Hiraeth [Open]

The young woman remained lost in her thoughts, contemplating the rather disconcerting dream as she continued to wander through the market to the inner city. They had drawn so much of her focus, that Stella had not bothered to take into account the various wares and trinkets adorning the numerous stalls that dominated the sandy square. She did her best to avoid letting anyone into her personal space, yet given the nature of the size of the passing crowds, it was an effort that became more futile by the growing minutes. A city in darkness, a rival still believed to be dead- What sort of dream had that been? More importantly, why was she having it at all? There was that fear for the safety of those back home creeping up again. What dangers were they facing without her there to help Cal protect them? Did his Light recover from the experiments? Could he even manage the feat of safeguarding the throne against the elites? Gritted teeth were bared as she fought back the urge to cry in penance for her inability to return to them. As if tears could even muster in the swelter of this sun’s unrelenting blaze.

The heat of this place was unbearable. How anyone could stand to live in this hotbed was beyond her guess. A brief squint betwixt fingers toward the sky told her there were more than four hours, give or take, before an anticipated sunset. With it would hopefully come a joyous reprieve from the intensity of a proverbial inferno. For now, all that could be done was to find some form of shelter from the sun, and hydration of any form. A rumble of what sounded like thunder would prelude the sound of the ocean. It was so sudden, the unexpected crashes of aqua against the various vendors and their merchandise would startle the queen, so much that Fas was instinctively summoned to her grasp. Stella paid the surprise summon little mind as she looked for a source of the flood.

A sudden, unexpected pain ran through her, as she felt herself tackled into a collection of boxes. Sharp snaps of wood and upheaval of sand filled her ears, serenading a voice whose words were indiscernible among the shock. Before Stella knew what was going on, she found herself rolling onto her stomach among the debris, casting a scowl down the street in time to see some buffoon in a blue overcoat dashing away with her rapier in hand. In all her years of possessing these inherited gifts, never once did anything so ludicrous like this occur. The very thought of it all was almost laughable, were it not for the discomfort of a sore shoulder that began to pick at her. Certainly a story for Chronos or Vir to get a jab in at her over, if this ever came up in the future.

The thief would get no further than twenty or so feet from the queen, before she would push herself into a kneel. Extending a palm out toward the direction of the thief and her property, her fingers would coil into a fist, which would prompt the sword in the pickpocket’s possession to vanish in a brilliant flash of sparkles. Fas would return to Stella’s grasp instantaneously, the familiar weight of the weapon pulling on her arm, before she stabbed the earth, leaning into it as she helped herself to her feet. When composure was found, she threw out her sword hand to the side, prompting the weapon to vanish yet again in the same fashion. Silently cursing the pain as she gripped her possibly bruised arm, the young royal skimmed the crowd for any signs of the thief. She took the time to brush the sand off her pants before starting down the street in an earnest march, before pausing as she heard hasty footsteps approaching from her flank.

Stella paused as a collection of burly, soaking wet men with sword, whom she could only presume to be the local guard, would approach the scene she had been part of. ”You there, girl! Have you s-“ She interrupted him abruptly by pointing a finger down the street in the direction she had last spied the blue overcoat. The lead guard made a grunt of thanks before the repetitive sounds of Squish! Squish! Squish! faded down the street into the parting crowd. Stella looked on after them, then cast a look back to the subsiding flood that had devastated the far side of the marketplace. Something about that thief told her those guards were in over their heads. It wasn’t really her obligation to help, but it was then that she recalled the intent behind this adventure Chronos had brought her on. Odds are he’d want to know why she didn’t lend a hand if she chose not to. Stella was almost content with such a decision, yet she wasn’t going to abide by it. She shook her head out of frustration, an exasperated sigh escaping her lips before starting after the thief and the pursuing guards.

This was already turning out to be some kind of day.

For those that knew her, she was rather nimble even without the abilities via the Light of Libra. Though Stella quickly came to find that despite the husky size of these guards, they moved with a speed she had trouble keeping up with in this heat. Trained conditioning in their native atmosphere, and an apparent disregard to care for the safety of anyone whom got in the way, would make one guess on first impression these soldiers an unstoppable hunting force. Stella wandered through the flank of this proverbial storm, witnessing several offended civilians picking themselves up out of the ditches into which they had been cast. The last few guards of the group, of which she made her mark and quarry, vanished into an alley. Stella stopped abruptly as the air filled with screams, indiscernible sounds she found too grotesque to describe, until she rounded the corner.

