He knew this place, entered it at his queen's shoulder too many times to count. He was within the Erd Tree itself! Owain's eyes could not absorb his surroundings fast enough; why was it so dark? Why did the roots not glow with their usual warmth? His eyes slid upwards and for a long moment he simply could not understand what it was he looked upon. Blinding gold pierced slender wrists, burning red speared through a withered core. Lo, It was the cursed dream again! This time, though, it was different. Too real, no mere shifting mirage. Owain smelled blood, watched in helpless panic as golden ichor slowly wept from his lady's ghastly wounds. He felt present, he felt awake. Alas, he'd had enough of this! He needed to know!
Who had dared to crucify his queen?
This sight unobscured by the fog of a dream was too much. It was far too corporeal! His lady truly was suffering. The breath was ripped from his lungs, rage and horror entwined in agonizing wrath flooded the whole of him. "M-my lady! My lady! Tell me, how I might save you!" He did not understand, could not. How was he here? Was this a vision of the future? Did he see the present? Why was it so different this time?
Her eyes were closed but he knew she was aware of his presence. More terrible ichor bubbled from her cracking lips. "Wain." She breathed. Dread! This whistling croak was not his queen's velvet voice, it could not be!
"Marika!" He cried desperately. Owain ran towards his queen but it seemed no matter how fiercely he stumbled and crashed forward, he came no closer. "My queen, how can I- wh-what must I do to save you?" His own voice had been shredded to frantic hoarseness. Owain felt as if he were ablaze, such was his all consuming frenzy.
Her mouth moved, but he could not hear her low plea. Her golden eyes snapped open, wild and sightless and rending. Owain was thrown from the vision.
He awoke in truth with a roar. Ranni was awake, eyes only half open, frost and glintstone at her fingertips in an instant. The grand door of their room was slammed wide and four of his sentinels sprinted forward in a wild panic, halberds and shields raised. Owain distantly heard alarm bells and the calls of his soldiers beginning to sound in the distance.
Ranni was frantically speaking to him but he could not breathe. He clenched his fists tight in concentration. His skin was glowing with a searing, blinding gold. It was unnerving to see his bones, the lines of his blood. Owain heaved shuddering gasps while Ranni rubbed at his back and waved his sentinels away. He was sobbing, was he not? His sweet wife clutched his face to her breast, her trembling fingers working soft motions through his hair.
It was several minutes more before Owain had calmed sufficiently to speak. He wiped at his face with a palm, trying to clear the tightness from his throat. "F-forgive me, Ranni."
"A memory?" She murmured, lips to his brow.
"The dream." He rasped. "T-too real."
"Perhaps the gainment of a shard..." She hummed in thought.
He tried to pull from her, but her grasp on him only tightened. "I must tell-"
"Already have I bade them stand down. Thou shalt stay here, safe in mine arms, my dear." She pulled him slowly, tenderly, back to their pillows.
Owain felt like he might begin crying anew. "My br-brightest shining star."
Her concern was clear on her tired face. "Mine guiding light." She wound herself with him, tangling them together snugly. "I shall cast a dreamless sleep upon thee. Rest, Wain."
He already felt the beginnings of her spell before he responded with a mumbled 'Aye'.
He awoke to the scribbling of quills. Owain gently threw an arm over his wife's lap, knowing she'd be reclined beside him. He was sure she was currently making notes in several books at once if the symphony of writing utensils was any indication. "It feels so odd to wake after you." He mumbled into his pillow.
A smooth hand came to caress his cheek. "I'll not begrudge thee rest, husband. I enjoy thy sleeping face."
"It seems as if I am always resting." He groused, carefully extracting himself from their sheets, so as not to disrupt her work.
Her nails traced delicate shapes into the skin of his back as he sat and stared at the wall. "Waitest a moment for me and we can break our fast together." He stood slowly with a nod. Owain did not think he deserved a woman so amazing as she.
