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Angelcynn: The Myrcian Conflict - Act 3 Reunion


Shin
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And that moment of respite went as swiftly as it came. Decima's shout startled the prince quite rudely, shaking and coming to his senses with regards to where they were --Was Baron Nelon always cooking something over there?

"What..." The sight he caught was surreal: Not only in its incredible timing, but it was hard to believe there was something out there that could harm Malaphar so badly. Owen frowned, wiping what tears smeared his face on his doublet's sleeve. "I see... Sister." He could feel that pressure overwhelm him again. This will be just one of many times... I need to get better at this.

While Owen was still catching himself, other nobles were reacting faster and going to the wizard's aid. Owen followed with slow steps, scanning the man's wounds. To get himself so injured... I must know. He raised a hand, asking the others to halt. "I guess there's something I want to know first, Mister Emmet..." In the end, the decision will always be mine, huh...

Then... I must step up to my role.

"Everyone, halt."

"Malaphar, tell me what's happened, and what you're truly after." The prince spoke up, his voice stern, but not aggressive. "If you think that's arrogant of me, it's only a testament to how much you've left me in the dark. We're neck-deep in hostile territory, and the man that promised me safe passage for following him shows up a bloodied mess the next morning. I don't think I can ignore that." The prince paused. "I am only my father's son. I do not know what he does."

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His World

Malaphar grimaced as Angus' attempts to call a healer were stopped by Owen's curiosity. Stepping closer to the Prince, Malaphar continued his pained gaze, wondering what had possessed the Prince to be so defiant. Did the Prince not see how much he'd done to aid them? Without his assistance, his party would have been ambushed and killed by the barbaric natives. He'd let Angus expose his wounds, a deep laceration crossed his chest, oozing blood steadily.

"Prince Owen... you choose to question me in a state like this?" he groaned, his next step causing him to drop to one knee. "My wounds are grave... I shall expire if you insist on probing me like this. I have done nothing but aid your path forwards. Would you have wanted to face the cultists alone, to have them taint the souls of your country? And Esclabor... why would I tell you that he had been captured? His rescue did not benefit me, it was information I could have held to myself."

Sebastian had readied his blade, just in case Malaphar were to make any sudden moves.

"You're not like your father, Owen." Malaphar continued. "You don't have his resolve... but you have a heart. Can you really watch a man bleed to death in front of your eyes knowing you could prevent it?"

Edited by Shin
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Claire watched the conversation nervously, eyes resting on Owen after the wizard finished his plea. She hoped that he wasn't being convinced by this. Even now, he's still trying to manipulate us... Everything about Malaphar was suspect. The way he appeared to them; his ties to Owen's father; his knowledge of the Fountain; the aura of malice which followed him wherever he went - the list went on, although they didn't have time to recount the whole thing considering Malaphar was a bleeding mess.


"He asked you a question." Claire told the wizard, trusting that her worry didn't show in her face. "Why waste time on excuses when you could answer it?" The logical explanation for this was that it was something he didn't want them to hear. But for once, the wizard was in need of their help, and she wasn't going to let him weasel out of it that easily. At the rate he was losing blood, she wouldn't even need to intervene - but they needed to decide what they were doing with him quickly.

Edited by SB.
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"He probably won't last much longer to tell us anything of use if we don't intervene" Emmet pointed out. "However if we take his tome from him now it should leave him relatively powerless to answer our questions later." I hope.

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"I would rather we hear nothing than heal him just for his smug attitude to return." Cass was very much of the same mind as Claire, though less afraid of being aggressive about it. She had everyone there around her, and she had her brother. Placing herself at his side, she put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze, swallowing hard.

"Answer my brother, Malaphar," she spoke, with a nugget of bravery. "Claire couldn't be more right. What are you doing trying to guilt him into healing you rather than answering him? You waste your breath. Spend that time explaining yourself and I will be the first person to fix your wound, but unless you do, I can't say I would mind watching you bleed out onto the sand. You've been dragging us around since you first appeared out of nowhere, and while your help has managed us saving our captain, and Esclabor, from everything Owen spoke, these cultists were far more innocent than you made appear."

