He truly despised bureaucracy. It's only saving was that it was at least somewhat of a distraction from the unrelenting turmoil that had overtaken his heart at the loss of the grace of gold and the re-aquisition of the great rune of binding. Headache and heartache in tandem, he was such a lucky man. Though, after the last few days of his beloved once more having physical form, he truly did feel lucky. Magic, grace, strength, and power; he'd give it all away in an instant if it meant he could idle away his days peacefully at her side.

His princess was ever his ship in this storm, she had even taken over preparations for the grand feast they would hold at his lord Morgott's arrival. Something Owain dearly appreciated, as the planning of such an event was beyond tedium for him. With all of the logistics of planning a wide scale campaign into the Caelid Wilds, he would take any aid available to him. The manor and its town seemed much quieted with the departure of so many of his Sentinels.

A knock sounded at his study door and he swiftly lifted his head from his hands. "Enter!"

Owain frowned at the sight of Oswald's worried face. In the few weeks since Owain had recalled his squire to Caria Manor, the man had been mother henning him incessantly. Poor Oswald had almost collapsed from shock when Owain had told him the truth about the loss of his grace and magic.

His squire at least looked healthy now, tanned and bright eyed and much more expressive. "My lord, Aldo has sent word of a matter that he believes you must see to personally. A tarnished has been hunting our sentinels. Already three has he slain."

Three? It was a feat to fell even one of his men, three was worrying indeed. Aldo had been right to call for him. Owain rose from his seat, scooping up both spear and shield as he walked. "We will tend to him at once, Oswald. Where have these attacks taken place?"

Oswald followed at his shoulder as the commander strode down the hall. "On the north shore of Lake Agheel, sire. The fiend strikes as our men patrol through Murkwater cave." Ah, so he struck while his men were vulnerable in the narrow canyon, that helped explained his success. Owain suspected there was more at play here.

"Ready your mount, Oswald. I must inform Lord Moongrum and Ranni of our departure."

"Yes, sire!"

As he could no longer travel by grace, their journey south took nigh a week. It was fortunate that he had need to check in upon Lady Nepheli and her eager tutor, Lord Haight, as she apprised herself of the affairs of Stormweil. His lord Morgott had declared he would arrive at Caria Manor by the next full moon, so Owain desired to rid himself of this new pestilence quickly.

Their stop at the fortress was brief, only time enough to rest for the night and number his gathered forces. Near seven thousand Sentinels, knights, and assorted pages, squires, and footsoldiers. A sizeable army in these new lands, but only a sad remnant of his old order. The majority of his troops that had survived the shattering were yet stationed in Leyndel proper, that they might guard the golden city. Vice-Commander Reginald had assumed Owain's command of eld, but knowing that layabout, Owain was certain he welcomed back his old position with open arms.

It was some eight days after he and Oswald had set forth from Caria that the two sat atop their mounts at the mouth of the treacherous ravine. "Eyes up, Os. Let us not add to this wretch's tally."

"Aye, my lord." His squire hefted his halberd.

They made their way cautiously down the canyon. His men had cleared it some months ago, but such recreants had a habit of springing back up swiftly. To Owain's surprise, his quarry awaited them in the middle of the water covered ground. His garb was strangely ornate, almost…ceremonial. Owain halted Torrent, eyeing the nearby cliffs, there were remnants of anchored lines and he spotted a tangled net in the branches of a jutting tree. None of his sentinels would be so unskilled as to fall to a knife wielder who faced them on foot. No, this craven had plainly ambushed them with traps, knowing their commander himself would come to stop him eventually. He had drawn Owain out. Did he seek Godrick's rune?

There were likely still traps in the low water that he could not see to hamper a horse's movement. After flashing Oswald a hand sign to stay back, Owain dismounted with a scowl. "Surrender to me now and face immutable justice. Assail me, and accept inalterable death!" The assassin said nothing, only drawing a pair of vicious looking daggers and widening his stance. What was this? A trial? A challenge? Whatever this man was playing at, it was certainly foolish.

They crept towards each other, weapons high. His enemy was surely swift, but he lacked the reach of Owain's spear. Lacked Owain's fury and bulk. They clashed but the sentinel found himself almost disappointed. This man had killed three of his sentinels?

