"Forgive me, miss, I was not minding my steps!" Strong hands, mannerly and careful, aided her to standing once more, "Please, take this as remuneration, it should be well enough to have your dress cleaned." The man, unhelmed but clearly a knight of Leyndell by his armor, fumbled a few gold coins at her in a rush. Lansseax eyed them curiously. What was a little dirt? Certainly not worth such a quantity of gold.

She inclined her head, hiding a smile, "I have found most men would not take the time nor effort to treat such a lowly woman thusly." She'd disguised herself as a commoner human, that she might see the truth of this city her little sister so loved.

The man bowed slightly, "Prithee, judge not all men by such scoundrels. There is still honor among us." She inspected his face, his fair hair and pale eyes, his angled features. This human was exceedingly beautiful by their standards, was he not?

Happenstance might have had him stumble into her, but she saw this as an interesting opportunity. He seemed polite enough to answer whatever questions she might have, "Have you time, knight?"

"Aye, miss, are you in need of aid? Say the word and I shall do my utmost to avail you." Lansseax watched his worried face, surely such concern was atypical.

The form she had taken was rather burly for a woman, tall and muscular with pleasing features, It was amusing that the shades of their hair were almost a twinned silver, "Aid , aye. Aid in understanding. Walk with me, tell me of this honor you speak of." She put forth a hand daintily.

His expression stiffened, "Well I-" A hesitant smile graced his face as he tucked her hand to his elbow and gestured her forward, "Well I can not speak for every knight, but I hold my oaths quite dearly. What specifically would you like elucidation for, Miss…"

She wrapped her other hand around his armored bicep, holding back a grin at her subterfuge, "Lana. Name me Lana."

"Miss Lana, then." he nodded, eyes earnest.

She allowed herself to be steered around a small puddle, this area of the city was not entirely wealthy, but like all of Leyndell she'd seen so far, it seemed safe. "I would hear of your oaths, of your code. I would have you show me some small part of this city of gold, that I might see it with clear eyes, unhindered by…irritant men."

He laughed, and the bright noise made her refocus on him. Such openness pleased her. His straight teeth were very white, she noted, "I would be honored, Miss Lana. It is growing late, perhaps I could treat you to a meal as well?"

Lansseax' gaze found the darkening sky, she'd not meant to dally in the streets so long, but his offer was oddly enticing to her, "Perhaps you could. Such a thing would make me…happy." She realized she was not lying and almost laughed at herself.

His lovely face lit up with excitement, "Ah, then I know a wonderful spot, just within the upper city! Fear not the cost nor code of dress, they shan't bother you with me at your side." The way he set his shoulders when he spoke thusly was endearing.

"Most generous, Knight…" she trailed off.

He cleared his throat, "Vyke. I am Knight Vyke."

"Most generous, Knight Vyke, and why would your presence be enough to ensure serenity?" These humans and their ranks would never cease to confound her, such intricacies in their society.

He grinned, eyes crinkled. "I am a captain of the Leyndellan knights."

"Such an illustrious escort, have I." Lansseax watched him through her lashes, this man was fun to tease, she found.

Her ribbing seemed to go entirely over his head, "And a proud one for so elegant a lady. Come, Miss Lana, you said you had questions?" Lansseax allowed herself to be led with less unwillingness than she'd expected from herself. A meal and some answers could hardly hurt, she mused as they made for the upper city.

Lansseax shook herself from her reverie as Fortissax spoke in her mind. "There sister. The sentinel's maps were correct."

Her eyes found where her sister had gestured. An evergaol, larger than most of those that they had thus far investigated, sat atop the nearest of the flat peaks. Lansseax had little hope her pretty bird would lay within, she'd given up such optimism around the mark of the three hundredth gaol. They would see, she supposed.

The giant's forge loomed in the distant north, could her knight have truly ventured so far alone? If only Lansseax had known he had returned from death, if only she had not been wallowing in grief tucked away in Farum Azula. She growled, she'd spent long enough moping about. Her sister and she alighted upon the icy stone with scarce a sound, taking their human forms.

Fortissax had stopped asking her if she was ready every time, Lansseax knew she too was tired of their gainless hunt. The dragon smashed a fist into the imp statue, breaking the enchantment and revealing the gaol's sole inhabitant. The figure, in slagged and charred but still recognizable armor, scrambled to his feet. Lansseax simply stood still, mute. Her knight. Her pretty bird was at last within her grasp. Why then, did he not rush to her side?