Mother Rennala watched him too closely, sharp eyes too wise. He did not meet her gaze, she'd always read him too easily. Radahn at least, pretended he knew nothing. Owain morosely chewed a piece of bread. He'd spread perhaps too much of the spiced mixture before him and was forced to down the entirety of his water. "Wain?" Ranni nudged him with a foot.
"I am fine." He groaned as he felt a memory coming on.
He wondered why little Messmer's eye was gleaming so very mischievously as he tugged him along to the smallest of the palace dining rooms. The prince and his younger sister had taken to pranking him lately. It'd been causing Owain no end of lingering paranoia. He'd found his boots filled with acorns just this morning. As they entered the room in which his lord and lady waited, his eyes scanned the table set before him. Lords Morgott and Mohg must not be joining them today. He fought back his frown at the thought of poor Mohg.
"Hurry, Wain! We art late!" Chimed prince Messmer, who flashed him a gap toothed smile.
He dined with the royal family at least once a week, so the children should not be too excited at his presence. "My queen, my lord; forgive my tardiness. I was conferring with Lord Vyke and lost track of time." He bowed.
"Oh, do not worry, Wain, we have not waited overlong. Come, sit." His lady's voice held some levity, though he could not say why. Lord Radagon greeted him with a small smile, cradling a dozing Melina to his chest and gesturing towards Owain's empty seat.
He sat gingerly, wary after last week's pinecone incident. Prince Messmer climbed happily to sit close beside his mother. To Owain's surprise, the meal proceeded normally, despite his prince's periodic chuckles. He gratefully thanked Alecto as she came forward to refill his drink. He was quite taken with the fresh pressed orange juice the kitchens had been sourcing of late.
All four of the royals were watching him closely now, even a freshly roused Melina. Owain struggled not to furrow his brow as he took a sip from his cup. Why were they- Ah. He understood now. Within this new pour was perhaps the spiciest thing he'd ever tasted. He let not the fluster show upon his face as he cleared his throat. They had fooled him! His eyes flickered to the large pitcher Alecto held, why did his table mates not suffer as he did?
"Art thou quite hale, Wain?" Lord Radagon asked softly. The man's smile was slowly growing.
Owain was beginning to sweat. He cleared his throat once more but it was no use. "I am well, my lord. Do not-" A rough cough. "Do not worry for me." Goddess, even the skin of his hand was begging to turn a bright shade of red!
His queen must have bolstered both husband and children with spells when he had not been looking! His lady was smiling now too, a rare show of white teeth. "Really Wain, thou'rt looking rather…out of sorts." She pressed Messmer's face to her chest, covering him with a caressing hand. Owain suspected it was to veil the boy's poorly hidden grin.
Had they poured fire in his cup? How was the sensation yet lingering on his tongue? He felt tears pooling, and tried to devise a subtle way to wipe them from his eyes. "Be not afeared, my queen." The sentinel panted. Egads, this heat! He turned to Alecto, whose eyes were shining with mirth. No, she was in on this scheme as well! "Alecto." he pleaded, "Pray, I would be most grateful for water."
The handmaiden looked pointedly at the empty water pitcher that sat at the small table beside her. "Alas, Wain, it would seem there is no water to be found."
Alas indeed, he did not think he could bluff his way out of this one, not when his throat was filled with such fire. "Whosoever concocted this plot, I am bested. Please, my lady, save me from this molten tongue!"
The royals all laughed in full then, though none quite so hard as little Messmer. So he was the ring leader. "Forgive us, Wain." his queen asked lightly. "I thought we might indulgeth the children." She waved a hand and his mouth instantly cooled, Owain sighed in blissful relief.
"Please, my lady. The children are mighty enough without your aid." He laughed loudly. "I'll not turn a blind eye to this my prince, my princess. Prepare for my retribution in full!" Both children giggled, leaping from their parents' laps to scamper out the nearest door. Owain only sighed, these little devils had even roped in the Eternal One in their schemes! He idly wished they were so easily managed as Morgott and Mohg had been at that age.