The assassin launched a spray of red magic at him, which Owain caught on his shield. The spell sizzled against the enchanted gold. Blood magic? A twin to the knight his men had put down at Fort Haight. That was dark, disgusting, sorcery. Enough of this pathetic snake!

The sentinel surged forward, shield slamming into the knife wielder with all the ponderous weight of his armament. The man was sent flying bodily into the cliffside, where he writhed mutely in the shallow water beneath.

Owain sneered, such an underhanded foe. He strode to the man, knocking him to his back with the haft of his spear. Oswald plodded his mount forward carefully to Owain's rear. The assassin glared at him balefully before coughing out, "The lord of blood will rise supreme, Luminary Mohg will light our way!" His breath stole from his lungs. What had this rat just said? The sentinel swayed on his feet, bracing himself for the memories.

"She calls! She calls! She calls!" Lord Mohg screamed out. His lord's hands were clawing desperately at his own ears and Owain was struggling mightily to prevent any self harm.

"Be not afeard, my lord! I am-" Owain was cut off as his head smashed once more into the stone wall behind him, he grit his teeth, hot blood pooling on his shoulders.

"Sentinel, where is Tricia? My brother needs his medicine!" Lord Morgott, who yet crouched before the writhing form of his brother, called to the nervous sentinel that manned the door.

"She should be here shortly, my lord! Ser Oswald himself has gone to fetch her." Owain grimaced as more screams shook dust from the ceiling. It'd been weeks since Mohg had had an attack of this potency, Owain had thought he was improving!

"Aldo, stop dawdling! Tell Oswald I bade him hurry!" The breath was knocked out of him as one of Lord Mohg's knees impacted his unarmored ribs in his frenzy. He tightened his hold on his charge, trying to cradle the boy to his chest in the way he knew called him. "Hush, my lord. Hush. She can not harm you here, I will not let her." Owain tried to keep the strain from his voice, tried to sound gentle; it was not working.

Lord Mohg slammed his horned head into Owain's chin. " Wain, Wain, Wain! She is calling me. The red mother, the blood mother! Formless in the dark!" Lord Morgott ran his hands soothingly down his brother's back, but it had no effect. Owain hated this Formless Mother, despised her with every fiber of his being. Her poisonous whispers had turned Mohg erratic and violent. Such a sweet soul reduced to the sobbing mess before him.

The attacks had started when Mohg was just entering adolescence. Though Owain had been able to calm him fairly easily when he was still a small child, Lord Mohg was almost a man in full now; with strength befitting one of Lord Godfrey's sons. It was a few more minutes of struggle, Owain desperately trying to keep the prince from harming himself, before Tricia, Aldo, and Oswald all flooded through the door.

"Oswald, Aldo, his arms! Lord Morgott, aid me with his legs." The four leapt to their tasks while Tricia administered Mohg's sleeping draught. Its potency was getting far too concentrated, soon they would need to seek out other measures. As Lord Mohg's desperate cries began to subside, Owain spotted the quivering of Lord Morgott's lips. "Leave us." He commanded softly to his sentinels and the perfumer. They complied wordlessly, closing the heavy door behind them.

Lord Morgott's face was shadowed but he could see the glint of falling tears. Owain gathered his Lord Mohg in his arms, mindful to secure his tail, before making for the boy's large bed. "Please, my lord, his sheets."

The other prince was silent as he aided Owain in securing his sleeping brother in his large bed. Owain stopped Lord Morgott with a gentle hand upon his shoulder before he could leave. There were few in all the land's between that could rival his great height; but both twins were showing no signs of halting their growth, coming now to his chin. He met the prince's angry eyes with a look of understanding.

Lord Morgott in particular had grown distant and aloof since his early childhood, so rarely displaying the softness of his youth. Owain brought the young man to his chest, making no comment as soft sniffles turned to wracking sobs, as loose fingers turned to frantic fists around his middle.

The twins had so few that they could turn to in times of hardship, Owain had long served the role with pride. Lord Godfrey cared for all his children deeply, but the elden lord was a hard man, and had trouble connecting with his younger sons. The twins had more opportunity to see him now, as the elden lord spent less time abroad from the throne and the sentinel was making small steps towards improving the relationship.

The eternal queen as well, loved her children, but not in a way that they would easily see. Queen Marika was almost always toiling, she relied on Owain and Tricia for regular reports on her children's well beings. Owain had recently been organizing more family meals at least, though he knew the queen was aware of his machinations. Lord Maliketh too had been attempting to close the gaps between monarch and children, and Owain was grateful for his aid.