What use was sleep, he wondered. What use was waking when his nightmares were unending? Vyke stared at the vision of his beloved, ignoring the tears that sizzled from his eyes. It was too real this time, too true. FALSE, IT IS FALSE. She did not shimmer as she should, "Away specter. Pray, give me but a moment's, one breath's, respite from your vile torture." When last had he spoke aloud? She used to say she enjoyed his voice, would his Silvershine still love this horrid rasp? Vyke had spent too much time screaming. Too long!

"Vyke." Oh, but her voice was as enchanting as ever. The velvet husk of it just as bewitching as the very first time she'd said his name. Alas that she whispered it with such sadness.

He hurtled backwards, tripping to his rear in his rush. "Away -away- away! You must stay away, I will not be tempted, I can not go free!" Even as one hand dragged him further, the other reached out to her, treasonous in its longing.

His dragon stepped towards him, arms held out yearningly. LIE, IT MUST BE A LIE. "V-Vyke." No, no! She must not speak his name with such grief, it would unravel his already fraying mind.

He slammed his fists to his head but it was not enough, he threw off his helm, abandoning its safety to strike even harder. "No! No -no! The crooked beast can not be sated! Would that you were true, woe if you were. I would go to you, my Silvershine. All would be undone!" His words betrayed him, he must not show the thing his desperation.

Another figure, TWO? There were two? Spoke gently. Too gentle! "Sister, the Carian queen shall know what to do, perhaps Tricia."

Carian queen? Rennala of the Full Moon! Dangerous, too dangerous! "The queen can not be corrupted! Too powerful is she, no.~" he wailed. Vyke at last realized the false sky had been replaced by faint stars and began to scream. Illusion! Illusion! He could not be free!

The terrible, wonderful vision crept ever closer. Oh, but why did she cry? "Come, pretty bird. To me, t-to me my sweet husband. I will see you well again." No, no Vyke! Do not be deceived! No, fool, do not reach for her! NO.

He quieted his hoarse shouts, he stilled his panicked hands. She was not real, could he not dispel her with a touch as he had always? "Lansseax." he croaked. To feel her name on his tongue, to hear it spill from his wretched lips. He wept.

The other figure caught his Silvershine with a cautious hand. "Careful sister, the frenzy is upon him. Let not your mind be taken."

What was that his bride held? What pungent scent, it was…he could feel a long forgotten calm overtaking him. "Hush now. Rest now. I have you. There, my sweet. Drink but a sip." He did as the vision, TRUE, IT IS TRUE, requested. Callused hands cradled his face, the shock of cold tears splashed against his cheeks. As Vyke fought closing eyes, he cursed. What a pathetic fool he was, he'd allowed himself to be…to be…

Louise was honored by the trust her lord Ofnir placed in her. To be granted a mission of such great importance was a privilege unrivaled. One she never could have imagined when she had been inducted as a confessor all those centuries ago. For this purpose, she knew she'd been called as tarnished! To kill the traitor highlord! To secure the peace of the lands from his false justice. Louise regarded her veiled form with humming joy.

Long had she prepared for this role, the only face that would have the blasphemer drop his legendary guard. Louise twirled a magic-made, vibrant red curl with a finger. Taking several deep breaths before committing to this perilous course. Though her soul sung with pride, a treacherous part of her feared the Lord Commander.

If only those poisonous black knives had not disrupted her lord's plans so very much! Their attack on the sentinel's force was supposed to have taken place when the caravan were vulnerable on the plains of Altus, but too many of her lord Ofnir's soldiers had been forced to swiftly relocate. Base after base was besieged by the assassins, it lit a righteous indignance in her.

And so their next contingency had been compelled. Louise would take the form of the witch Ranni, traitor princess, and catch the highlord in a moment of surprise. He was formidable, but not even he could survive a knife to the heart from another tarnished. Their spies within his lesser forces were few, but well trained. It was with careful precision that they planned their strike.

Annoyingly, Ranni rarely left the commander's side. A moment such as this was precious, one they'd been waiting weeks for! The princess was to spend the day in the royal library, away from the highlord. Louise strode down the golden halls of the palace with all of the arrogance and regality of the carian princess she had long studied.

If only Ranni were not so tall! Veiling magic could only do so much, and the towering shoes Louise wore were difficult to walk in. She did not nod to the many servants she passed, the princess' pride would never note such lowly beings. She did not acknowledge the sentinels that rushed to walk at her back, Ranni ignored them with determination so Louise would do the same.

At last she was before his study. Louise cursed her rising nerves, and pushed through the ornately carved doors with no fanfare. The grace stolen eyes of the Lord Commander snapped up from the documents he studied at his desk. Were his eyes always such a searing gold? Had they always seen through her like this?