His bread had clattered to his plate. Owain clenched his jaw, now it was even more difficult to meet Rennala's eye. The table was silent and the weight of their mutual stares of worry was too great. Owain decided now was as good a time as any to broach the topic of the queen traveling north with them. He cleared his throat. "Mother, I must ask a great favor of you." He said to his fidgeting hands.
"What wouldst thou beg of me, child?" She said gently.
Owain finally mustered the courage to look upon her squarely and found naught but kindness. He should have known better. "My lord Godwyn. His body lies beneath the capitol." Owain cringed as Ranni's nails dug into his knee. He belatedly realized he'd forgotten to speak to her about this beforehand. Damnit, man! "My lady Fortissax requested your aid, mother. That you might find a way to restore him to true life."
Radahn regarded him with incredulous eyes before ducking his head and returning to his plate; Owain would find no aid there. Ranni clicked her tongue in annoyance. The sentinel watched the water in his glass swiftly turn to ice. Oh, what a moron he was. "I hath forsworn the capitol since-for many years, Owain." Rennala said quietly.
Ranni could remain silent no longer. "Why must mother go? Thou wouldst… I can examine Godwyn, Wain."
"The lady Fortissax specifically requested that you not be involved, darling." His bride's eyes were thunderous but she bit her tongue. Owain knew he had not heard the end of this. He turned to the queen. "I know that I ask a great deal of you, mother, but it is only out of desperation. If I thought there was yet a better path, I would take it gladly."
"I am set on journeying north with thy company, regardless. We must see to Rykard before thou'rt waylaid in the capitol, my son." He watched the muscles of her jaw work for a moment before she continued. "I wilt examine the child. I wouldst have words with Queen Marika and- and with Lord Radagon. Caria will be a vassal sate no longer."
Owain thought his brows might have lost themselves somewhere past his hairline, this was momentous news. He hoped dearly that mother did not plan on waging war to ensure her independence. That would…complicate things. "I see. Then, we will go north together, mother. You are right, Rykard shall be attended to first." Why was Ranni looking even paler than usual?
The rest of breakfast was more tense than he would have preferred, with Ranni's continued silence unsettling him. She pulled him into a small alcove as they departed the dining room. They were hidden from other's eyes in the small space. "Do not lose sight of thy priorities, husband." Her slender fingers gripped his jaw, forcing his face up.
He tucked an errant strand of her lustrous hair behind her ear and saw her eyes soften despite her annoyance. "All I do is for you, Starlight."
She sneered. "Do not look at me like that, brute. I can not maintain my anger when thou'rt so charmin'."
"Me? Charming?" He smiled. Despite all the worries that weighed on him, Ranni could ever draw joy forth from him.
Her fine grows pinched, half-lidded eyes rolled in exasperation. "Aye, oafish one. Thou'rt charmin'. Even whence thou doth not tell me of thy plans."
He grimaced, he'd almost forgotten his idiocy, silly him. "Ah. F-" She slapped a hand over his mouth.
"Dare not beg my forgiveness! That is a request thou hast made too often of late."
"I-" He beheld the hurt in her gaze, though she tried to hide it deep. She was right, he'd long been slipping but let this last moment be enough already! "You are right, beloved princess. I have let other burdens scatter my mind. It was never my wish to hide this from you."
"I know." She kissed him gently. "Thou'rt noble and kind and I am so very in love with thee." She rested her brow to his. "Do not heed the sharpness of mine tongue, its edge is born of fear."
Owain wrapped his arms around her slender frame. "I will delegate more tasks. Oswald, Aldo, and Wolfram will take up a greater measure of my duties. You are right that I must turn my eyes to our family." He'd a great many things to do, but Ranni must always be first.