She grimaced as she continued. "The 'bandits' as well... We killed innocent men to bring Esclabor to safety. So did Angus and Serge. And you act as though you've done nothing but give us perfect advice... Time to take my advice. Answer him, or find someone else to save your life." Malaphar was not an innocent man. Anyone with a brain could piece that together. Cass had no issue watching him die if he was going to continue fighting them. Your choice... I'd much rather wash my hands of you and everything you've brought upon us, so at least he's willing to give you a chance.

Still, she lowered her hand around Owen's arm, hugging it tight after speaking. As confident as she was that Malaphar's death wouldn't bother her, she was still shaken, and if he tried to attack them she didn't know if she'd be able to fight back.

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"Well, it's the sort of thing I've gotten used to, over the years. Owen is strong, but he has his moments, just like anyone else... Cass is... more moments than not, sad as it is to say." Adele began in reply to Sidney, her expression twisting into a smirk as the Raewalden noble continued to speak. Gently pressing her elbow into Sidney's side, she continued.

"If things work out nicely, huh? Already vying to see what's hiding within the Royal Pants, are we?" Adele teased, though her ribbing was soon cut short by the arrival of Malaphar, who was extremely injured by the looks of it. A few people postured, obviously wanting to simply end him there but... he was a powerful mage, more powerful than she had ever known... even in his injured state, could they really put him down before he managed to lambaste one of their own? Should they? Was it their place to mettle in such things?

Adele wasn't sure. She had no way to be sure, and could only trust Owen's judgment on the matter, slowly stepping forward towards both the sorcerer and the royal siblings. Worst case, the man lashed out, she would take the blow for them... she had to be ready to do so, in case no one else was, or would. And the man was already being gauded along enough to give him reason to lash out.

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"If he has the breath to expend to tell us excuses, he has the breath to give us answers," he said, echoing Claire's sentiments. "We're in an unfamiliar land, and you're an unfamiliar man. We're not a charity Malaphar, and we're under no oath nor obligation to assist you. Need I remind you all that this man walked here, with an open wound in his chest. If he was truly on the brink of death, he'd wise up immediately and tell us what we wanted to know and that'd be the end of it. Instead, he insists on keeping us in the dark. Just as he did in the morning, when he set off for whatever it is he wanted to do. Seal the wound if you must prince, but I agree with Emmet, we should take his tome, and the vial as well if he still has it on him," he said.

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For folklore heroes of legend, these people could really present themselves as . . . vulnerable.

Scuttle stayed uncharacteristically quiet throughout the drama, but she was visibly shaken.

She wasn't sure how to feel about watching her idols bicker and cry amongst each other. It was like seeing the building blocks of her moral world, the very people in which she modelled virtues like strength and kindness after, unravel before her. Watching the Axe-flinging Princess crumble like that . . .

It was unnerving. If the epitome of strength had her weak moments, what hope had she?

Javier had called them heroes. People she could rely on. People to look up to. But ever since the battle, she had seen their flaws, up close. She had seen them become victims of their own anxiety and fears. Watched them do recklessly stupid things for selfish reasons. Secrets. Egos. She thought losing her mentor would have been fine as long as they were around, but they were nothing like him at all. Only now, with that simple phrase from the Princess's lips, that delusional fog had been lifted.

A bitter sensation coiled deep in Scuttle's stomach. Impassive eyes reached out to survey the chaos swirling around her, taking everything in and giving back nothing, concealing the maelstrom of emotions roiling inside her own as she struggled to swallow the truth.

They weren't heroes.

In many ways, it made what she was about to do slightly less guilty on her conscience.

Malaphar's return proved the perfect distraction. No one would notice a missing person. Scuttle's furtive shadow slipped deep into the fort, in the opposite direction of where the heroes went.

There was some reconnaissance she needed to do.

Edited by Frostivus
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Is that really what he had to say? Owen sighed, frowning. This man was so incredibly complicated to read. Just what is your purpose in trying to make me indebted to you? That seemed to be how things were going to roll. The man would ask favors, and Owen would need to fulfill them out of a debt. And for every good thing he grants me, there is an exchange. I can't let this become a cycle.

It was heartwarming to see such support out of the others --even his sister, standing beside him despite the wizard's powerful, ominous presence. He was afraid, but not alone, for certain. "I'll give you that you gave me Escablor's and the Captain's location, in turn, their safety as well. For that, I lent you aid dealing with the cultists, in search of what you were after." This was it, he couldn't let himself be indebted to Malaphar any more, dealing with that man was dangerous.

