As he appeared in the hold, he stumbled slightly, righting himself on the large table that was the places namesake. Owain took in the fabled hold and frowned, it seemed familiar for some reason. He sighed, sure that some new memory would play havoc on his senses soon enough.
He felt a rough hand on his shoulder and turned to find Lady Nephelli raising an arm in greeting. "Come, Owain, many of the members are not in attendance just now but my foster father awaits us in his office."
"Aye, lady, lead on." He cleared his throat, he needed to focus. The hold was large, with similar architecture and decor as much of Leyndell, though it was mostly covered in a thick coat of dust. A wide set of double doors opened to what he could surmise was Ser Ofnir's study.
The man stood hunched over a broad desk, scattered texts and assorted maps covered most every inch of it. Another man, foul smelling, leant against the wall in a set of eerie skeletal armor. Owain misliked him on sight. He leant his great spear against his shoulder as Ofnir greeted them. When the man spouted Owain he froze for a stuttering moment before continuing, "Hail, daughter; hail Owain. Yours is a face I'd never expected to see again, though I am happy to have been wrong." He knew him? Were they familiar enough to use their given names?
"Have we met, Ser Ofnir?" Owain squinted but no memory rose to his mind.
"Oh yes, we served Queen Marika together." Ah, there they were, he braced himself against his spear as his past came calling.
The man's fat neck writhed in his hands, though no protestations were made. Indeed, no emotion at all did this wretched perfumer seem to have. Owain tossed the bound man to the carved stone floor before the elden throne. The sentinel knelt beside the struggling monster, shoving his head to the floor in deference to the queen. "This is the man that leads the omen killers, my lady. Scores of children has he butchered; he and his ilk."
"Why have you brought this wretch before the queen, Commander?" Owain sneered behind his visor, ever did this newcomer Ser Ofnir irritate him. The man was seemingly incapable of leaving the throneside, perennially at Queen Marika's elbow as an 'advisor'. Though it seemed that his counsel only made the queen colder.
"I have slain much of his order, but know not where the rest hide, my queen. Now that the princes are safely within the palace, I would ask leave to send a force of my sentinels into the sewers, to cleanse them entire. There are too many chil-"
Ofnir scoffed, "You would set such a valuable resource as the Tree Sentinels on a lowly task like that?" How dare the sycophant interrupt him! If he were not in the presence of his queen, he would give the man a legendary thrashing. Queen Marika only continued to look down at him from her golden throne, eyes dark, lips downturned.
"It is I, not you, that commands the sentinels, Ser Ofnir. Trust that I can decide what tasks are fit for them." he turned his gaze once more to the queen, "I ask only for leave to shift their postings for a few weeks, at least un-"
"My most noble queen," Ofnir rubbed his hands together, clearly scheming something. "Would it not be more prudent for I and my confessors to question Ser Rollo? How can we be certain he has even committed the crime that Commander Owain has accused him of? We need not expend so many resources preemptively."
Queen Marika shifted in her throne, the deep sun of pre-dusk shimmering in her golden hair. She stared cooly at Ofnir. "Thou mayest question this man first." She turned her tawny gaze upon Owain. "If he is found guilty, and revealst his conspirators, thou may shift thine sentinels as thou seeth fit." She raised a hand before Ofnir spoke again, silencing him. "If thou ever show such disrespect to mine commander again, Ofnir, I'll have thee thrown from the city walls."
Owain smiled as Ofnir collapsed to a groveling bow and spouted his apologies. He ignored them, only continuing to smile at the queen; though she could be cold of late, the old queen of fire he knew still made the occasional appearance. He could not wait for Lord Godfrey to return from his rounds, he would set the queen once more to joy.
Owain caught himself on his spear haft before he fell to a knee. "I remember you now, Ser Ofnir." He did, even as he spoke, more moments of the sniveling rat were becoming clear to him. Always did Ofnir hide in the shadow of the throne, scheming and plotting. His confessors interfered in sentinel business, his plans always just slightly inconveniencing Owain. There was something he was still missing but Owain knew that Ofnir was a craven through and through, no wonder he did not come to Stormveil himself.
