ask. Prince Irus laughs slightly. "No. I only was surprised, $name." You tilt your head in curiosity but all thoughts in your mind is quickly pushed aside when Prince Irus presses his mouth against yours. The kiss is slow, gentle pecks that end all too soon, and you let out a shuddering breath. He draws you back against the pillow and strokes the side of your face. When Prince Irus' blue eyes find yours, he smiles. "Rest easy, Beloved," he murmurs. As you stare at him, you allow yourself to give into the sleep that clings to the edges of your mind. You fall against the mattress, warmed by Prince Irus' closeness and the quilts that gather around you both. It is with your hands clasped together that you find sleep. <<elseif $chp8_53A8_sex_fade2 is 2>> "Do you doubt my loyalty to you, Irus?" you ask, offering a teasing smile. "I have no intentions of leaving you when everything is over." Your smile falters for a moment when you catch the look of relief in Prince Irus' blue eyes. Reaching out, you grasp the side of his face and tug him closer so that he can look at nothing but you. You search his face and find a vulnerable expression on his face that causes your chest to lurch. "I am not going anywhere," you promise. Prince Irus nods in response and his eyes lower to your lips. "Are you certain you will not tire of me?" You scoff. "I have seen you at your worst. If I have not tired of you by now, I assure you that I will not tire of you when you are king." He does not reply and instead, leans into you as he kisses your mouth gently. Your skin flushes with warmth from the tenderness of his kiss, a slow peck that lingers even after he pulls away. You blink, staring at him and find that he wears a smile. "We should rest," he breathes. You cannot find your voice and so you nod, sagging against the mattress as Prince Irus' warmth envelops you. Your heartbeat is loud in your ears and you can still feel his lips on yours, but as your fingers thread against Prince Irus', you find that sleep is not as difficult to find when you are lying beside him. <<elseif $chp8_53A8_sex_fade2 is 3>> "I do not know what will happen when the war ends," you breathe. "I only know that being here with you is all that matters to me." The war has been drawing closer the more you have travelled with Prince Irus. It always weighs in the back of your thoughts, threatening to consume you but now, lying here with Prince Irus, you find that thinking about what comes after only serves to your fear worsen. //No.// It is better to bask in his warmth and to forget about the war. Prince Irus lets out a breath and when he turns to meet your eyes, you find him wearing an unreable look on his face. Your eyebrows furrow and you lift your finger to smooth away the crease of the frown that tugs at his lips. Leaning closer, you kiss him gently before withdrawing to peer at his face. "I am here with you because it is what I want," you murmur. "Let us think about what comes after when the time comes, Irus." Prince Irus stares at you, before his expression softens. He cups your face and presses a chaste kiss against your forehead. "Perhaps you are right, $name." He pulls back and smiles. "I am sorry. You must be tired. Shall we rest?" You nod, nuzzling into his warmth as you cast away the unanswered questions that form in your mind. As you breathe in the scent of Prince Irus' skin, you give yourself to sleep, knowing that you are secure in your feelings for him. <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_end]]

<<if $folds is true>>He strokes the soft skin between your thighs and you shiver as heat consumes you. You lay back, arching against his hand as his fingers delve between your slick folds. You cannot breathe nor can you speak, for you are consumed entirely by the burning fire that swirls within you, tightening until you are certain that it will break.<<elseif $length is true>>Prince Irus' fingers curl around your length, rubbing against your sensitive skin deftly. It is a slow, sensual dance and he knows exactly where you want him to go with his touch. Your legs move under his touch, curving upward invitingly as his fingers continue to stroke along your manhood.<</if>> He pulls away for a moment and your eyes flutter open as you stare at him in desperation. A soft chuckle escapes his lips and he leans forward to press a kiss to your... [[...bare chest.|chp8_53A8_sex2a1][$chest to true]] [[...soft breasts.|chp8_53A8_sex2a1][$breast to true]]

<<if $chp8_53A8_sex1 is 1>> As you lay against the pillows, a glimmer of amusement fills Prince Irus' gaze and he leans closer as his fingers begin to caress you. You smile back, closing your eyes as his lips come close to your own. He kisses you again, this time harder and you moan, arching your body into him even more as his fingers travel down your leg. Your eyes flutter open as you stare at him, noting the darkness of the blue depths of his gaze. <<if $folds is true>>A gasp escapes you as his fingers press into your slick heat. Your eyes flutter close and his touch explores your aching flesh, pushing further into you until your hips lift in search of his fingers. He smirks then, leaning forward as his lips press to yours once more. You wrap your arms around his neck, letting out a soft groan when his fingers slip inside of you. He curls his fingers inside you and your hips buck when he finds a sensitive spot inside you.<<elseif $length is true>>You groan when his fingers slip around your length, tugging your heated skin into rigidity. His hand is so hot that it burns as he strokes you, and you cannot stop yourself from arching your hips, rubbing yourself against him in a futile attempt to relieve some of the torment you feel within. Prince Irus grins at your expression and he presses his thumb against the tip of your throbbing length, stroking you until you are writhing and moaning in a fevered need. He leans down, swallowing your voice until your stomach tightens with a coil of arousal.<</if>> Your breathing quickens and a swirl of pressure builds inside you until you are whimpering in need. "Irus," you plead. <<elseif $chp8_53A8_sex1 is 2>> Your fingers curl against his shoulder and with your free hand, you press at his chest, pushing him backwards until he is lying beneath you. You stare at Prince Irus, taking in the way his muscles tense and the way his fingers grasp at your hips, drawing you closer to where his hardening length gleams under the firelight. "You are magnificent like this," you breathe. He groans and bucks his hips under you, causing you to shudder against the press of his length. Your palms press against his chest and you feel the way his heartbeat flares under your touch. Gazing down at him, you lean forward to kiss his mouth, a gentle peck before you draw away and let your lips slip lower. Prince Irus groans as your teeth scrapes the hollow of his neck and he grips the back of your head, drawing you closer. With your free hand, you reach between his thighs, stroking his hardness and your touch elicits a throaty sound from him. You pull your lips away, watching his expression as you stroke along his manhood. His eyes are dark, heavy with arousal as he stares at you. "I need more, $name." Your name falls past his lips like a desperate plea and you gasp when he reaches between your thighs, stroking your <<if $folds is true>>slick heat<<elseif $length is true>>throbbing erection.<</if>> <<elseif $chp8_53A8_sex1 is 3>> Prince Irus' blue eyes widen slightly at your words and for a moment, you find that you cannot meet his gaze. He reaches out, his fingers are gentle as they draw your chin so that your eyes meet his once more. There is a gentleness in the way that he looks at you and his lips pull into a soft smile. "There is no need to be embarrassed," he murmurs, his voice husky. "I will cherish this moment with you." He kisses the side of your forehead, allowing his fingers to dance along the soft skin of your<<if $breast is true>> breasts<<elseif $chest is true>> chest.<</if>> Slowly, he eases you against the bed, his touch delicate as he draws out sharp gasps from your lips and presses hungry kisses along your neck. <</if>> <<if $chp8_53A8_sex1 lt 3>>The air between you is hot and your back is slick with sweat. As your eyes meet Prince Irus', you find yourself being tugged closer until his length presses between your thighs. There is no warning, no soft words of reassurance as he plunges into you. Your inner muscles tense for a moment before you welcome his hardness deeper, until you are gasping against his neck.<<else>>He holds you gently, pushing until you feel his length between your thighs. Pausing, he turns to meet your gaze and you see only love in the depths of his blue eyes. Prince Irus kisses your mouth gently and with a press of his hips, he enters you slowly, easing himself in until you are both joined together.<</if>> <<set $chp8_53A8_sex2 to 0>> [[You kiss him hungrily as you move together.|chp8_53A8_sex3][$chp8_53A8_sex2 +=1]] [[Your fingers grip his shoulders as you bite down on your lip.|chp8_53A8_sex3][$chp8_53A8_sex2 +=2]] [[A low moan escapes you as you meet his thrusts.|chp8_53A8_sex3][$chp8_53A8_sex2 +=3]]