"You might be right yet, however. I am unlike my father." Owen snapped his finger, "Sebastian, what do you say of this man's condition? Can you stop the bleeding, but only that? Do take care, a wounded man has no need for sharp weapons." That was a subtle hint to check his body for weapons, but Owen wasn't sure it'd be picked up by the butler. The prince did not take his eyes away from Malaphar for a moment, expecting the wizard to lash out with ire. Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to disarm him after all. "If we must follow you out of Magonsaete, I'd rather not do it as a blind dog. Otherwise, I think it might be beneficial for us to follow separate paths."

Edited by Xinnidy
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Egoism

Sebastian glanced over at Malaphar, quickly assessing the man's wounds. "Without treatment, he would likely perish from blood loss. I would be able to stop his bleeding with minimal effect on his wounds... but I would be rather cautious of what state that would put him in. His bleeding may be the only thing preventing him from using his... talents." Sebastian informed, his blade still drawn. Nelon placed himself between the wizard and the prince, his intuition was enough to not trust this man. If there was going to be an attempt on Owen's life, he'd at least have some say in the matter.

Scowling at Owen with a building fury, Malaphar struggled to his feet, stepping closer towards him. The distance was closing, no more than a dozen or so feet rested between the two men. "Do you intend to keep me as a caged animal, Owen?" Malaphar barked, a cold wind sending ripples around him. "To leave me injured, to interrogate at your own amusement. Does that crown that sits upon your head allow you to decide the fate of others? An inherited power that lets you craft the future of those around you."

Malaphar's mouth curled into a menacing smile, the man starting to laugh despite his wounds. "Maybe you're more similar to your father than you imagined. But you are not Oswald, you lack his power. You have no Tobias to guide your judgement... and no Javier to vanquish your foes." he lectured, his tone growing madder by the second. "You lack the power to decide my fate... this is not your world... it is my world."

The tension in the air had grown thicker, the sense of dread emitting from Malaphar more potent than ever before. Emily and Morganna seemed especially aware of his aura, and it was likely that the other spell users in the group felt very much the same. It wasn't as if he were the source of such a sensation - it was his entire being that expelled it.

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Adeltrudis wasn't sure what to think of Malaphar's display. It was wordy and contemptful, despite his weakened state. It showed a man who was proud, unwilling to bend, powerful and knowing of his own power. It was so Malaphar, really. But more than anything, it was a threat. The man's words and actions could be considered nothing but a threat, Adele pressing forward, making sure that the wizard had no line to either Owen or Cassandra that didn't go through her first.

"A man who barks mad is perhaps an animal that should be caged, Malaphar. You said you knew my father... even now you speak of him. But I won't be cowed by it, not any longer. You dare threaten my liege, my oldest friend, Malaphar? You seem to respect Tobias, I'll show you the resolve of his blood." Adele announced slowly, intently, her visage cold and severe, unlike the madness of the man she stood across from, Holding nacht at the ready, she waited, watching his every move, every twitch of his frame.

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Cass was elated to her Owen speak against the mage, squeezing his arm tighter, nodding her head. Malaphar continued to try and bark his way to victory over Owen, but it wasn't going to work-- "Wha...!" Suddenly Cass was assaulted by a very heavy... She didn't know what to call it. Her grip on Owen got tighter. The tension in the air got thicker, Malaphar's anger working towards... Something! She wasn't a mage, she didn't know what to call this, but it was magical and it was heavy, and she did not like it... Even so!

"We... We're not going to stand down t-to your barking, you snake!" As timid as she had become, between recovering and the sudden tense nature of the situation, she had Owen, and he was standing tall! "If you were so smart you've have a-answered Owen already... And if you... If you think you can order us around like this! Like we're your lackeys, y-you've got another thing coming! Your world! Hah! Your world hinges on Owen's word! This... This is your last chance!"

She didn't sound strong, but her glare, unabated by the situation, held firm at the wizard, gritting her teeth. Adele joined in-- Adele, managing to stay stronger, always impressive, her support to Owen knowing no bounds. Cass found it in her to slowly let Owen go, standing next to him, instead of beside him. We aren't your dogs!