"I hope you look back on our many collaborations as fondly as I do then, Owain." There it was, that snide tone. "You did well to bring him before me Nephelli, though why are you not at Stormveil as I'd asked?"
He placed a gentle hand on the warrior's shoulder, "We slew the grafted beast together, and I claimed his great rune."
"Ah, I see." There was a dark anger in his voice. "Owain, give us the room. I've matters to discuss with my foster daughter." Ofnir would dare command him? Owain scowled.
Ofnir did not speak his title, though he plainly knew it. Such breach in decorum rankled Owain. The sentinel stared down at the hunched cretin for a few long breaths, just long enough for the skeletal armored man to uncross his arms and for Ofnir to raise his head. If he heard tell that Ofnir punished the daughter of his Lord Godfrey for bequeathing him Godrick's great rune, Owain would visit terrible violence upon the man. No one would besmirch a daughter of Godfrey while Owain yet lived. "Ser." He said curtly to the coward across the desk. "My lady." He nodded to Lady Nepheli. The double doors shut solidly behind him and Owain sighed. Why did such a man as Ofnir have to be restored as well?
While striding down one of the many corridors that lay between him and the site of grace atop the round table, Owain stopped in his tracks. A perfume that called forth days of old halted him fast. How did he know this scent? The sentinel followed it to stand before an open door, a large mirror and bed lay beyond. "Greet-" came a woman's voice before wind magic slammed him forward to land on the floor in a jumble. His helm was snatched from his head as he made to stand, he looked around bewildered. "So it is you." A silky voice growled out. Soft hands wrapped around his throat.
"My lady Fortissax." He croaked. She yet lived! He would feel more joy but for the hands around his neck.
"I had hoped it was an imposter Rogier spoke of when he brought that little girl in from the rain. I had hoped that you'd at least had the decency to stay dead."
His world was beginning to turn dark; was he to die his second death in this sanctuary of tarnished? How ironic. "I am gladdend," He wheezed in another breath. "To see you live, my lady."
She hissed in fury. "Swear it, swear it upon your princess' life that you had no part in his death."
"I swear it, upon my princess, Ranni of Caria." She would find this amusing, he thought.
Lady Fortissax finally released his neck, allowing him to gulp in great gasps of air. "Finally, I have a truth that I thought would be lost to me forever. I-I knew you would not act in shadow, Owain. You were ever as a brother to my Godwyn." She slashed at the air with a hand. "Argh!" She growled out as she began pacing. Her manner of speech had changed, did she hide in this human form for some reason?
Owain knelt, "I have some of the knowledge you might seek, my lady. I spoke with Oswald." Fortissax rounded on him, draconic eyes urging him to continue. "Lord Maleketh bade almost every sentinel in the palace to search for those that stole destined death. Vice-Commander Reginald left me to my post without Lord Maleketh's leave, as he knew I would ever prioritize your and Godwyn's safety."
Fortissax growled, "And thus, assassins were allowed to slip past what would have otherwise been a nigh impregnable shield. Given leave to butcher my beloved in front of us!"
"Yes, my lady." He said softly. "I could not say it before, but please, I beg you forgive my incompetence. I am ashamed that I failed you, Lady Fortissax." he bowed his head. He would have made further supplication but her eyes warned him of her impatience. Owain would find the truth of it all.
"Only if you forgive my misplaced wrath, Owain. I could not bear to be apart from him, I returned but hours after his death to secret away his corpse. I saw the bloodbath you left behind, noble sentinel. I should not have doubted your heart."
He smiled weakly, happy at least that she was safe. "As you command, my lady."
Her face wavered for a moment but did not crumble in despair. "Please, Owain, leave me. I have much to consider and now my plans must change. I will call for you soon, if you would come."