An abhorrent sight met the young royal, as brave hunters so valorous, reduced to petrified and crippled messes. Those whom had not been stilled by the stone, either rolled about in fear, ran headlong into barrels, walls, and each other alike- Some screaming they could not see, others trying to scream only for their voices to fail them. One guy in particular kept asking the crowd what the hell was going on. Another was busy trying to replace a petrified comrade’s broken arm he had so clumsily dislocated. The list went on, yet among all of these frenzied, afflicted stalwarts of the sand stood out a figure Stella recognized to be the thief- revealed to be an apparent magi. Her focus shifted among the crazed guards in disbelief, before resting on where the failed darkness dispersed, eventually wandering up to the disappointed magi’s bright cerulean orbs. The reactionary yell would indicate he was upset she had followed- What a pity.

Stella crossed her arms as she looked upon the magi with an indignant air when he spoke to her, bleating on about the burn suffered unto his hand. Served him right- suited him well. A reminder to never try something so foolishly absentminded again. Though judging from the way he handled himself, Stella doubted it was a learned lesson that would stick. She cocked a brow and shifted her weight when the enigma drew then dropped his sword, rolling her eyes when only then- when pain struck a cruel reminder, did the thief abandon the sack of loot in favor to wield the weapon. Stella fought back the urge to scoff when he threatened her, like this was a scene ripped from some cheesy two decade old fantasy film she and Moira would watch sometimes on the weekends.

Looking him up and down with a royal air that could only be summed to utter the internal thoughts of You’ve got to be kidding me- Stella would debate how to handle the situation. She peered passed the magi to look upon what remained of the guards, those still afflicted having somehow found relief in unconsciousness among their petrified brethren, and found the urge to laugh instantly dashed from her mind. Focus returned to the threatening spell-sword with an understanding of what she stood before. A well of potential power masked within an unassuming guise of an obnoxious fool. Though was he really to be so easily taken at such a value? This man was dangerous. She kept her guard up with this one regardless of how harmless he appeared, standing there so flustered, a shade of embarrassment, with his little man-made craft pointed her way.

”I will admit, I have never met anyone stupid enough to try something like that,” she noted, nodding to the afflicted hand with a small tug at the corner of her lips. An amusing and satisfying penance in her opinion. Though the situation still begged the question of what to do with him. The authorities had been momentary downed, scattered, hopefully with any possibility awaiting reinforcements. For now it stood to her, the bystander that had been into the chase after this lunatic simply by her desire to see rightful justice done. He was hurting and stealing from people, this buffoon in blue needed to answer for the crimes committed. To Stella, she didn’t care whether she got an apology for the transgressions against herself from this man, only that at the very least, such a courtesy could be done for those whom he had harmed today.

”So here’s what’s going to happen- Thief. You’re going to give all of that back, and apologize to those you stole it from-“ she would nod at the sack of loot by his feet. Arms would uncross, a familiar flash would gleam as the rapier returned to her grasp, raised to point at the magi’s nose. ”Or I send the Sultan your ashes in a jar with a pretty little blue bow. Your call, Charming.”

It wasn’t often that the young woman found herself playing the authoritarian, at least in this sense of the matter. Stella almost felt like that one girl in class, who was standing up to the bully or class clown for taking their antics too far. The attempted theft of her sword had been the proverbial gum in her hair, and this obnoxious magi, the insubordinate whom had all the hall patrol chasing him to and fro. It would stop now though, and with any luck she could try to talk some leniency into the authorities over his punishment. Though not many people who weren’t familiar with her face would never take the threat of incineration seriously, there were few who would. Even back home, there were people in Libra who believed the Light was nothing more than a myth, a folkloric bedtime story meant to aid the young their dreamscapes. These new places were bound to laugh at such an idea. As far as this boy was concerned, she intended to lock him in a furnace of sorts by all she had said. Were she in possession of all the memories pertaining to the inherited gifts, it wasn’t that far beyond the realm of possibility.

The reaction to the magi’s tirade of courage attempting a resurgence surfaced in yet another eye roll, though the young woman would yell in pain as darkness clouded her sights. W-what the hell-!? Her freed hand raised, attempting to fruitlessly wipe whatever had afflicted her eyesight, as for the moment all she could see was shadow. A knee found itself pressed into soft sand in the momentum, a gasp seething through clenched teeth as Stella tried to fight the annoyance. She didn’t see it coming, but another surge of dark would course through her body as a hand was rested on her shoulder. It almost burned like fire, stung like acid, chilled like ice- All these things and more. Not life threatening by any means, but enough to tax tolerance, to stress stamina in a means to potentially test her ability to withstand what it could throw at her.

