The news that her royal step-brother would be journeying through Caria was not exactly comforting. She and he were…friends once, bonded by mutual love of Owain. Ranni doubted that that friendship had survived the shattering. It was likely that Morgott did not know of her part in slaying his beloved older brother, but if the omen did ask Owain, Owain would speak only the truth. Her consort was incapable of lying to any of his lords, it would break his precious oaths.

A vicious part of her wondered whom Owain would choose, the lord he was sworn to serve or the lady he was sworn to love. Intellectually, she knew he would choose her, of course he would; but there was ever a treacherous corner of her heart that whispered cruel foulities. A part of her soul that resented him for not forsaking his duties that night she had appeared before him, that still was furious at him for not defeating any and all enemies that might bar his way home to her. Ranni knew it was illogical, but her newly beating heart would not relent in its pettiness.

She leaned back in her chair, regarding the letter from Morgott in her hands pensively. This was why Owain should never leave her side, never venture off without her. There was something in her that was twisted and gnarled, and it only unraveled in the presence of her Sunbeam. Curse the Dark Moon for stealin' his grace! He could have dealt with this threat to his sentinels and apprised his forces within a day, with time enough to be back by supper. No, instead he was forced to travel like a mere mortal when he was anythin' but. She had not magic enough yet to transport him about like she used to.

She hoped he would like the surprises she had arranged with Morgott and Iji; it had been too long since she had been able to give him a gift of great worth. Ranni sighed, placing the letter on her desk and her head in her hands. Her magic was returning yet slowly, but she should be reborn to her prior prowess by the time Morgott arrived at the manor. If her step-brother reacted violently to the revelation- no! Ranni would not be so pessimistic, there was no way the omen would choose violence when Owain was by her side; he cared for her sentinel too much. More than what paltry satisfaction a century's delayed revenge would give him.

Owain glared down at the blood upon his knuckles. The dreg, Nerijus, what disappointment . He would not speak, and Owain was not a skilled interrogator, he worried he would accidentally kill the man before anything useful was gained. Hopefully, Hunter Yura would keep to his word. As he started on yet more horrid paperwork, Owain wished for even one of Lord Rykard's talented confessors.

At the sound of hinges squeaking, Owain looked up. Oswald closed the door to Owain's office at Stormveil softly. "My lord, he is here."

"Send him in, Os." Owain said with a wave of his hand.

The man, Yura, entered with his latticework hat on his back and a wary look in his eye. "Lord Sentinel, I see the rumors of Stormveil's full restoration were not tall tales. I thank you for the food and the bed."

"You are welcomed and welcome, Hunter Yura. Sit, please." The man sat slowly in the chair across from Owain, the sentinel noticed his hands were ever so subtly poised to draw the blade at his side. This Yura knew Owain was dangerous then, but should have been comforted when Owain had allowed him to keep his weapons on entry into the fortress.

"You wish to know of the bloody fingers." The man's voice was gruff.

"Aye, hunter. All you know."

"A task I'll gladly accomplish then, the more that are warned of their ilk, the better." At Owain's nod, Yura continued. "They are an order of mad beasts. They hunt their fellow tarnished with two-fold purpose. That they may sharpen and soak their blades; and that they may see their foul lord upon the elden throne."

Owain winced as he accidentally splintered the ornate armest of his chair. Fie! Such a loss of composure was beneath him. "Their lord Mohg."

Yura eyed Owain's hands cautiously. "Aye. One of the omen cursed sons of Marika. Word of them reached even the Land of Reeds."

"Does this lord act of his own will or…or is there another that forces his hand? Who yet commands these bloody fingers?"

"Another?"

"Know you of 'The Formless Mother'?" Yura's eyes widened.

"Her voice, can you hear it, sentinel?" The swordsman's fingers twitched.

"No. I have seen what her whispers do to a mind unwilling. She is most cruel." Yura relaxed into his seat once more.

"Aye." He whispered, eyes melancholic. "That she is." Yura breathed out a long sigh. "There is one who holds command, who serves directly under Mohg. He is white-mask Varre."

Why did that spark some feeling in his chest? No, it could not be! "This man, does he approach newly risen tarnished with offers of friendship?"

Yura's eyes glinted hard in the noon light. "Aye. Met him, have you?"

Damn! Owain slammed a fist atop his sturdy desk, only to curse when it fractured and split beneath the blow. He'd yet to master this unwieldy great rune! Yura was on his feet with sword in hand in an instant. Owain slowly raised his own hands, palms open. "Apologies for my outburst, hunter. Aye, I have met him. I bade him begone from my sight but I wish now that I had slain him."

The hunter cleared his throat before carefully resheathing his long blade. "A task not easily done. I am glad, though, that you share my hatred for them."