Edited by Narmaya
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The princess and the others stood firm, parading down words of strength and resolve, but not Alain. He backed up, and looked around, unsure if anyone else was able to grasp the gravity of the situation at hand. The air had grown thicker, more vile, more repugnant. He could barely hear anything save for the drum in his chest, mercilessly beating away. He looked around, dumbfounded that no one had struck the man down already. Information was vital yes, but at this point? Waiting for the order could prove fatal.

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What is this? Whatever brave faced facade Claire had managed to cobble together shattered in an instant. The wind emanating from the wizard sent a shiver down her spine, and the crazed laughter despite everything made her want to back far, far away. But worst of all, his aura was so thick, she felt as if she was choking on it - trembling slightly, but otherwise paralysed.

The events in front of her were a blur; she hardly heard Malaphar's taunts or boasting, or Sebastian's words of warning. Every moment felt like an eternity, but still she was frozen - watching the scene in front of her unfold millisecond at a time, powerless to change it.

It was only when some fraction of her conscience noticed the blood still dripping from Malaphar's chest that she remembered something - he was still mortal.

"This is my world." she heard him say, as sounds began to come back into focus. She was shaking wildly now, but she gritted her teeth and stepped forwards, a single retort forming on her lips.

"We shall see about that."

Within an instant, she sent a gale of wind hurtling towards the wizard - one hand clutching her tome with the other stretched far in front of her. She'd had enough of the wandering mage who'd used them for his own ends, kept his motives a silent and threatened them the moment they spoke up against him. She hit back with all the force she could muster, wishing for nothing more to watch the wizard collapse in a crumpled heap onto the sand.

She just hoped that it was enough.

Edited by SB.
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So that's how it will be. "I only hold the fate of Wyke. Your actions were what led you here." He was through talking, there was no point giving this madman more time to breathe. Owen drew his sword, though the ominous, thickening, unbearable aura was noticeable even for him.

He could feel a gust of wind through the air. His eyes opened wide.

Claire! The situation was dangerous, she was the one with the vial, and if she got in a direct fight with Malaphar... Owen broke formation, dashing to put himself between her and the wizard, sword raised in a defensive stance. "Don't believe his wounds! This man is dangerous!" I... I can't bring myself to attack, what's going on?

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Angus stood in place, a dire glare into Malaphar's back as he staggered forward. The Baron's knife crashes softly into the sand, replaced in hand by his axe. The hate, the contempt pouring from the wizard felt as though it could drown Angus. Still,his resolve was firm. The wizard could not be allowed to move against Owen.

Angus studies his allies for the briefest moment. Given the day's earlier "discussion", he knew that more than one of his companions was considering a move.

But Claire? The barest movement betrayed her intention. The outstretched hand confirmed it. The only thing Angus could do was reach violently for the wizard's robe, hoping to bury his axe into the wounded wizard and render him vulnerable to Claire's attack in one moment.

If Angus had time for thought, he would have pondered on how a wizard who knew so much could understand so little: of Owen, of ruling, of looking after your own hide.

Edited by Terrador
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For a time, Claire was blind to the rest of the party - even Angus' attempts to help. Only Malaphar's menacing form was visible, with just a few odd shapes dotted around them. It took the prince hurrying directly between her and the wizard - and directly in harm's way, for her to remember exactly what was going on.

"Owen..." she gulped, fear and anxiety taking over once again. "Please. Move out of the way." She stepped back in front of him, still scared. Terrified, even. But this, somehow, was something she knew she had to do.

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[spoiler=Scuttle knows magic too] "Don't go," came but the most fretful of whispers.

Large eyes glowed with the insinuation of tears as Javier laid her down in secondhand featherless duvets, her nose a bright red. He held a cup of warm tisane steady for the child to sip, then wiped her tear-streaked face before lowering her head gently back onto the pillow.

"One tummy ache is a lifetime lesson well learned, Scuttle. Perhaps the next time you would do well than to not eat so much candy before bedtime." He dapped a warm cloth onto her forehead comfortingly.

"Don't go," the request came again. Tiny hands tugged at his coattails.

"My, Scuttle, those bad dreams really did bother you, didn't it? But luckily I know how to handle them. With . . . magic."