<<if $chp8_53A8_sex2 is 1>> He kisses you open-mouthed and desperate as you lean into him. Your hands roam across his chest as you try to find purchase. You want to touch every bit of skin that you can reach; to feel his heart pounding beneath your touch. A groan escapes you and you pull away from the heated kiss as you Prince Irus' hips press against yours. "I could fuck you like this for eternity, $name," he grunts. He is hard, almost painfully so, but it feels so good. You wrap your legs around his waist as he thrusts harder. The movement sends pleasure coursing through you, making the knot inside your stomach tighten even more. He continues to move against your body with increasing intensity, causing little flutters to run up and down your spine. <<elseif $chp8_53A8_sex2 is 2>> It is difficult to keep your voice from spilling from you like a declaration of your need for him. He presses deeper, until you are trembling and bucking against where his hips meet yours. A shiver runs down your spine and you gasp, feeling his teeth grazing the lobe of your ear. "You are so tight, $name," he moans. His words elicit a whimper from low in the back of your throat and you arch into him when he grips your thigh, pulling you even closer. You feel your body responding to his touch; your skin on fire. Your heart thumps wildly in your chest and the sound of it is all you can hear above the pounding in your ears. <<elseif $chp8_53A8_sex2 is 3>> Your voice comes out like a pitiful cry, desperate for his touch and the feeling of him inside you. His hands grip your hips roughly and he kisses your jawline, trailing kisses down your neck to the senstive skin against your throat. You gasp, arching into his mouth when his teeth graze at the hollow of your throat. "You feel so good, $name," he groans. He withdraws to place heated kisses against your face. Your fingers tighten around his shoulders and your head grows dizzy when you feel him pushing until he can go no deeper. He sucks on a spot just behind your ear and you whimper. <</if>> You are so close to the precipice of pleasure and from the husky breaths and low groans that spill past Prince Irus' mouth, you know that he too will not last much longer. He turns, facing you as his fingers find your <<if $folds is true>>wetness<<else>>hardness<</if>> and he strokes you until you are moaning and writhing under the pleasure of both his hands and his thrusts. The coiling heat in your stomach twists until it gives way under the pleasure that consumes you. You cry out, shuddering as you come apart around his length, <<if $folds is true>>your folds pulsing against him.<<else>>spilling across the expanse of your stomach.<</if>> His thrusts become faster, pushing you further into your climax until your toes curl beneath you. A low groan escapes Prince Irus and he stiffens, spilling deeply inside of you. For a long moment, you do not speak. Your breathing is harsh and your ears pulse loudly with the sound of your rushing blood. It is only when Prince Irus kisses your brow and eases himself from you that you allow your body to collapse against the bed. He turns, facing you with a soft look in his blue eyes. "Are you alright?" he asks. You hum in response, unable to find your voice. Sleep tugs at your mind, the weight of your pleasure suddenly tugging at your limbs and your thoughts. Prince Irus grins and pulls away slightly. Your eyelids feel heavy as you watch him through your lashes and you sigh when he moves to wipe away your flushed skin with a damp cloth. [[Next.|chp8_53A8_sex4]]

Later, when the oil lamps have burnt down to the last of their wicks and the room is bathed in dark shadows, you find yourself curled against Prince Irus. Neither of you have bothered to redress and you find yourself pressed against his bare skin once more. His fingers trail languid patterns along the ridges of your spine and you sigh into his shoulder, lulled by the sense of security that fills you. It has been a long day and an even longer night, yet, as you lie entangled in Prince Irus' hold, you find yourself reluctant to sleep. Prince Irus' blue eyes find yours and he smiles. He kisses your forehead and whispers, "Sleep well, Beloved." You sigh, finally allowing your eyes to flutter closed. He pulls you closer and you breathe in his scent; still tasting the remnants of his earlier kiss against your lips, before you slip your arms around his torso. Sleep comes gradually, but when it does, you fall into it easily. [[Next.|chp8_end]]

<<if $breast is true>>You arch, your breath quickening as his fingers press against the swell of your breasts. His fingers tug at the pert buds of arousal that glimmers in the darkness and you shiver against the brush of his lips as they move against your skin.<<elseif $chest is true>>You gasp as Prince Irus' fingers dance across your chest, his touch trailing along your collarbone and then, replaced by his lips as he lowers his mouth further. Your back arches against the heat and wetness of his tongue when he begins to pepper your chest with kisses.<</if>> "I want to feel you, $name," he breathes, his voice ragged and low. "Let me feel all of you." He presses against you, hard and pulsing against your thigh. You look up at him, staring at his hungry mouth and the desire in his eyes. Prince Irus wants you and you... <<set $chp8_53A8_sex1 to 0>> [[...lie back as he takes you.|chp8_53A8_sex2][$chp8_53A8_sex1 +=1]] [[...push him onto his back, intending to bring him to pleasure.|chp8_53A8_sex2][$chp8_53A8_sex1 +=2]] [[...mumble, "I have never lain with another before."|chp8_53A8_sex2][$chp8_53A8_sex1 +=3]]