Owain stood, shaking splinters from his pants. "Thank you, Hunter Yura, for the knowledge you have shared. Nerijus lay in the dungeon, Sentinel Rolant will escort you should you wish to end the cur yourself. Should you ever need aid in the future in combating these bloody fingers, I will lend it personally."

Yura took his proffered forearm with some hesitance, but his grip was firm. "I'll take you up on that offer, lord sentinel." Their mutual smiles were grim.

Having briefed Aldo and Lady Nepheli on the coming foray into Caelid, Owain set out to Caria without delay. His mood lightened the closer he and Oswald came to home. Perhaps Lord Morgott would know of Lord Mohg's whereabouts, perhaps the bloody fingers did not truly serve his prince. Any alternative would be better than his beloved prince having been fully dominated by the formless mother.

Ranni awaited them at the foot of the hills that led up to the estate, her thick, blue velvet dress fluttering in the cold winds, her nose red from frost. Carian Knight Tanya waited at her shoulder. Owain handed Oswald his helm and spear before urging Torrent into a gallop, that he might be at his princess' side even a moment sooner. After he dismounted, she met him with a rain of laughing kisses as he hoisted her in a circle, sitting her snugly atop his forearm. He covered his armor with his cloak so as not to cause her discomfort. "Starlight." He murmured into their shared breaths.

Her fingers were so cold as they threaded through his hair, how could Tanya let her go forth without gloves! "Mine brightest burnin' Sunbeam. Dare not leaveth my side again, Wain. The ache of thine absence is too painful to bear."

Owain chuckled, continuing up the gentle slope, their attendants at their back. "I missed you dearly too, Ranni. Mere moments with you and it seems that all that has burdened me so these last few weeks is but the weight of a feather."

She placed her teeth softly on his neck, she'd been biting him of late, saying she missed his taste. "I mean it, Owain. Where thou goest, I go."

They neared the growing manor town now but Ranni showed no sign or caring for decorum, so Owain did not either. He was not on formal duty, he'd no need to be such a stickler. "I can hardly take you to battle with me, darling. It is better you stay where it is safe, than for you to range out where it is wild with me."

She reared back, shifting in her seat atop his arm to regard him fully, eyes a growing tempest. Ah, he'd upset her. Must they argue so soon after their reunion? Icy hands clasped his face, her thumbs running along his cheeks. "Owain. Do not ask it of me. Pray, do not ask me to await thine return as I once did. Mine worry and my stress will destroy me." She kissed him forcefully, leaving their brows together. "Truly, it is safer for all these lands between that I stay with thee, and thou stayeth with me."

There were moments, little instances of their daily life, where Ranni let slip the darker side of her heart. Where the mania that had claimed her after his death would peek through her freshly healed soul. Owain knew his betrothed was dangerous, that she held a menacing wrath behind her sparkling eyes. He did not think she was jesting when she spoke to him like that. "Then we shan't be parted from each other again, Ranni." He held her gaze, saw the frostfire in it.

"So very wise of thee, mine consort." He smiled, he was trying his best to be wiser in this life.

It was not his lord Morgott, crucible blessed, that rode at the head of a long retinue of gold; it was The Veiled Monarch. Owain frowned from his place at the front gates to the manor-town. Why did his king not come as he truly was? Bigotry against Omens had become nigh non-existent before his death, had things changed? Slender fingers squeezed his hand. "Thy face, Wain. Mindeth that scowl of thine." He relaxed his brow with a sigh.

Owain stood alongside Ranni just behind mother Rennala. The three, along with a few of Owain's sentinels, had come to greet his lord Morgott properly at his arrival to the manor. As his lord neared, Owain squinted at his horse. It had such a distinct pattern beneath the bulky golden armor; pure white with four black socks. Surely it could not be… Osgalath? His body rushed to greet his beloved warhorse before he caught himself.

Oh what a joyous day! To see his lord and his horse at once! He saw Ranni smiling at him from the corner of his eye. "Is this your doing, my love?" She nodded, hiding her grin with a hand.

"A surprise. The first of two, my dear." The way her nose scrunched in amusement made him desperately wish to kiss her.

Owain leaned over, so that only she might hear him. "You are wonderful, thank you for the gifts." He whispered softly. "Do not expect to sleep very much tonight." Her eyes positively glittered as she kissed his cheek.

Lord Morgott finally reached them, dismounting from Osgalath with the grace befitting his station. Owain saw himself in the way lord Morgott flipped his resplendent coat across the saddle. His horse had not noticed him yet.

"We greet thee, King of Leyndell." Queen Rennala said solemnly.

King Morgott nodded, golden eyes shining strongly. "I thank the noble Carians for their hospitality, and greeteth thee in kind." His lord's gaze caught his and Owain was caught off guard by just how closely King Morgott resembled lord Godwyn without his omen characteristics. Owain smiled warmly, they had much to discuss, but he would not allow such dark tidings to shadow this day.