”Aggghhh!” she cried in pain. The coil wrap of Fas hilt would dig into her skin as she tried to refocus her attention on something self inflicted, to try to numb out the real cause, and attempt to somehow push her determination passed it. She could feel energy being sapped from her by some means, doubtlessly through the magi’s contact with her, it was the only explanation. She breathed heavily as a result, wincing as the osmosis took what it could from her. Though his last words before he touched her came to mind, which prompted a chuckle to rise from the depths of her throat. She would seize Blaise’s wrist, look up into his eyes, and smirk as eldritch rainbow embers would burn away the expiring darkness.

”Touching me...was yours.”

Embers would become wild fire that overtook her form, and ate its way around the magi through her contact with him. The multi-hued force would surround them both, until a flash would overcome them before the pair would vanish. Another flash but a few feet away further into the alley, and Stella would aim to use the disorientation to help attempt to push Blaise away from her personal space. The suddenly freed hand was brought up, before a trio of mana orbs would coalesce before firing at the magi. Whatever it hit would result in a hefty explosion of non-elemental energy, a cloud of sand being thrown up with the commotion as clothes and hair billowed away from the blast against their volition. Stella brought a hand up to her eyes to shield them from the oncoming sand, grimacing only briefly before the momentary gale subsided. Did any of it work? Did she put a clamp on that mouth of his by some grace of charity? Stella lowered a hand, and stared hard down the alley to find out.

The dust would clear and with it came the sound of the spellcaster’s voice, prompting a faint yet prominent sigh of relief in Stella. As irritating as he was becoming, there truthfully wasn’t any part of her that wished the Magi with a Mouth had died in the blast. Hurt? Most definitely. The families of the guards not going home tonight deserved something if he were to get away. She looked him over, noticing that the spell had taken its toll on the now thickly dusted coat, yet the man’s body was standing as though it hardly fazed him. At least at first glance it would appear that way. Her guard would instinctively go up, readying herself for an oncoming attack, as Blaise would begin to wave and twist his hands to and fro. That was when the unlikely happened, as Stella witnessed him conjure a replication of her Black Magic right before her very eyes.

Disbelief became concern as she heard the tone change in his voice; a tone much more accurately expected from a scholar of the arcane. He was able to sum up that she wasn’t from this world, as if it wasn’t obvious by her accent or manner of which she dressed. Though she felt her curiosity piqued when he made mention of something called a ‘World Heart’ signature. Exactly what did he mean by the term? The literalism of the phrase itself? Was this the subject of his studies- hearts of worlds? How the hell did one examine the heart of a world? The very concept was abstract, yet certainly not alien nor lost on Stella. The Light of Libra enabled her to do an all number of other worldly things, ironically enough examining the hearts of others happened to be among them. Though what the magi did next, truly bewildered the young queen.

The illumination of this replicated spell grew more intense, as the orbs and the mana of the conjuring itself was unraveled, contorted, and manipulated to the magi’s liking. Where he would look upon the ornate machinations of magic with wonder, Stella remained on edge as he babbled on scientific spiel about what he had evidently learned. A spell learned from her. The very idea that she had possibly handed him another tool to harm more innocents, brought about an unsettling, yet fleeting sense of nausea to the young royal. She suppressed it the best she could, even as he complimented her, would she seek to retain a mask of indifference. This guy was all over the place. Less than a minute ago he was trying to win a staring contest with her, then blind and sap health from her. Now here he was complimenting her spellcrafting? Someone was hitting the Ghysal Greens a little too much.

A flick of the thumbs dispirited the spell in his hands, yet even as it vanished from sight, Stella stood firm in her ground. The rapier was lowered ever slightly, yet the hardened expression never wavered, even as negotiations were attempted. He tried to sway her disposition, pointing out again that they were both foreigners to this world. Stella immediately disagreed with the statement. She may not hail from these soils, but it didn’t mean she favored thievery or the petrification of men whom were only doing their jobs. The frozen stoney faces of pain and shock stood ever present, even as the blue magi put an offer on the table that would intrigue most adventurers. Stella had no interest in material gain, yet the curiosity surrounding this treasure piqued her intrigue. What was so important that this young man would risk life, limb, and coat to find?

The spellweaver would sheathe his sword, before cautiously venturing with another offer. A means to return home, provided enough information. Eyes snapped and narrowed venomously upon cerulean orbs. She barely trusted this flippant snake as it was. What possible idea had he been given to think she’d entrust the location of Libra to the likes of this enigma? So he could take his pickings of whatever he desired? So he could return to his college and inform his brethren of a new world to study? She stared him down coldly, before spitting to the ground at her feet.