<<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "chp8_romance" loop play>>Your eyes pull away from Queen Elora and you take in the rest of her room. The opulence of her room is no less magnificent than yours and you turn to take in the large bed at the centre of the floor before turning to face the open windows that overlooks the sea beyond the shore. Queen Elora smiles lightly at you before she steps closer, her arms slipping around your shoulders as she draws you towards her. "None will dare to disturb us tonight, my love." Her words elicits a sharp breath from you and you become aware of the warmth that slips over your skin from where her arms hold you close. She smiles sweetly at you and the sight is enough to cause your heartbeat to quicken. This close, you can tell that her dark eyes are brown and not black, and that the redness of her lips must come from a tint she applied earlier. "Would you care for a drink?" she asks. You nod in response and you watch as Queen Elora turns away, pouring a deep, amber liquid into two goblets. She returns, offering you one before smiling wider. "Let us make a toast," she states. "Do you have anything in mind, $name?" <<set $chp8_53B12 to 0>> [["A toast to us," you respond, raising your goblet.|chp8_53B13][$chp8_53B12 +=1]] [["To our first night together," you laugh. "May there be many more."|chp8_53B13][$chp8_53B12 +=2]] [["I am not certain," you respond, flushing. "Perhaps you should make a toast."|chp8_53B13][$chp8_53B12 +=3]]

<<if $chp8_53B12 is 1>> "A toast to us," you respond, raising your goblet. You raise the goblet, smiling at Queen Elora as she raises her own. Her dark eyes gleam with affection and your chest fills with warmth at the small smile that tugs at the corners of her lips. The goblet sloshes with the amber liquid and you bring it to your lips. It smells of honey and apples. Tipping it back, you are pleased to taste a slight sweetness of the otherwise tangy drink. "To us," Queen Elora repeats. She places her goblet down, before she draws closer to you. "I have longed to be alone with you like this. But there has been little time for respite." You search her face and find the tension from earlier return. Her eyebrows press together and the crease of her forehead mars her beauty. You press your palm against her face and are rewarded by the darkening depths of her eyes as you trace a slow pattern along her skin. "There is time now," you breathe. She smiles, leaning into your palm. "You are right, my love. We have all night together." <<elseif $chp8_53B12 is 2>> "To our first night together," you laugh. "May there be many more." Your words might be crass to some, but you are pleased when Queen Elora tips her head back and laughs. The sound is melodious and it filters through the air like the notes of chimes. You smile widely when she meets your eyes and you find her wearing a mirthful expression. "You are confident that there will be more nights like this, then?" she asks. Tipping the goblet to your lips, you drink deeply of the tangy drink, sweetened with honey. It coats your tongue, leaving behind a pleasant taste as you grin at Queen Elora. She smiles at you, her cheeks flushed from the heat or your presence - you are not certain. "I am almost certain of it, Elora," you respond. "I would spend a thousand nights together with you if you allowed me." <<elseif $chp8_53B12 is 3>> "I am not certain," you respond, flushing. "Perhaps you should make a toast." Your chest tightens as you struggle to breathe. Queen Elora peers at you closely before her lips pull into an affectionate smile. She reaches for your free hand, threading your fingers together before she raises her goblet. You mimic her gesture but it is difficult to focus when she is so close and the smell of her perfume fills your nose. "To the deepening of our courtship," she states. "May it last long and be full of joy." Her words steal your attention and you stare at her with wide eyes. There is no teasing in her smile. You find only sincerity in her dark gaze and a fondness that softens her features as she looks at you. When she smiles wider at you, you turn away to hide your flustered expression and busy yourself with the contents of the goblet. The amber liquid tastes of tart apples and honey. It is not entirely unpleasant but it does little to soothe your racing heart or the heated flush that spreads across your neck and chest. Queen Elora chuckles softly and you turn towards the sound. She gazes at you with adoration and it is enough to halt your breathing. "You need not be nervous, $name," she murmurs. "Being here with you like this is far better than anything I could do." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_53B14]]

Soon, your goblets are empty and neither of you have found the will to refill it with the amber liquid. You turn to find Queen Elora perched at the edge of the mattress. Her hair falls in dark curls behind her back, like tendrils made out of ebony. In the dim glow of the burning oil lamps, she looks nothing like the queen you have seen in her court. She is beautiful like this, graceful and yet, powerful. Her eyes notice your gaze and she smiles. "What is it?" You are struck by the ease of the conversation and of being here with Queen Elora. There is no ceremony, no pomp that comes from being in the presence of royalty and when she smiles at you, there is only warmth in her gaze. Your skin burns from the attention and you swallow, thinking of a response. <<set $chp8_53B14 to 0>> [["I never thought that I could be here with you like this," you confess.|chp8_53B15][$chp8_53B14 +=1]] [["You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," you breathe.|chp8_53B15][$chp8_53B14 +=2]] [["Does my low status not concern you?" you question. "You are a queen and I am just the child of a dead fisherman."|chp8_53B15][$chp8_53B14 +=3]]

<<if $chp8_53B14 is 1>> "I never thought that I could be here with you like this," you confess. Your voice is stilted and low. You turn away from Queen Elora's dark eyes, suddenly afraid to see her expression at your fears. All of your life, you have been alone. No one ever dared to look at you the way Queen Elora has and you wonder if she will one day tire of being with you. She is has no shortage of suitors, you are certain of this and the doubt that she will still harbour any affection for you when the war is over leaves you breathless with unease. "$name," Queen Elora calls. Her voice is firm, almost a command but when you turn to face her, you find her wearing a gentle expression. You search her face, trying to make sense of the emotions in her eyes but all you find is fondness and beneath it, a yearning that makes your heartbeat quicken. "I want to be here with you," she breathes. "Regardless of who you are and what my role is in Vinia. I want you and that is all that matters to me." <<elseif $chp8_53B14 is 2>> "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," you breathe. Your words are spoken softly and yet, Queen Elora seems to catch them all the same. She tilts her head and your eyes dart to the hollow of her neck, where her tunic dips low to reveal her collarbone. Your heartbeat thunders under your chest, beating so loudly that you feel its force against your ribcage. "I am more than my beauty, $name," she teases. You nod. "Of course, Elora. You are kind and intelligent and-" She laughs, waving her hand at you to stop your words. "I did not mean to solicit flattery from you. These words that you use to describe are the words I would use to describe //you//." You blink in surprise. "Me?" "Yes, //you//, $name," Queen Elora murmurs. Her smile softens until there is a fond expression on her face. "When we first met, I did not know what to expect of you but you have proven to be an invaluable companion to Iri and to me... you are treasured." <<elseif $chp8_53B14 is 3>> "Does my low status not concern you?" you question. "You are a queen and I am just the child of a dead fisherman." You did not intend for the thoughts that have rattled in your mind to come out so bluntly but they do and they draw Queen Elora's dark eyes towards you. She stares at you in surprise, her lips parting as though to speak but then she closes it. You turn away, suddenly wondering if your insecurities were better left unspoken. Queen Elora exhales deeply and the sound draws your attention. She does not look at you but the glow of the oil lamp casts shadows on her face, making her creased expression look far tireder than it is. When Queen Elora finally speaks, her voice is low and filled with empathy. "You are right," she explains. "Our status in society is not the same." Your heart clenches painfully but before you can respond, Queen Elora continues. She turns to stare at you. Her dark eyes are filled with determination, an intensity that is nearly enough to steal your breath. "But I do not think that you are being true to who you truly are, $name," she states. "You are not simply the $gender of a fisherman. Your father was the General of the Blood Guard and your mother is the High Priestess of Ehulla. You have fled your only home to aid Iri and you have overcome far greater challenges than anyone else has had to face. There is nothing low about you or your status, $name and it is why I care for you." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_53B16]]