"Of course, Lady Fortissax." She did not smile as he left, but she did not snarl either, one must take small victories when speaking to a dragon.
Owain spent the next fortnight in frantic work at Castle Stormveil. He desperately longed to go to forth to Caria but he could not leave Limgrave in such ill repair. Rogier found him on the third day but he'd not seen him since. More and more sentinels arrived at the fortress by the hour, Lord Morgott had not spoken idly when he'd given him back his command. Dark riders as well, Night's Calvary were they called, came to report to him. In short order, Owain cleansed Stormveil of Godrick's lot, distributed much needed food out among the castle staff and surrounding villages, and deployed his sentinels to restore some semblance of order.
One company he sent to retake fort Haight and bring the ousted lord back to his castle. Another three he sent to retake Castle Mourne and aid the citizenry there. Still others he sent out to cull beasts or gather scattered townsfolk, rout the sellswords, or exterminate brigands. Any number of the miscellanea that Godrick had let build up in the territory, and the sentinels who had been tasked with the extermination of tarnished had been too busy to handle.
It was not until he wondered where exactly Oswald was that he remembered he'd told the man to await his next instructions! Owain transported via grace to the church where he'd first met Kale as soon as he'd finished that day's paperwork. The merchant was nowhere to be found, though his fire ring was still usable. With how late it was, he would have to seek out Oswald anon. Owain made a small camp and settled against the wall for the night, lest he be caught unawares.
Something was amiss, he could feel magic in the misty night air. Owain's eyes blinked away his sleep, only to be surprised at the figure of a woman robed in pale blue stood just before him. "I would have thee replace that armor from whence thee hast stolen it, before I visit death upon thee, baseless tarnished." Her smooth voice was low in fury.
Owain's head slammed back into the crumbling wall, he knew that voice. Fury roared in his gut as he rushed to his feet, snatching his spear from where it rest. "Who are you to steal her voice? To call me thief, you are bold!"
Neither moved an inch, only the softly billowing mist disturbed the grass of the inner church. "Whose voice?" The figure spoke again, without venom this time.
It only enraged him further, he slammed the butt of his spear on the soft clad earth. "To feign ignorance." His grip tightened as he stepped forward. "How dare you profane her with your mimicry. Tell me how came you to have it, tell me if you harmed her, lest you wish to burn golden!" His spear alighted, wreathed in holy shine. Even though his words were bellowed, the heavy air seemed to blanket them dull.
The woman kept her face hidden by the wide brim of her hat. "Remove thine helm." She said softly. Why was her tone so gentle now? It wavered and quaked like she was on the verge of tears. The sound of it was too much for him, an exact likeness of Ranni's lilt.
Owain growled out his anger, the removal of his helm would not avail her. He flung it to the dirt. Only then did she raise the brim of her witch's hat and the sentinel stepped back in surprise. This woman had two faces! One of shimmering shadow, and one of…porcelain? Was this a doll ?
The porcelain hardly moved, but he saw the half face of shadow contort in fury. "It is thee." She too flung away her hat, floating up to crowd the space before him. "Oath breaker! Liar! Thief!" Ever accusation came with the small pound of blue fist to golden chest plate.
Enough of this nonsense! Why must this creature sound so like her? He leaned forward menacingly. "Use her voice to call me thief again. I will not remain so clement." he growled.
"Thief! Kiss stealer!"
"I-what?" He was baffled.
"Thou were't to-" Spectral tears fell from her ghostly eye. "Thou were't to return what thou borrowed, Wain."
His chest hitched as he fell into another memory.
The gate of Caria Manor lay just behind them, all of green and lush Liurnia spread out before them. Such beauty everywhere and he could only look upon his princess. She scowled as she kissed him soft and sweet. "Return that to me soon, mine Sunbeam, lest thee wish to be named thief."
He clasped tender hands to the freckled porcelain skin of her face. " Always , Starlight. You have my oath."