Lord Morgott shrugged off his embrace. "Thank you, Wain." He said softly. The sentinel loved the princes dearly, and it broke his heart to see them both so distraught.

"Always, my prince."

Owain snapped back to his current time. He snarled in fury at the assassin. "Explain yourself! What do you mean 'Luminary Mohg'?" The man only stared sullenly back at him. "I'll have your secrets yet, filth." Owain swiftly broke both of the wretch's legs with the butt of his spear. There would be no escape for him. The craven screamed loudly in pain before Owain knocked him senseless with a boot. He'd drag the dreg back to Stormveil himself, let him rot in the dungeons, Owain would have his answers. Turning to his squire, Owain sourced sturdy rope from his saddlebags and hogtied the assassin atop the rear Oswald's steed.

He'd just secured the last knot when he heard footsteps in the water behind him; Owain spun, spear at the ready. Oswald too had halberd raised, this newcomer had taken both of them by surprise? Owain knew he was dangerous just from that fact alone. "My apologies sentinels, that I arrived too late to aid you, I've been hunting this one, Nerijus, for some time now."

The figure was clad entirely in garb from the Land of Reeds; the easy way he held a hand at his sword hilt denoted an experienced warrior. "Name yourself and your business, stranger." Owain called out, his spear remaining poised.

The figure lifted his hands, but Owain could not see his face under the elaborate metal work of his hat, so he would not yet lower his spear. "I am Yura, Hunter of Bloody Fingers. I've already named my business." His voice was a growling rumble

"Seek you the shards of the elden ring?" Owain would not get caught unawares again.

The man sighed. "No."

"Seek you chaos amidst my new peace?"

"No." Owain's eyes narrowed, he would give this Yura the benefit of a doubt.

He lowered his spear. "Who are these bloody fingers?"

"Cessblood, in service to a dark demi-god. They seek ever more blood upon their blades."

What fel news, hopefully it was one of the minor demi-gods, one of those not born from Marika. He prayed that it was not…. He swallowed hesitantly, reluctant to hear the answer. "Which…which demi-god?"

"The omen, Mohg." The man's intense eyes shined from between the gaps of his hat.

Owain felt as if his heart had turned to hardened lead. His Lord Mohg, turned to darkness? He laid a hand atop Oswald's steed to brace himself, yet another memory?

Osgalath was such a pushover with the twins. His normally surly warhorse turned into a child's pony whenever Lords Mohg and Morgott appeared. As the trio ambled slowly through the large market square of the upper city, the sentinel chuckled at Lord Mohg's actions. The child enjoyed draping himself over Osgalath's broad neck. "Careful that you do not fall, my lord." He called out clemently while shifting Lord Morgot to sit more securely before him.

"Do not worry, Wain. Osgalath will catch me!" The dark haired child giggled, patting the horse's mane.

"Brother, wouldst thou really wish to be caught by horse teeth?" Little Morgott frowned.

Owain left the siblings to their bickering, keeping a constantly shifting gaze at the crowd before them. This was the first time that his queen had allowed him leave to take the royal twins through the capitol without their veils. She wished to begin to combat the harmful stigmas against omen children that had grown wildly out of control. The sentinel was overjoyed at this development, but would take no chances. Osgalath carried them three astride, so that his charges were quite literally always within reach.

Oswald and Aldo rode at his shoulders, and the thick crowd parted before them easily. Many knelt as they recognized him, but Owain could see the confusion and sometimes even revulsion on the faces of passersby as they spotted his two lords. The citizens had only seen their ensorcelled appearance. The budding horns and tails, the thick fur at the princes' arms; he knew it would shock them. He had only hoped the citizenry would be compassionate enough to hide their intolerance from such innocents. Owain scowled behind his face plate, could his people not see their lords for the playful children they were?

Owain's hand shot out and snatched the large stone from the air before it could impact either of his young charges. His eyes snapped to the perpetrator. "Halt! Seize her!" He boomed out. Instantly the crowd around them froze, with the few around the stone thrower leaping frantically to do as he commanded. The woman had tried to stay hidden, not expecting Owain to call upon her neighbors. What supreme foolishness was this? To assault lords of the golden line in broad day light? Surely even such idiocy must have its limits. "Stay here, my lords." He murmured softly. "Wolfram, Aldo!" He dismounted as his men came abreast with Osgalath, each taking a lordling in their arms. Both children were looking fearfully at the masses around them, crying out for Owain before his men began comforting them.