You stare at Queen Elora, her words still lingering in the space between you and swallow, finding that it is difficult to find the words to respond. She gazes at you from where she sits on the bed and smiles softly. Leaning back against her elbows, she watches you for a moment, her dark eyes trailing over your form before they return to meet your gaze. "If we are to spend the night together then we will have to share the bed too, $name," she murmurs. "Come. You are too far away from me." You stare at her beckoning gaze and then at the bed. It is large enough to fit the both of you comfortably together and yet, the thought of sharing the same bed as Queen Elora is enough to make your pulse quicken. Slowly, you step towards the bed and when you eventually sit, Queen Elora turns to you with a pleased grin. "I am happy that you agreed to stay with me tonight," she breathes. Her fingers graze the side of your face. "Being alone here, with the thoughts of my family makes it difficult to find sleep. But you are enough to cast aside the shadows." Her words are an admission of her worries. You take in the press of her lips and the way her eyebrow furrows, betraying how much her worries have tormented her. Your hand slips over her palm and you hear her swallow a sharp breath. <<set $chp8_53B16 to 0>> [[You lean forward and kiss her mouth hungrily.|chp8_53B17][$chp8_53B16 +=1]] [[She tilts your face as her lips find yours in the dim room.|chp8_53B17][$chp8_53B16 +=2]] [[Gently, you pull her closer so that she is encompassed in your warmth.|chp8_53B17][$chp8_53B16 +=3]]

<<if $chp8_53B16 is 1>> It only takes a moment before your mouth is pressing against hers. A soft sound escapes Queen Elora and you swallow it greedily, wanting to taste her voice and devour her heat. She kisses you back, her fingers tightening around your neck as you press even closer. Your skin is flushed with heat and your heartbeat thunders loudly in your ears, deafening you as your lips part against Queen Elora's. Your tongue slides against her and you groan into the kiss, slipping your arms around her waist as you draw her into you. There is no space between your forms and you feel every dip and curve of her skin. She breathes heavily but her fingers only tighten in their grip around you. You press harder against her, feeling the rise of her breasts against you where you rest your head against hers. Her hair brushes against your cheek and you sigh into the kiss, revelling in her warmth. She tastes sweet and warm like honey. When you can kiss her no longer, for your lungs burn painfully, you pull away and press your forehead against hers. <<elseif $chp8_53B16 is 2>> She is slow, painfully so, as her fingers caress your cheeks and chin. You shudder when her nose brushes against yours and gently, she tilts your face so that the outline of her mouth presses against yours. The kiss is barely a kiss at first. She takes her time in moving her mouth along your jaw and down the side of your throat. You gasp when her tongue darts out to lick at your pulse point. Her lips smile against your skin and she withdraws, her fingers still clutching you tightly as her dark eyes meet yours. Slowly, she leans forward and captures your lower lip between hers. She kisses you softly before pressing closer so that you can feel the swell of her breasts against your hold. Her tongue eases between your lips, dancing slowly against yours as she kisses you deeper. Your fingers tighten around her waist and you lean into the kiss, wanting it to never end. But as your heartbeat quickens and your chest tightens from a lack of breath, Queen Elora pulls away, her eyes fluttering open as she stares at you. <<elseif $chp8_53B16 is 3>> Your hands slip around Queen Elora and you hear her sigh against your hold before she draws forward and rests her head against your shoulder. She is warm against you and her breathing is soft. You squeeze her tighter and are pleased with she nuzzles your neck. A small smile pulls at your lips and you turn to press a soft kiss against her head. Queen Elora turns, her cheek still resting on your shoulder as her dark eyes find yours. She reaches out, her fingers soft as they slide over your chin, moving up your cheek before she allows her thumb to slip over your lower lip. Your heartbeat thunders loudly in your chest and you find yourself unable to look away from the yearning in her eyes. Shifting so that she no longer leaning against you, Queen Elora takes her time in running her palms over your form. She spreads her fingers across the expanse of your back, settling them over your shoulders before they dance a slow pattern down to where your palms rest. Grasping your hands in hers, she squeezes them gently before looking at you. <</if>> "Spending the night together can be an intimate thing," she whispers. "Tell me what you want, $name, and you shall have it." You stare at her darkened eyes and flushed cheeks. She studies your expression, her touch still warm and lingering as you swallow an unsteady breath. She is willing to give you anything you desire and the thought sends a shiver down your spine. <<set $elora_sex to false>> [["I want to feel you against me," you murmur.|chp8_53B18_sex][$elora_sex to true]] //<<linkreplace "''(?)''" t8n>>This choice leads to explicit sexual content.<</linkreplace>>// [["I want to feel you against me," you murmur.|chp8_53B18_fade][$elora_sex to true]] //<<linkreplace "''(?)''" t8n>>This choice leads to fade-to-black sexual content.<</linkreplace>>// [["I want to hold you as I sleep tonight," you breathe.|chp8_53B18_fluff]] //<<linkreplace "''(?)''" t8n>>This choice leads to non-sexual content.<</linkreplace>>//