His men watched him in naked worry. Throughout the morning meal, the servants had practically fallen over themselves to ensure his comfort. During his daily inspection of his host; all the soldiers, not just his sentinels, were being over-eager to please. As he'd gone over logistics with Oswald, Aldo, and Wolfram; the three had bumbled over each other to take up more of his tasks. It was clear news of his…outburst the night prior had spread throughout the manor. The behavior only intensified over the next few days. It was embarrassing to be coddled like this. The weight of their concern was rather cloying and Owain wished something would call him from the castle.
He was granted his wish at the appearance of Yura. The man, even more bedraggled than before, met him in his office. "Highlord. There lurks cessblood within Liurnia that needs purging."
Owain appreciated the man's direct manner. "Then let us go forth, hunter." He stood, securing halberd and shield. Goddess, did he miss his spear.
Yura led him by grace to a rocky outcropping just north of the academy. The two men crouched behind a large boulder so as to obscure their silhouettes from the sky line. "Do you really believe one of these fingers brazen enough to skirt so near the academy? I've this entire region fully patrolled by both my sentinels and Lord Moongrum's knights."
Yura's dark eyes shone dangerously through the lattice of his helm. "Bloody fingers are crafty, sentinel. Full of cunning and wile. I've tracked this one some weeks, I think he seeks something within the academy gates. Alas for him he has no key." The hunter chuckled darkly. Owain rubbed at his beard, considering. Time would tell which of them was right, he supposed. He began to plot out a good route for them to take, that they might keep an eye abreast the land.
It was early evening when the assassin struck. The man's long, curved claws almost cleaved Yura's head from his shoulders before the hunter could bring up his long blade. As Owain went to aid Yura, some instinct in him bade him slash in a wide arch to his rear. Two more assassins were bisected by his halberd. An ambush! "There are more, Yura!" he called as he struck yet another assailant's blade aside.
The old hunter was too hard pressed to reply. Over the clangs of metal and shifting of feet, Owain heard clear Yura's pained wheeze. Had the assassin struck him? Owain barreled back, his pauldron slamming Yura's opponent into the decaying stone banister of the bridge they had set up watch on. The cretin's spine folded crookedly over the ledge and Owain cursed, he'd not meant to kill him! He needed more knowledge on where he might find his lord Mohg! Fie!
Half a score more of these rough cloaked fiends surrounded them, one with a mask similar to Varre's, though of a darker shade. Owain snarled as he pushed forward, so it was that rat that had plotted this. The battle was short, as this mottled crew was hardly a challenge. Though, Yura seemed to be flagging by the time Owain had a hand wrapped around the masked one's throat. Not that the sentinel had much space to talk, but when last had the hunter properly rested?
He tore free the mask from the man, disgusted by the mutilated face and wild eyes he found behind. "Where is lord Mohg?" he growled.
The man said nothing, opening his mouth and flaunting his lack of tongue. Owain almost snapped his neck, his fingers twitching against the ever present cries of the runes within. No! Ranni could snatch full this man's secrets! He must restrain himself. If only he'd thought of such a ploy with Nerijus! He cursed his thickheadedness. "My wife needs not your voice to bring forth your secrets, cur." The ghastly smile was replaced by a look of abject terror. Owain smiled broadly. He knocked the man lightly on the head, ensuring he was unconscious before turning to Yura. "Let us return to Caria, good hunter. I shall show you much deserved hospitality."
The ragged looking man pushed himself from the banister he'd been catching his breath against. "Aye, Lord Sentinel, I'd appreciate the welcome."
Yura now planned to join them north as well, citing another of his quarry. Once Owain had Tricia tend to the hunter properly, and one of the castle staff set to see to him, he and Ranni made for the old storage room that Selivus had used for his dark magics. The prisoners had long been freed or laid to rest, and the space had been cleared and cleaned of danger and muck. It was now a prison in full, the sole occupant, the assassin with no tongue.
"Ranni?" He asked softly. The dim light of the undercroft made it hard for him to make out her expression.
Her unfocused eyes snapped to him. "It would seemeth an outergod interferes with us once more. All I couldst glean from his memories was stars I hath never seen and a strange mausoleum, afore some deep magic rippest the man's…blood right from his body."