”I can find my own way home.”

Another dramatic pause of silence filled the air.

”Why is it so dire you find this treasure?”

Where Stella had hoped to accept whatever simple, if certainly short answer Blaise would have to give, she got more than she bargained for as the magi spieled forth a rather informative origin behind the nature of his antics. While she certainly did not expect this level of uncharacteristic, yet sudden profound honesty, the young royal lent an ear to all said with intrigue. The tale was one she could sympathize with, knowing full well how hard it stung to lose people she cared about. Oddly enough the source of the problem were described as elementals, or at least what she believed was his description of whatever these Heartless things were. The thoughts of the Horde that Chronos and herself fought in Traverse Town came to mind; the disturbing image of the hundreds of smaller creatures combining to form a lifelike snake. There was no indication these were the same creatures Blaise mentioned, yet there was something in her instinct that told Stella the two might be connected.

It was not enough to ignore the quickening pace in which the magi continued his tale. Either he suspected she was biding time for the local guards, or simply wished to end this inquiry to his motives, Stella could only guess which of the two prompted the test of his patience. She remained calm, rooted to the spot, as she took in the gravity of this young man’s intentions. It had been spelled out plainly enough for her. Find a keystone of some sort, a diamond in the rough as it were, possibly to gain entrance to wherever this cavern lair of the sealed Djinn would lie dormant. As he finished his informative blurting, Stella would catch a glimpse of Blaise’s momentary pause. In that moment she wondered if he, like her, was weighing the severity in the words he had given. There wasn’t much practicality behind such a plan, in fact she found it nothing short of ludicrous, a desperate gambit of an even more desperate soul. Misguided, no doubt. Was this perhaps a plan of his own conception? Or was this a path he had been guided down by one of his clan? Even now she could see this was heading nowhere good.

Stella glimpsed downward to the rapier now at her side, a small tug forming at the corner of her lips as she regarded the gem within the coiled guard. A small glimmer of humor found in Blaise’s mistaking a wyvern’s eye for a diamond at all. Vir would never let her hear the end of this story, she could see it now. Her focus shifted back to the youth as more frail threats were made. Stella’s gaze wandered betwixt the aberrations about his hands, and the pulsating shadows readied to burst forth from the adobe walls in her peripheral. She could still feel the inertia of the Light’s last pulse, a sensation in her chest similar to the burn of needing to catch her breath. The fleeting discomfort was there, yet it told her enough that a quick warp out of the alleyway wasn’t an option. Weakened powers certainly put a wrench in her tactical thinking, and they were certainly doing her less favors than in the past right now. Though even as he threatened to snare her within this proverbial vice grip, there was something about this magi Stella took to consideration.

He was no true villain, at least not in her eyes that now bore some understanding to his motives. Sure he was going about saving his clan a bad way, yet she looked on herself in this light. Had she truly been the saintlike paragon the people painted her in the crusade to return the Orichalcum? Was she so infallible as the Elysian people might choose to see? Or would she return home, and be seen as the Queen that had abandoned her kingdom upon fulfilling the prophecy? Stella was unsure what the people would make of her if a way home was ever found. Whisper your grief. Scream your sorrow. Proclaim your love. Just don’t call me your hero. It was all she could think to tell those she cared for, if ever she was to see their faces again. She considered what Blaise might tell his own loved ones if he were successful in this maddening ploy. There was no certainty the fabled Djinn of this Black Lamp adhered to its myths, nor anyway of knowing if it would take on orders, let alone a master.

Stella acknowledged the determination in Blaise, suspecting he would never let this endeavor rest until he had seen his options exhausted. If even he should succeed, there was no telling what might become of this Agrabah if he unleashed this Djinn from what sounded like a prison. The intentions of his radicalism were noble, if they were indeed true, yet the consequences of these actions would be nothing the people of this city could live with. He possessed a rather unsettling awareness of the arcane, so much that Stella pondered if he possibly knew things the Sorores might not. If the earlier display of his replication was any indication, perhaps she could coax some insight into her weakened powers out of him. It was certainly worth a thought. Therein existed the possibility of returning to Chronos and the ship with a clue to their mystery. Stella would affirm in the decision to, for the time being, assist Blaise in his search. The rapier would vanish once more, before she would gesture to the magi to use his spell if he really meant to harm an unarmed woman.