"I want to feel you against me," you murmur. Her face lights up in a smile as she leans forward. You close your eyes and inhale sharply when she brushes her lips against yours. The moment is so perfect, so sensual that you are momentarily taken aback before your lips part slightly and her tongue slips in. She tastes like the honey from the amber drink you shared and spices from what she must have eaten earlier. Your kisses become ferocious, hungry and devouring as the fabric of your attire becomes a barrier to what you feel. Withdrawing, you begin to undress and Queen Elora is quick to follow your lead. Your eyes take in her exposed skin as she strips away her tunic, followed by her trousers. When she stands in only her chemise, her eyes find yours as she pulls it away to reveal the swell of her breasts and the desire between her thighs. She is all heat and fire and you know you will never be cold again, not when you are with her. Queen Elora reaches towards your nude form, her fingers tracing over your shoulders and settling against... [[...the curve of your breasts.|chp8_53B18_sex1][$breast to true]] [[...the expanse of your chest.|chp8_53B18_sex1][$chest to true]]

"I want to feel you against me," you murmur. Your words elicit a soft whimper from Queen Elora and it is not long before you are hastily undressing. With your attire discarded against the floor, you find yourself at the mercy of the young queen as she moves to push you against the mattress. Your lips meet in a heated kiss and her fingers trail lower until they seek the source of your pulsing desire. You gasp, falling together as your bodies join in unision. There is only heat and her taste on your lips as your bodies find each other in the darkness of the room. Your hands find purchase against the back of Queen Elora's head and you feel the softness of her curls tangle against your fingers as she kisses a trail of heat down your neck. A shiver of pleasure fills you when the lightest of touches finds its way between your thighs and you feel your entire body shudder with yearning. It takes all your willpower to keep from crying out with your release as Queen Elora gasps against you, her own pleasure playing against her delicate features. She collapses against your skin, her breathing ragged and her skin searing as she kisses your face and cheeks. [[Next.|chp8_53B18_fade1]]

"I want to hold you as I sleep tonight," you breathe. Queen Elora's smile softens and she nods at you. Leaning forward, she presses a chaste kiss against your forehead before she withdraws and stands from the bed. You watch as she begins to kick off her slippers and unclasp the fastenings of her tunic. When she finds you staring at her, she grins slighty. "If we are to share a bed tonight, I do expect that you remove your outerwear, $name," she teases. "As much as I enjoy being with you, even you have to admit that sleeping in the attire from the feast is cumbersome." There is nothing coy about the way Queen Elora undresses. She must know that she is beautiful you think as her trousers and tunic falls to the floor, leaving her bare arms and thighs exposed under her thin chemise. Her skin is like desert sand and her eyes are carved from obsidian as she gazes at you. "Shall I help you?" she asks. At your confused expression, she grins. "To undress, of course." <<set $chp8_53B18_fluff to 0>> [[You shake your head, suddenly warm at the notion of being undressed by Queen Elora.|chp8_53B18_fluff1][$chp8_53B18_fluff +=2]] [["Is it not supposed to be the other way?" you ask, accepting her aid.|chp8_53B18_fluff1][$chp8_53B18_fluff +=2]] [["There is no need to sully your hands, Elora," you tease, as you begin to undress.|chp8_53B18_fluff1][$chp8_53B18_fluff +=3]]

<<if $chp8_53B18_fluff is 1>> Heat spreads across your face and neck. You shudder at the searing flames that lick along your skin and turn away from the amused smile on Queen Elora's lips as you begin to undress. First are your boots. They come away with an audible thump and you shiver when you look up to find Queen Elora watching you from the bed. Next is your tunic and you inwardly chastise your trembling fingers and ragged breaths as you unfasten the clasps. You swallow, your mouth dry as you reach the final clasp before you turn your back to Queen Elora's view, suddenly unable to meet her gaze as you push away your tunic to reveal your bare arms. Your trousers are the last of your outwear to be removed. Hooking your fingers into the waistline, you tug it down, letting the cool air of the room to slip over your skin. You shudder, suddenly exposed in nothing but your underclothes and turn to face Queen Elora. Her dark eyes take you in and when she speaks, her words are soft. "You are magnificent, my love. Come, let us rest together." <<elseif $chp8_53B18_fluff is 2>> "Is it not supposed to be the other way?" you ask, accepting her aid. Queen Elora's gaze flicker with amusement as she glances at you before letting her fingers move to the clasps of your tunic. Her fingers are deft, easily unfastening the small ties of fabric and you stare at her with raised eyebrows. She meets your stare and smiles. "I have been dressing myself for some time now," she explains. "I find it bothersome to have attendants dressing me when I am not making a grand appearance in court." Her fingers ease away your tunic and your breath quickens when her hands rest on your exposed arms for a moment. She turns, folding your tunic neatly before laying it on a nearby chair and gestures for your boots. "I offered my aid but I suppose you can remove your boots on your own," she explains. You huff out a laugh. "I thought you were going to help me." She grins. "You expect me to kneel at your feet to remove your boots? I may not be conceited, $name, but it is far too early in our courtship to expect me to bow to you." You chuckle and kick away your boots before Queen Elora's gentle fingers return. She makes quick work of tugging away your trousers until you stand with only your thin underclothes to hide your bare form. Her dark eyes travel over the expanse of your skin and she leans back against the mattress, wearing a small smile. "Come, let us lie together, $name," she murmurs. <<elseif $chp8_53B18_fluff is 3>> "There is no need to sully your hands, Elora," you tease, as you begin to undress. Queen Elora laughs softly and leans back against the mattress. Her eyes follows your fingers as you pull away your boots and rest them against the floor. Next is the clasps of your tunic and you turn, meeting her eyes as she watches you with keen interest. "Perhaps you are right," she breathes. "It is much better to watch you than to sully my hands." A grin pulls at your lips in response and you pull away the cotton fabric of your tunic, exposing your arms to the cool air of the room. A shiver runs through you and you find Queen Elora watching you with a soft smile, her eyes slipping over your face down to your collarbone before they return to meet your gaze. Your trousers are the last to be removed. You have undressed many times before but there is a tension now that sits in your stomach, knowing that you are being watched by Queen Elora. Slowly, you slip down the material of your trousers and step out of them so that you are covered only by the thin material of your underclothes. "Come, lie beside me, my love," Queen Elora calls. "Let us rest together." <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_53B18_fluff2]]