The kneeling masses parted for him hurriedly, groveling with their faces smashed to the dusty street. He made his way slowly to the pinned woman, who was struggling in grasps of four of her countrymen. Another man was fearfully wringing his hands beside them, two children clinging to his pant legs. The sentinel halted before them, looking down at the writhing woman in silent fury. "They are without grace, my lord!" She called out, wide eyes ablaze with the queen's gold, voice manic with blind hate. "They are sinful! They are ill omens! Such beast-"

He crouched, bringing the stone above the woman's head in a curled fist. "Do you know what you have done?" Owain crushed the cursed rock in his grip, letting the dust fall into the woman's face. She sputtered, tears streaming from reddened eyes. "You have assaulted two of the golden lineage, almost brought harm to Queen Marika's children."

The frozen citizens around them collectively gasped in surprise, the woman's face went slack in terror. "M-m-my Lord. I d-did not know. Please, For-"

"Be silent." Her teeth clicked shut. "Did you think random younglings were being allowed to ride astride my war horse for the novelty?" He growled out a frustrated sigh. "It matters not. Your ignorance will not save you." Owain's hands twitched; her crime was worthy of swift death, but he would rather not expose his charges to such terrible violence. He turned to his captains, bringing a flat hand over his eyes. Owain made sure the princes' gazes were covered before he reached down with a swift hand to gather the front of the woman's thick robes. He held her up, that he might meet the traitor's eyes. He lifted his visor, the woman beginning to sob at the sight of his heavy scowl, her selfish tears were ugly.

"Please, my lord! Mercy!" The man that must have been her husband cried out, flinging himself to Owain's feet and kissing his greaved boots. "Please, great lord! Do not leave my children without their mother!" Many of the citizens around them cried out with their own pleas for clemency, voices muffled as they met the ground, but the volume of so many made their wants clear. Such fanaticism surely bred stupidity.

His lip curled in disgust, they would seek pardon for this bigotry? "Hark!" His voice was guttural, Owain made no effort to hold back his rageful growl. The woman who he held before him in a clenched fist, whimpered in fear, her eyes burning red and cast down. The crowded market square regained deathly silence. "Those children you call omens; they are under the protection of the eternal one. They too, are citizens. They too, are beings worthy of respect and care." He roared for silence at the beginnings of dissonance from the kneeling mass. "You will cast all hate in your hearts towards them away. You will keep them safe, happy and healthy. You will obey the edicts of the great queen. You all will do as I have said, or you will know the wrath of gold."

The sentinel's eyes seared into the face of his prisoner; she was an ordinary looking woman, plumply framed, finely clothed, burning eyes lined with stress. Even were his lords not of noble blood, to assault a sentinel, much less Highlord of Leyndell, was a crime almost always granted execution. Should he kill her here to make an example? Or would she become a martyr? "Wain! Let her go!" Lord Mohg?

"Show her our mercy!" Now Morgott as well? Owain sighed in frustration, his lords were so pure of heart, but this mewling pestilence was undeserving of their grace.

He flung the woman from his grasp, letting her fall in a jumble on the cobbled stone beneath them. She and her family, as well as the startled citizens around them, gazed up at him in naked fear; it unsettled him. "It is not my mercy that has spared you today; but the mercy of those you deem without grace." He slammed his visor back down. "Think well upon the nature of your ignorance; heed well my words of warning."

When he opened his eyes, it was murky water that met them. Owain rose, achingly slow, from the soggy ground. Oswald had leapt from his horse and stood over him protectively, the hunter Yura watching them warily. "Sentinel?"

Owain shook his head, too much of his past had bombarded him today. "Seek out Stormveil, hunter. I am Owain, Commander of the Tree Sentinels, I would give you respite and repast in exchange for more information on these 'bloody fingers'."

Yura did not speak for a long moment before nodding. "Aye. I'll make for it anon."

The three parted at the mouth of the ravine, Oswald having remained silent for the exchange. His squire knew him well, any mention of this 'luminary' would only send Owain into a rage. Just what had become of his lord Mohg?