"The formless mother." Damn! He began to pace.
"Or another, skilled in her distgustin' magic, given his state." She gestured at the now corpse tied to a chair before them. Blood had burst from the man's eyes and mouth in an awful deluge.
Owain frowned at the corpse. "I had hoped to locate my lord Mohg."
"I know thou didst." Ranni took his hand, leading him out of the dark. "And thou shall, do not givest up thy hope." Owain appreciated her optimism but found it hard to replicate. He sighed, there was still much to do before their departure. Though, with his wife at his side, he was sure they would accomplish all they needed.
Ranni had almost completed fashioning her device for Blaidd well ahead of schedule. Their other party members from Stormveil would be arriving soon. This would be a massive undertaking. With so many he was sworn to protect in one place, Owain had recalled several hundred of his sentinels to the manor. Their journey north would be slow, but it would be safe.
He was not worried for Caria in his absence, not with Radahn and many of his Redmanes there to protect it. Radahn too, had been a great aid to him. Handling much of the deployment of troops across all the allied territories. Owain's sentinels would only follow his commands, but Moongrum's newly trained forces were eager to prove their worth to the returned general. Happy too, to work alongside the famed Redmanes. Owain suspected many of the soldiers shared family lines and allegiances.
He'd dawdled enough. It was nigh time to return to Altus.
Vyke knew not how long he'd been trapped in this prison. Trapped? No, it was his haven! It was the chains around his burning eyes! Mustn't hurt Lannseax, he must never bring harm to his beloved dragon. Or to…the girl…he'd tried to save the girl, had he not? He was oath bound, it was only right, the girl was innocent. Unstained by golden sin, unmarred by moonlit treason. All for naught, dead! She was dead! He pounded a hand upon his skull with a lingering groan, away madness! Would that the lingering wraiths at the edge of his sight granted him a moment's peace.
Was it possible, he wondered, to be mad for so long that one turned sane anew? This frenzy that had claimed him, the whispers and the moans, it was a painful monotony now. Nothing! Nothing to do but sit and ache. His heart ached, the cold made his bones ache, his eyes…oh his eyes ached surely worst of all. He was- He is trapped! Trapped! What a horrific cycle this malady was. He screamed with all his chest and knew no one would hear him. Vyke lay upon his back, staring up at the starless facade that held him tight.
Green! Verdant, searing, lovely emerald! He grasped vainly before his face. Oh to hold her again, to lose himself in the depth of her lovely eyes, instead of this ghastly frenzy. Strong fingers interwove with his, pulling down his arm. IT IS A LIE. "Do you not miss me, pretty bird?" Came her satiny, husky voice to his left.
Vyke turned in spite of himself, knowing he should not indulge these visions, knowing he could not help himself. "Every instant away from your side is an agony unmatched, my silver shine." His voice was ragged, intense in his emotion.
"Poor little bird." She purred. A hand, scarred and tan, traced the edge of his jaw. He could almost feel it. "Do you not wish to come find me? I await you ever so eagerly. Break free of this foul prison, I yearn for you, my knight." It was Lansseax's voice that spoke. It was her face, heartbreakingly beautiful, that smiled at him. Alas, Vyke knew it be only another trick.
"This flesh is charred by the crooked beast. Can- must not be freed." The mania was returning in force and he began to giggle. "Oh, Lansseax! Noble and mighty, my Silver Shine!" Vyke could not help it, he went to run his fingers through her glittering hair. "Oh, Lannseax." He sobbed, for his fingers only passed through the illusion. "Save me, beloved." He gasped. The knight curled tight into a ball, clapping shaking hands over his ears in a vain attempt to block out his wife's voice. "Aargh! Away! Away! Away! Away from me! Take this lunacy away!"
It was no use. He was trapped -safe- restrained! Vyke was trapped! The vision of his wife only continued to laugh as he wept.