He rose from his desk, rounding it with a smile, "Starlight? Forget something did you?" She had long watched him from afar, but to be so close to him like this was unnerving. He moved with the fluid motions of a warrior, Louise's sight lingered on his scarred hands and the sinewy muscles of his forearms. She'd seen him kill with those hands as easily as she breathed.

The confessor unintentionally halted her steps forward, her legs would not move, such was her sudden fear. She cleared her throat, feeling at the dagger in her long sleeve with a hand. She could not falter now! "I simply wished to see thee, Owain, that is all." Her voice had hardly wavered and the masking magic held! Good, good so far.

The commander chuckled, a breathy noise for so large a man, "I'd have thought you'd grow weary of a face as unsightly as mine, I am glad to be wrong." Louise was petrified into stillness as his hands came to rest upon her hips, pulling her forward.

She stumbled forward on the unwieldy shoes, bubbling a response, "Thou'rt not…thou'rt not unsightly, Lord." She'd slipped up with his title. He was too close! A weight sat on her chest, a strangling truth. Within his arms like this, her body knew she risked gruesome death.

Why did he scowl at her so? Did he suspect her already? "Ranni?" His voice was so tender, that could not be an expression of concern! "Are you well, wife?" His rough hand, its thick calluses belaying a light, loving touch, cupped her cheek. She had to create space, Louise could not reach her dagger when pulled so close like this!

He made to kiss her, but she turned her cheek swiftly, offering him her neck instead, "Y-yes. Most well." Goddess, the princess lay with such an imposing man? All her bravado was lost, this beast could kill her at any moment, she had to act now!

Thankfully, his lips stopped before they could meet the skin of her throat, "Wear you a new perfume? You rarely stray from your lilac scent. Do not tell me I have forgotten a special occasion." He pulled away and gentle fingers caught her chin, the commander's eyes unnerved her. They burned with a purity she'd never beheld among the orders of gold, the glow was mesmerizing.

"No, you have not." she whispered, dazed. Her terror had reached such a height, she felt she might faint.

Those scorching eyes of his narrowed, Louise prayed it was not in suspicion, "Why do you tremble? Shall I call for Tricia?" Oh, she was trembling, her trembling legs could barely hold her aloft. Her trembling fingers itched to grab her hidden blade, but he was still too close.

"I-I am fine!" She exclaimed. Louise had wasted too much time! She must strike now. She turned from him, as if in one of the princess' pouts, before at last gripping her hidden dagger and whirling to strike at his exposed chest.

In her haste, she had misjudged his height, the blade sank instead into the space just below his ribcage. Louise felt a powerful gust of wind as one of his hands shot forth with force enough to scatter her hair into her face. His fist froze but an inch from her cheek. Hah! He could not strike her, not when she looked as his precious princess!

The highlord regarded her with ultimate confusion and rising horror, the dolt still did not think she was an assassin! "Ran-" he coughed his disgusting blood on her face as she pulled away from his enfeebling hand. She should withdraw the blade to strike again, she must ensure her task was done before she returned to Lord Ofnir.

Louise's hand had only just wrapped once more around her dagger's hilt when the room swirled with blue mist. Her heart almost stopped beating in her chest, no, Ranni was supposed to be gone!

"Wain? I felt your ma-"

Both highlord and witch vanished in more blue mist before Louise could blink. She had to escape! Louise went to turn but realized her legs were encased in ice up to her knees. When had-

The witch returned.

Lunar Princess Ranni appeared before her, dark eyes wide and hateful. The confessor could not find her voice, could not think, could hardly remember her own name. She had never known fear before this moment, not truly. The magic in the air, the danger, panic took her. "To use my face to wound him so. To drive a blade into his chest with my hands. I will not forgive this."

"Trait-" Her…her tongue! The witch had frozen her tongue! Louise began to pant, the ice in her mouth making it difficult to breathe.

"Dare not speak, thine voice wouldst sully mine ears. Nay, it is not words I will wring from thy treacherous lips." The princess, blank faced, shoved Louise's chest forcefully.

Louise fell, but her frozen legs did not fall with her. Goddess! Oh, goddess the pain! This horrible ache was worse than any agony she had ever faced before. Louise began to cry but her tears were quickly ice upon her face. At her whimpers of suffering, at last the witch smiled. It was cold, so cold, devoid of even the idea of warmth.

"To think, indolence claimed me. I hadst thought Ofnir wouldst not dare strike within the palace. If thou hast studied me, thou shouldst know how I despise bein' wrong."

Louise operated on base instinct, she had to get away from this demon! She began to push herself backwards with trembling arms, only to find that they too had frozen. A low, lingering groan tore itself from her mouth. Goddess save her, please save her! This pain, it was too much to bear!