After his retinue had been settled, King Morgott summoned him to his chambers. Owain entered after greeting the sentinels that stood guard at his lord's door. They were some of his best, Owain was happy to see that not all his brightest warriors in the capitol had fallen in the shattering.

His king sat unveiled by the hearth at the far side of the room. "I am here, my lord." Owain could not contain his grin, which seemed to surprise the other man.

"Owain." He said, before pausing. This meeting was far removed from their last, Owain remembered so much more of his lord now. Centuries of love and care had been returned to him. He took slow steps forward until he stood an arm's length from the other man. He would forgo his usual courtliness for this, he need make himself 'clear as moonlight', as Mother Rennala had.

"Much of my past has returned to me since last we met, my lord. I would say it now, afore anything else." He clasped a gentle hand on Lord Morgott's shoulder, it was amusing that he now had to look slightly up to meet his king's eye. "I am so very proud of you, Morgott. For your efforts to maintain peace, for your struggles in the shattering. You are an excellent king and a better man than I. I love you very much, child."

His king was silent, only staring at him with an inscrutable expression. "I hath been lost since thy death. First father, then mother and Maliketh; to lose thee and-" His voice hitched. "To lose all of my siblings to that pointless war…." At last his lord let slip his embittered tears. "It was all so horrible, Wain! So much death, such violence; and all for nothing!" He shrugged off Owain's hand to begin pacing before the fire. "Why could they not see I only wanted what was best! I was the eldest! It was my duty to protect them and they turned on me, on eachother! They art betrayers , Owain!" Morgott whirled, misery plain on his anguished face.

Owain rushed to him, enfolding him in a tight embrace. "These shards corrupt, my lord. Not all can bear the weight of them so gracefully as you. Pray, do not think so poorly of your royal siblings, all of you have have faced challenges beyond what I had hoped for."

Lord Morgott pulled back, eyes angry. "I should hath collected all the shards then! That they-" He growled in frustration at the constriction of his throat. "It was my failing."

Owain lay a gentle hand against his lord's horned cheek, brushing his furred brow with a thumb. "Not your failing, Morgott. The queen's, the king's, and if not theirs, then mine. Dare not let the weight of it fall upon your shoulders. It was my duty to protect the golden line, to safeguard the peace of these lands. It was the dimness of my eyes, not yours; that allowed such tragedy to occur." For the first time since his lord was a youth, Owain caressed his silver hair. "But I am here now, Morgott. I will right these lands and our people. You need not bear it all alone. I am returned, your bulwark once more." His liege clung to him honestly then, loosing shuddering sobs into his shirt. Owain would make it right. He would begin to repair his lord Morgott's noble heart. Talk of Mohg and blood could wait until after the feast. He would allow them a few days of uninterrupted respite.

Owain had been smelling of horse of late. Ranni was delighted he was so enthused to have his warhorse of eld back, but after three days of stable scent, she'd start making him bathe before coming to see her.

Arista finished adorning the last of the dangling jewels through Ranni's braided hair. The princess regarded herself seriously in the oval of her vanity. To be restored like this…it was sublime. It was a surreal kind of bliss and Ranni felt as if her feet had yet to even touch to the ground. She felt breath in her lungs again, blood in her veins! Tonight, she would feast with her better half and toast to the shining future they forged.

The feast was a raucous affair. Thousands of carians flowed through the castle, faces hopeful, frames beginning to fill out after centuries of starvation. To have so many within the hold of the manor once more brought great warmth to her chest. She, mother, Owain, and Morgott sat at the high table. Mother kept surreptitiously wiping at her eyes, Ranni knew this was a very emotional event for her.

Owain was not one to imbibe alcohol, as he was ever cautious of dulling his senses, but even he was smiling drunkenly at her side. Countless minor lords; townheads, farmers, people of every ilk came to greet the carian royals and swear their fealty anew. Ranni kept a poor balance between her drunkenness and her courtly manners.

To be drunk again, to taste such wonderful food again, it was too much for her to keep her joy contained. By the end of the evening she was leaning heavily on Owain. Great stars above , he was ever so handsome. She caught herself giggling like an idiot several times but could not seem to help it. Ranni was so hopelessly enamored by him, she cared not if her people could see she was love sotted.

Her clothes were stifling, she was pleasantly drunk and happily full, Ranni desired greatly to be sated of something else as well. Owain's own hazy eyes met hers with a wide grin. "Shall we away, darling?"

"Aye, my dear." She murmured with a lopsided smile. They bid Morgott and mother good night over the cheering of their many guests. Since her resurrection, they had been making great and concentrated efforts at taking back all their stolen time. That evening was no exception, Ranni fell asleep beautifully entangled with the man that held her heart and soul.