You settle against the mattress, sighing as Queen Elora draws the soft quilts over the both of you. A breath escapes you as you turn and find her watching you with a soft look on her face. She leans closer, her arms slipping around your waist as her head settles against the crook of your neck. In only your underclothes, you feel the flush of heat of Queen Elora's exposed skin. She is soft against you and her scent is stronger, as though she had bathed in the perfume that clings to her hair and skin. Lying together like this, it is easy to forget about the war for the only thing that matters is the adoration in Queen Elora's dark eyes as she gazes at you in the dimness. "You are warm," she murmurs. Her breath tickles your neck and she leans closer, pressing her lips to your cheek. "Thank you for staying with me tonight." <<set $chp8_53B18_fluff2 to 0>> [[You grasp the side of her face and kiss her softly.|chp8_53B18_fluff3][$chp8_53B18_fluff2 +=1]] [["You need no thank me," you whisper, breathing in her scent.|chp8_53B18_fluff3][$chp8_53B18_fluff2 +=2]] [["I will stay with you for as long as you want me," you assure her, kissing her cheek.|chp8_53B18_fluff3][$chp8_53B18_fluff2 +=3]]

<<if $chp8_53B18_fluff2 is 1>> Queen Elora gasps into your kiss before her fingers splay across your galloping heartbeat. The kiss is slow, a gentle peck before you pull away and rest your forehead against hers. Her dark eyes flutter open and she stares at you, unspeaking but there is no need for words when her emotions are bared to you against her features. There is warmth in her smile and affection in the way her hold against you calms your endless thoughts. You turn towards her, sighing when she buries her face into your neck. Her heat seeps into your skin and her feet beneath the quilts tangles against your legs, so that there lies no space between your pressed bodies. <<elseif $chp8_53B18_fluff2 is 2>> "You need no thank me," you whisper, breathing in her scent. You would have agreed to share her bed, regardless of the conditions she placed on the act. The thought of being anywhere else only tightens your hold on her and you are rewarded by a faint smile against her lips. She gazes at you softly and spreads her fingers against the side of your face. "You are sweet, $name," she murmurs. Leaning closer, she presses a kiss to your cheek. "Then I shall not thank you but only ask you hold me tighter." Your lips tug into a smile and you oblige Queen Elora. Tugging her closer, your arms tighten around her waist as your legs tangle beneath the quilts. Her perfumed scent reaches your nose and you sigh, burying your face between her shoulder and neck. <<elseif $chp8_53B18_fluff2 is 3>> "I will stay with you for as long as you want me," you assure her, kissing her cheek. Her fingers reach up, cupping the side of your face and you press a kiss to her cheek. When you withdraw, she stares at you with heavy-lidded eyes and a soft smile. She does not speak but there is no need for her to speak her thoughts. Her eyes flicker with affection and the smile on her lips is soft as her fingers caress your cheek. "I fear that I may never tire of you, $name," she whispers. You grin. "Then you will have me for eternity." <</if>> Settling against each other, you allow the silence of the room to soothe your heartbeat until there is nothing but the sounds of your mingling breaths. You glance at Queen Elora and find her smiling at you. She slips a hand over your heartbeat, pressing gently before she speaks in a hushed tone. "Sleep well, my love." As though it is all the permission you needed, you close your eyes and settle against the pillows. Your breathing soon slows and you find yourself slipping into the warm embrace of your tiredness, reassured that when you awake in the morning, Queen Elora will be beside you. [[Next.|chp8_end]]

When there is nothing left but your shared breaths and Queen Elora's gentle hold, you find yourself sprawled beneath the quilts. Her taste still lingers in your mouth and the softeness of her trailing fingers sends shudders down your spine. She turns to face you, resting partially on her elbow as she smiles. "Are you alright?" she asks. Her fingers curl around your face. "You are still trembling." Warmth spreads through your chest and you lean closer towards her hold. She smiles and places another soft peck against your forehead. You bask in the moment for a while longer, struggling to find your voice when your breathing is still so ragged and your blood pulses loudly in your ears. <<set $chp8_53B18_fade1 to 0>> [["You are the first person I have ever lain with," you admit.|chp8_53B18_fade2][$chp8_53B18_fade1 +=1]] [["You were magnificent," you mumble.|chp8_53B18_fade2][$chp8_53B18_fade1 +=2]] [["If I am trembling, it is only because I am in your presence," you murmur.|chp8_53B18_fade2][$chp8_53B18_fade1 +=3]]

<<if $chp8_53B18_fade1 is 1>> "You are the first person I have ever lain with," you admit. Saying it aloud causes a flare of heat to spread across your face. You swallow and turn to meet Queen Elora's eyes. Her dark eyes are unwavering as she studies your face. Her fingers are gentle against your cheek and you sigh when her mouth finds yours in the small space between you. "I am honoured you chose me," she breathes. "Honoured?" you ask. She smiles, her fingers threading through yours. "Hm. You could have spent your first time with anyone, $name." You shake your head and lean into her touch. Her legs tangle with yours beneath the quilt and your arms tighten around her waist. She sighs before nuzzling the side of your neck and draws you closer to her embrace. Her hair tickles your skin, but you find that you do not care, not when you are filled with the heat of her affection. <<elseif $chp8_53B18_fade1 is 2>> "You were magnificent," you mumble. Queen Elora laughs a loud sound. It tumbles out of her lips like the rolling waves of the sea. Your skin flushes with heat and you stare at her, unwilling to turn away. When her laughter eases, she turns to gaze at you with a look of fondness. Her smile is soft and she reaches out to brush her hand against the side of your face. "That is kind of you to say, $name," she murmurs. "It is not kindness," you respond. "It is only the truth." Your breathing quickens as Queen Elora presses a chaste kiss to your lips. When she withdraws, her dark eyes are filled with the heat you feel between your ribs, threatening to swallow you from within. <<elseif $chp8_53B18_fade1 is 3>> "If I am trembling, it is only because I am in your presence," you murmur. Your lips brush against her skin as you speak, causing a shiver to run down her spine. She laughs softly, pulling back from you slightly her fingers remain against your face, trailing slow patterns along your jaw and neck. A tender expression fills her dark eyes and it is enough to cause your chest to tighten. "I do not know how truthful you are being," she teases. "Certainly you exaggerating, my love." "And what if it is only the truth?" you ask. Her eyes find yours and she opens her mouth as if to reply but stops a moment later. She draws closer to you, her breath warm against your neck as she buries her face into the crook of your neck. You sigh, enjoying the press of her body and the flush of her skin as you tighten your hold around her waist. <</if>> "Sleep well, my love," she murmurs. <<set $chp8_53B18_fade2 to 0>> [["You too," you breathe, settling into her hold.|chp8_53B18_fade3][$chp8_53B18_fade2 +=1]] [[You kiss her cheek gently.|chp8_53B18_fade3][$chp8_53B18_fade2 +=2]] [["I will certainly sleep well with you in my arms," you sigh.|chp8_53B18_fade3][$chp8_53B18_fade2 +=3]]