The princess stalked forward, sinking heavily to straddle Louise's hips. That ghastly smile would not leave her pale face, it only grew larger, stretched wider, a grotesque imitation of joy. "My husband shall live, even now he is mended. Thy efforts, thy work, all for naught. All thou shalt gain from this sin is suffering." The witch began to strike her with slim hands. Each blow wild, imprecise and ineffective. Louise had trained in war for centuries, the exertions of this sorceress should not even faze her.

It was the guttural snarls of wrath that unmade her. It was the sight of her own blood mingled with the golden ichor of the princess. Louise could do nothing, could say nothing, as the witch rained down countless blows to her face, her chest, her neck. Any and every place Ranni could reach was bombarded with vengeful punches.

Long minutes passed, Louise had at first tried to free her arms, but the witch struck them and they broke from her shoulders. Louise tried to struggle, to inch away, but ice held her torso fast and the princess sat too secure upon her hips. Her mind, the sharpest of tools, long honed in the fires of the confessory, was wilting. Louise made only guttural moans, terrified grunts at each clumsy strike. Her tongue was frozen but her mind raced even as it broke. She had been wrong, she should not have feared the simple highlord. He was too earnest, of course he would fall for their trap.

She should have feared the witch.

Ranni regarded the pile of flesh before her with supreme disdain. She tried to flex her hands but in her fury she'd broken them quite gruesomely. The princess screamed her hate at the cretin that had almost stolen Owain from her. It was only the dull glint of dull eyes that met her, the woman's mind nothing more than what could offer automatic breaths. Ranni panted, punching the assassin one last time and wincing as she at last felt the pain in her hands.

It was unsurprising that Ofnir had placed treacherous wards on his servant. Unsurprising but still infuriating. When Ranni tried to peer into the woman's memories, all that Ofnir had allowed to be freely found was his insufferably smug face giving the order to enact their plan. The bastard had known this woman would likely fail. Ranni's eyes snapped to the study door, the pounding was getting louder, even through the ice she'd placed against the entrance.

A growl escaped her bared teeth, she was still filled with such poisonous loathing and had nowhere to discard it. Ranni yelled anew before slamming her head into the assassin's several times. The pain was terrible but at least her anger was slightly diminished. Ranni spat in the craven's eyes with a sneer. She made sure the woman was still breathing before stumbling up onto shaking legs. It would not do to allow this rat escape through grace.

"Ranni! Open the door or I shall break it down!" Owain? That oaf! He should be resting!

"Hale am I, husband! Calm thyself!" she called, reigning in her dark rage.

Ranni looked around the study, at the woman's severed legs, her crushed arms, the blood that soaked the golden flagstones. She had made a horrific mess of Owain's office. She looked too, at her shattered hands. She frowned. Should Owain see the beast she had been…no, she must sort this before he entered. She waved an arm with a wince, sending the assassin and all her parts to the infirmary, she waved the other, turning her ice to mist.

She could hardly go to Tricia without seeing him first, he'd turn the entire palace on its head in a panic. She nodded to herself, breathing through the last of her anger. Ranni would just have to hide her hands. She waved away the ice at the door. "Wain, to me, beloved."

The door exploded inward with enough force to knock it from its hinges, though she did not think Owain even noticed. He was shirtless and covered still in his own blood, but at least Tricia had closed his wound. Ranni almost smiled, he would run through the palace in such a state, just to see her safe. "Starlight! R-ranni, your face! Are you alright?" Damn! She'd forgotten her face!

His arms crushed her to his chest and she cringed in pain. "Tricia shall seeth to me and the assassin, I wouldst have answers from her."

He pulled back, hands around her face. The way his thumbs brushed across her cheekbones was calming. The way his lips landed gentle kisses to hers even more so. "Sweet Starlight. My beautiful wife. Forgive me that I did not see through this ruse. My heart aches that you were forced to come as always to my rescue." his low whisper was scratchy, her Sunbeam had worked himself into such a fervor.

"Always askin' forgiveness for wrongs not thine own." She murmured, hands at her back.

"Ever am I the most profound of blunderers. Come, I would not scar you with my shoddy healing." He swept her into his arms as more of his sentinels ran at his back. She hid her hands in her long sleeves. Ranni could have simply translocated them to Tricia's side but she would not deprive herself of such a precious moment as this. The clang and shouts of what seemed like hundreds of golden knights were discordant, the exclamations of the servants would have been embarrassing, but none of it mattered. Ranni only continued to breathe in her beloved's scent. He lived. He breathed!