Ranni awoke to the screams of dying men and the overwhelming stench of blood. What was- Gods, her head! She tried to will away the searing pain of her headache but it was futile, the princess swiveled her gaze, slowly taking in the scene of their rooms with growing horror. Almost ten corpses lay scattered about their shadowed chambers in varying states of dismantlement, more still, were dissolving into golden dust before her very eyes. Her gaze sought out Owain in a panic, finding him swaying on his feet before a large break in the wall that was adjacent to the inner hallway. Was he still drunk? Thick moonlight lit his back, deep torchlight his front. He held the man who's pained screams had woken her in a double grip above his head. Her consort was bare of any clothing save the ghastly viscera of their attackers. The conjoined blood steamed off his heaving shoulders in billowing waves, only thickening as he tore the pleading man in twine with an echoing roar of fury.

Ranni wretched over the side of their bed, this awful carnage was too abrupt so soon after such sweet dreams, the terrible stench was overwhelming her sensitive nose! Owain's head swung quickly to her and she almost wished it hadn't. So soaked in blood was he, so vicious were his eyes, so full of wrath, that Ranni almost began to weep. Her poor Sunbeam, to be so tormented. She could not recall the last time she'd seen him so infuriated.

Ranni feebly gathered the sheets around her with trembling fingers to fly to his side, but halted at his raised hand. "No, Ranni! Keep your wits about you. Arm yourself!" Owain turned to the last remaining assassin, a man armored in weaving darkness, trying vainly to crawl away despite his clearly shattered legs. "To me, defenders of Caria! Protect your lady!" He bellowed, the bass of it shook her frame even from across the room and she groaned in pain at the volume. She would never drink so heavily again, this wretched ache in her skull was beyond debilitating!

Ranni focused on her breathing and frantically tried to rouse from her drunken stupor, the manor was under attack, what was she doing sitting here staring like a frightened child! She gathered her robes up from the ground and her staff from its place beside her bed stand.

Ranni had just clothed herself when Linde, the third of the Carian knights that had sought out mother since the academy had been retaken, stumbled past Owain to fall into a kneel before her. "The M-manor is under assault, my lady. The queen and most all of our guests are yet hale. The academy sorcerers, Moongrum, as well as the lord hound remain at Her Majesty's side. These horrid Tarnished continue to rise from their deaths!"

Ranni could see that Linde was heavily wounded, just how many had assailed them for a Carian knight to struggle so? Most likely a great number for them to reach even her chambers. Before she could reply to the knight, Owain began questioning the lone remaining attacker. "Speak, mutt. You are no Black Knife, they were women all. How many did Ofnir send? I smell his stench on you." Her sentinel hauled the man up by the throat

"I'll- ne-ver ta-" Owain growled in frustration as he snapped the man's neck, he discarded the dissolving corpse into the hallway. He turned to Linde.

"How many yet remain, Linde?" The carian knight shifted to face Owain, swaying on her bent knee. "Some two score tarnished. Already, a few hundred mortal men have we slain. I know not the state of King Morgott." Owain swore, his eyes swept the room, only softening when they met Ranni's

Metal clanking down the hallway alerted them to the arrival of Oswald; he too, was covered in blood and was missing his helm and shield. "My- my lord! We are assailed! The sentinels are split between Lord Morgott and Her majesty!"

Owain's eyes were slowly clearing of his bloodlust; he blinked down at his gore soaked front. "With Ranni, Os. I know of what is upon us. Heal Linde." He noticed Ranni's furrowed brow. "And tend to Ranni's hangover."

"Yes, sire!" The sentinel readied his seal. The Carian and her knight sighed in twinned relief as Oswald cast several healing spells in quick succession.

Ranni began to hurriedly wipe Owain clean with their sheets, that he might actually clothe himself before rushing off to battle. She knew he would go forth bare if she did not remind him, the fool. He shucked on his pants gratefully before a quick hand, now cleaned of blood, caught her chin. This rascal, he knew she liked when he did that. Ranni looked down at him, warning him with her eyes to be careful. "Stay safe, Starlight. I know you will not stay put so I ask that you only follow when you are prepared, I will see to these cowards." She felt heat rise to her face, when he spoke to her like that, it made her heart flutter with the same potency as their first meeting. She nodded with a resolute smile. She wished she could kiss him but even with soiling all their sheets, he was still too covered in gore.

"Oswald, Linde. Dare not leave her side." He commanded forcefully. Both soldiers saluted fiercely. Owain sprinted from the room with thunderous footfalls, snatching a fallen sentinel's halberd as he went. Ranni prepared herself for true battle, she'd not let any harm befall mother or Owain. These foul knaves would pay dearly for this.