<<if $chp8_53B18_fade2 is 1>> "You too," you breathe, settling into her hold. Her arms tighten around you and you sag into her touch. Queen Elora is warm and it lulls you into a sense of comfort. You can feel her heartbeat through the flushed warmth of her skin. And when she kisses your lips, there is a pleasant tingling under your skin. It spreads through your limbs, weighing heavily as though you have spent hours swimming against the currents of the sea. <<elseif $chp8_53B18_fade2 is 2>> Your lips brush against her cheek, a gentle peck and when you withdraw, you find Queen Elora staring at you with a soft gaze. She says nothing. There is no need for words. Her caressing fingers and soft smile is enough to make your heart swell. You lean into her and breathe in deeply. Her perfumed scent is as familiar to you by now as is her taste and the thought draws a smile to your lips. <<elseif $chp8_53B18_fade2 is 3>> "I will certainly sleep well with you in my arms," you sigh. Queen Elora chuckles softly and you smile when she snuggles closer to you. She is soft and delicate in your embrace. The thought causes your heartbeat to quicken and you shudder when she presses her lips against yours, a barely-there peck that lingers long after she withdraws. Her eyes are dark but even so, you see only affection in her gaze. <</if>> It does not take long for tiredness to finally tug at your eyelids. You yawn and sag into Queen Elora, enjoying the flush of warmth that curls around your limbs. A small hum escapes you as she kisses you again, softer this time, as if afraid to shatter your rest. You draw her closer and sigh, finally giving into the slumber that awaits you. [[Next.|chp8_end]]

<<if $breast is true>>You shiver as her fingers curl around your breasts. She smooths her palms against your heated skin and leans closer. Her breath brushes against you as her mouth traces wet kisses between the valley of your breasts and you gasp, your grip on her shoulder tightening when she swallows a nipple into her mouth. Her tongue swirls across the bud until it is erect and you feel a swirl of heat tightening low in your stomach.<<elseif $chest is true>>Your breath comes out sharply as her fingers splay across your chest. Queen Elora is slow as her nails scratch slightly at your skin and you shiver when she leans closer, placing soft, open-mouthed kisses across your skin. A low moan escapes your lips when her teeth graze against your nipple and she bites down slightly before withdrawing with a dark gleam in her eyes.<</if>> "Elora," you breathe, unable to contain your voice. She stares at you, her eyes hungry with desire as she leans forward and kisses your neck. Her tongue darts out to lap at your pulse and you shudder, suddenly gripping her closer as you turn to meet her searing kiss. Your teeth press together and you moan, suddenly consumed by the dance of her tongue and the way her fingers settle against the pounding of your heartbeat beneath your <<if $breast is true>>breast<<else>>chest<</if>>. "So eager," she murmurs, her hands trailing lower. "And so perfect." You tense as her fingers delve between the heated skin of your thighs, settling over your... [[...slick folds.|chp8_53B18_sex2][$folds to true]] [[...aching length.|chp8_53B18_sex2][$length to true]]

<<if $folds is true>>You whimper when as her fingers stroke gently against your mound. A shudder runs down your spine and you grasp her wrist tightly, as though to keep her from pulling away. Queen Elora chuckles softly and leans closer, so that her breath brushes the side of your face. She kisses your neck gently, allowing her fingers to explore your depths. A low moan leaves your mouth and your head falls forward, pressing against Queen Elora's hold. Her thumb brushes the swollen bud, pressing against it until you are shivering and clenching with aching need. Heat coils in your stomach and spreads from where her fingers stroke along you wet folds to your chest. "You are so wet for me," she whispers. She withdraws her fingers, licking the slickness from the skin. "So delicious too."<<elseif $length is true>>A warbled groan rumbles in the back of your throat as Queen Elora's fingers slide over your length. She grips you steadily, her palms working along the sensitive skin of your hardness. Your eyes flutter closed and you buck you hips into her hand, no longer in control of your movements. A pleased sound esapes Queen Elora and she only tightens her hold, her fingers deft as they rub along your length. Her thumb brushes your tip and it sends a jolt of desire through your entire body. You grunt loudly and your hands twitch, reaching to grip Elora's wrists. You need more than this - far more than she is giving you and it is enough to make you groan. "You are so hard for me," she breathes. Her fingers pull away and she leans closer to kiss your neck. "So ready to fuck me."<</if>> Her words are stepped in arousal, leaving her lips in a heated breath. Your face is too warm and your stomach tightens at the sight of her kiss-swollen lips. You grasp her face, pulling her mouth to your and kiss her deeply. She moans into your lips, her fingers tightening around your shoulders. Parting for air, she stares at you hungrily. "Tell me what you want, my love. I will give you anything you desire." <<set $chp8_53B18_sex2 to 0>> [["I want to taste you," you breathe.|chp8_53B18_sex3][$chp8_53B18_sex2 +=1]] [["I want you to use your mouth," you declare.|chp8_53B18_sex3][$chp8_53B18_sex2 +=2]] [["I want to feel your hands on me," you whimper.|chp8_53B18_sex3][$chp8_53B18_sex2 +=3]] <<if $length is true>>[["I want to feel you around me," you groan.|chp8_53B18_sex3][$chp8_53B18_sex2 +=4]]<</if>>