He gasped back into the present. Cold, slender hands cupped his face, they played with his short beard as she was always wont to do. "Starlight." He whispered.
"Sunbeam." The doll whispered back, dazed. She nestled her face to the space over his chest plate. Dark blue strands tickled his nose.
"What magic is this, that you appear before me as your…childhood doll. A new spell of projection?" He remembered now the doll she held dear in the likeness of her teacher, the snow witch Renna.
"A long and heart breakin' story." A second set of hands wrapped around his armored middle as best they could but the doll had not the reach of Ranni's true form. "I heard tell of a tarnish hurtin' about these lands upon a spectral steed. I was bid to give them gifts from Torrent's previous owner." Her shadowed face scowled just like he adored. "Imagin' mine surprise and fury when I espied that tarnish in mine long dead love's armor."
Owain's breath caught. "Your love, still?"
Ranni looked away, eyeing the overfull moon. "My love always, till the stars burn out and I am dust." She whispered fiercely.
Slow tears pooled in his eyes. "All these years later?"
Two pointed, angry fingers poked him in the armor at his chest. "What is a few mere decades to our long centuries, stupid man. Or is thine heart so weak that death could change it?"
A frown turned his lips. "Ranni, I-" He shucked off his gauntlets, taking her delicate chin in his fingers in the way she pretended to mislike. It was icy cold and far too smooth. "My mind is not yet whole, my memories not yet fully restored." He thumbed her porcelain lips gently to quiet her. "But I will declare now. In my first life, duty ever came before love. It will not be so in my second. Can you forgive me my wretchedness, beloved Starlight, for dying so selfishly?"
Small hands wrapped around his palm, cupped his check and brushed his hair aside. "Alas that such a fool hast captured mine heart. If either of us must beg forgiveness, it is I. For mine dimwitted pride, for sins thee yet forget, and sins thou yet comprehenst. The dark moon's light hast been too cold to bear without thee." She paused. "I am not the same princess thou knewest." She said softly. Such woe he could see in her, it broke his heart anew.
He pressed a kiss to the doll's brow, a poor substitute. He could not wait to see her in the flesh once more. "Our love has transcended death. Let the past lie, our future awaits. Come morn, I make for Caria."
Ranni's spectral eye glistened. "I have missed thee more than thou couldst know, my sweet Owain." Her porcelain lips were so cold they stung as she pressed them to his. "My spell fades, I await thee at the manner."
"Ranni-" She floated back, to hover before him. Why was her smile so sad?
"I love thee, Owain." She whispered as she turned to stardust.
Owain stood still for a moment before a rumbling laugh built in his throat to burst forth like a freed river from a dam. He could not hardly catch his breath! That was so like her. He'd grown ever more disappointed as he'd wandered the Lands Between and see what a ruin they had become. Two of his old charges had he found, and each bloomed more sorrow within him. Ranni lived! Ranni loved him still! All his many tasks to handle fell away in the light of that revelation. Any trial would he face, any hell would he endure for her, his most beloved starlight.
A spirit summoning bell and small pouch of ash rested upon the ground at his feet, he chuckled, an odd reunion gift.
Oswald made an appearance early the next morn, just as Owain was finishing the last polishes of his chest plate. "Hail, Os." He called distractedly.
His squire met him with a clasp of the forearm. The man's skin had pinked and he looked much restored since last they met. A will to live perhaps? "Hail, my lord. How have you fared?"
Owain quickly updated the man on his travels. "I leave for Caria, I must go to Ranni. Go forth to Stormveil, you have command of the fortress until I can find a worthy lord."
Oswald slammed a fist to his armored chest. "Aye, my lord. As you command. I will await your next coming and lead as you have taught me."
Owain smiled at his squire, the man always did him proud. Though, perhaps he did not tell him that enough. "I am proud of you, Oswald. Beyond proud. You do me great honor. I shall return as soon as I am able." Had he spotted tears as he'd dissolved in grace? Oh, Oswald, you sweet man.