<<if $chp8_53B18_sex2 is 1>> "I want to taste you," you breathe. Queen Elora moans in response and tugs at your hand, pulling you atop her as she lies back against the bed. You straddle her, your hands resting on either side of her hips as you take in her form. She is beautiful, you think as you lean down to kiss her breasts. Your mouth elicits soft moans from her throat as you slip lower to capture a nipple into your mouth. Her fingers dig into the back of your head, keeping you close as your free hand traces a path between her thighs. You pause for a moment, feeling the soft curls against her mound before you slip a finger into her slick opening. She gasps, arching against you and you pull away from her swollen nipple to gaze down at where her thighs part to reveal her heated flesh. "Please, $name," she moans. "I need more." You kiss the corner of her lips before you lower your mouth to her mound. Slowly, you kiss her slick folds, tasting her essence before your tongue darts out to swirl against the heated flesh there. As you press forward, breathing in her scent and tasting her wetness on your tongue, your free hand moves lower to curl against your <<if $folds is true>>own slick heat<<else>>throbbing erection<</if>>. In tandem, your mouth and your hand bring pleasure to both Queen Elora and to yourself. Her hips buck against your face and her fingers tangle against your scalp, digging into your skin as you moans above you. You do not stop, not until you feel her muscles clenching, her thighs wrapping around your neck and shoulders as she releases with a low moan. The pressure between your thighs only grows at the sound of her whimpers and you increase the movements of your hand until your voice comes out sharp and strangled as you <<if $folds is true>>tighten around your fingers<<elseif $length is true>>spill against your fingers, staining your palm with your release.<</if>> <<elseif $chp8_53B18_sex2 is 2>> "I want you to use your mouth," you declare. Your words causes a grin to pull at Queen Elora's lips and she pushes you against the bed so that she sits above you. You stare at her hungrily, feeling desire course through your veins like the flames of a fire. Queen Elora leans closer, kissing your mouth softly before she pulls back and trails kisses down your throat. Her fingers smooth over your skin, scraping along your ribcage before they settle against your hips. She pulls away and glances down, allowing her fingers to dance along <<if $folds is true>>the slickness that coats your folds<<else>>the sensitive skin of your hardening erection.<</if>> Your hips buck under her touch and she smiles at you. "Let me take my time, $name," she breathes. "I want to savour your taste." It is all the warning you get before her mouth moves to settle between your thighs. A groan leaves your mouth and you arch into her touch as her tongue and lips move to encircle your heated flesh. <<if $folds is true>>Her lips press soft kisses against your slick entrance and you whimper when her tongue darts out to lap at your essence. Your hips roll into the wetness of her mouth as your own hands move to stroke at her dark hair, threading through the curls as she licks at your heated skin. Soon, it becomes too much and the pressure deep in your stomach tightens until it snaps. You cry out, writhing as a wave of pleasure drowns you until you can barely breathe. Your head spins with dizziness and your thighs quiver where they are held firmly by Queen Elora.<<elseif $length is true>>The softness of her mouth swallows the head of your length and you groan, feeling her swallow you into her warm mouth. Your hands grasp desperately at the sheets and you feel yourself shudder in pleasure as she licks and strokes her way up your shaft. She is beautiful in the dim light, with her black curls falling over her shoulder as she drinks in your taste. Like this, she continues until you are bucking against her mouth and your hand settles over her dark hair. She swallows your length further, until she pulls back and lets her fingers stroke you faster until you are tensing with unspoken pleasure. She presses down over your length, swallowing you completely before you spill into her lips. Her tongue darts out to taste your release before she pulls away and grins at you, breathing raggedly.<</if>> <<elseif $chp8_53B18_sex2 is 3>> "I want to feel your hands on me," you whimper. Queen Elora smile and leans to kiss you deeply. Her tongue swirls along yours and you shudder when her hands grip your waist as she pulls you onto the bed. You collapse beneath her and moan when her teeth nip at the side of your neck. Slowly, she kisses you like a woman who has all the time in the world. You are consumed by the heat of her breath and the languid scrape of her tongue, shivering only when she pulls away to <<if $chest is true>>stroke against your chest<<else>>knead the softness of your breasts<</if>>. "Elora," you whimper. "Please." She pauses and withdraws from you, taking a moment to study your writhing form and desperate fingers that clutch at her waist. Gently, she trails a path down your stomach, settling against your hips before her fingers finally find the place you want her to touch you the most. <<if $folds is true>>Her palm settles over your mound before she allows her fingers to stroke gently. The touch is too light, you think and you arch towards her hands, wanting more. A smile tugs at Queen Elora's lips and she presses into your folds, her fingers delving between the heated flesh as she begins to explore you. Your eyes flutter closed as a low moan escapes you. Her fingers stroke and curl, pressing deeper before she thumbs your swollen bud. You writhe beneath her, as pleasure consumes every thought, leaving you gasping and whimpering in desperation. Queen Elora's strokes become faster, ugring you to follow your climax until you shatter beneath her, a quivering mess of desire.<<elseif $length is true>>Her fingers are soft as they begin to stroke you, taking time to explore the underside of your shaft. With her other hand, she moves to cup your sac and gently kneads the soft flesh there. You buck against her touch and she grins at you, her hands relentless as she strokes you. You harden quickly, dripping with glistening arousal, as her thumb slips over the engorged head of your erection. Your body burns as she continues to stoke, rubbing it in time with her deft kisses on your chest, your belly, down between your legs. Her nails scratch lightly against your sensitive skin and it causes you to groan as pleasure surges through your body. All at once, you tense before you cry out, spilling across her fingers and palms.<</if>> <<elseif $chp8_53B18_sex2 is 4>> "I want to feel you around me," you groan. Queen Elora's eyes dart towards your hardening length before she turns to grin at you. Her eyes are dark with arousal and the sight is enough to send a heat of want through you. You stumble after her, moaning when she pushes you against the mattress and moves to straddle your hips. Reaching out, you clutch the side of her face and drag her close, kissing her deeply before pulling back to nip at the side of her neck. She gasps under you kisses, before pulling back to stare down at you. Her dark curls gleam under the flickering lamps and the swollen red of her lips only makes you buck against her soft entrance. Queen Elora closes her eyes, shifting so that her slick folds brush against your twitching length. She grasps your wrists and you move to hold her close, breathing in her scent as she positions herself over you. Her hair falls forward to cover your face and the air between you thickens with anticipation. You can hear the sounds of people celebrating in the garden beyond, but it does nothing to stop the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears. Queen Elora presses her forehead into yours before she sinks onto your erection. You groan as her wet heat spreads around the head of your member. She is tight, impossibly so and you grasp her tightly as she eases herself lower. Her velvet heat soon swallows you entirely, until your hips are pressed against each other and there is no space left. "Elora," you groan, clutching her close. "You feel so good." She kisses you hungrily, her tongue tangling with yours before she begins to move against your length. Her hands grip your shoulders and she rocks against you again and again, pushing herself onto your shaft while she moans loudly. The sound sends shivers through your body and you thrust against her, wanting more than anything to reach climax. Her breath catches at the movement of her hips and your erection throbs in time with her movements. It grows harder and harder the longer she continues to rock against you and it takes all your willpower not to push into her faster. Eventually, you can hold back any longer and from the desperate pleas that escape her lips, you realise that neither can she. You tense, feeling her muscles tighten around you before you thrust one last time, spilling deep inside her. You continue to thrust, shallow movements until you hear Queen Elora cry out, her entire body clenching as she follows you into your shared release. <</if>> [[Next.|chp8_53B18_fade1]]