Scuttle listened intently with the casualness of someone being told the time of day.

"It is an ancient litany passed down from arch-sorcerers to take care of monsters under the bed. Are you listening?” Javier perched himself onto the bed and inhaled dramatically, “You puff up your chest, take a deep breath, and say to the monsters: 'Go away, bad dream. Boo'.”

It elicited a spell of soft giggles from the lump underneath the mattress.

“Go ahead, you try.”

“Go away, bad dream. Boo.”

“Congratulations, Scuttle. You know magic.” Javier rose from the bed and pressed her forehead affectionately. "Good night, Scuttle. Sleep well."

The spell - naturally - didn’t work: Scuttle didn’t get a wink of sleep that night. She laid down, staring at the ceiling, heart pounding in her chest, awash with excitement of enchanting teddy bears and conjuring frilly dresses for the next morning.

_____

In my bad dream, Javier, you left and never came back.

_____

The torches that lined the fort walls died, plunging Scuttle's world into darkness. Sinister shifting patterns capered at the corner of her vision, but shadows didn't frighten her anymore, especially not now, when she knew that in her desperation it was she who was turning to them for guidance this time, beckoning them closer.

She groped for the walls, felt them trembling as well. Loose stone pelted her from above.

She couldn't turn back from this now.

She replayed Cassandra's and Claire's words over and over again in her head. She felt herself slipping, descending into that lightless abyss that her mind never truly acknowledged.

Think about what you're doing. You're not thinking straight. Calm down and start with the basics. What's your name?

I am Scuttle.

I am Susan Thames.

It didn't use to be this hard.

I was raised by a hero.

I was born to a whore.

Every step felt like she was falling deeper into quicksand. The darkness closed around her, but it was all white light and painful noise. It haunted her with terrible visions of swallowing her whole, that one day the emptiness inside would curl up inside her and it would never, ever leave.

She had tried to fill it with Angus. She had tried to fill it with Adele. She had tried to fill it with Cassandra.

He loved me greatly.

He left and never came back.

She stopped dead in her tracks.

This had to be the place.

The pain boiled in her veins and burned in her gut until the heat cauterised her very soul, until she felt it blazing tightly against her chest, yearning for release. She let it out.

Alone, in the fort. Scuttle screamed and screamed to herself; to the world.

There was no turning back.

Edited by Frostivus
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Though Emmet could wield no tomes, his sense for magic was more than enough to feel overwhelmed by Malaphar's sinister aura. Every inch of his body was demanding he either flee or fight. But drawing Pinaka and notching an arrow would take far too long. He gripped his healing stave and thought about how it could be used as a weapon. He was prepared to dash Malaphar's brains against the rocky ground if need be, that was how the aura made him feel. But logic told him Malaphar was still useful alive. Maybe I can knock him out. Just as Emmet was about to step forward, Claire attacked with a powerful wind spell. Emmet cursed himself for not acting sooner as all panic broke loose. He grabbed Claire by the arm and spoke silently into her ear. "You could break the vial with a spell like that" he hissed. "For some inconceivable reason he hasn't used it yet, I don't want to see the result of you accidentally healing him."

Edited by Jotari
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Sidney froze up when Malaphar arrived. She wanted nothing to do with the situation- his presence was incredibly unnerving to her, and while she didn't like his superior attitude, confronting him didn't come off as a particularly intelligent idea.

It was far too late for that to be a concern.

To her surprise, Claire made the first attack, before a certain horse rider tried to grab at the sorcerer, of all plans. How can somebody be so stupid? The thief grit her teeth, not sure whether to make a move or if that would put Claire in jeopardy, until Owen went forward. "Prince Owen!" She darted up to his side, readying her Zodiac Claw and holding on to his hand not occupied by a sword. "You'll not fall to this madman... I won't allow it."

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At the prince's word, Doug had halted before he could reach out to aid Malaphar. There he stood in the middle of what turned into a tense standoff, very much confused as to what's going on. Accusations began flying, and then the wizard sounded oddly ominous. Considering Doug believed Malaphar to be but an advisor to the prince, this didn't seem right. Suddenly, attacks began flying; Doug had to dive out of the way to avoid Claire's wind spell. Instinctively, Doug grabbed the only weapon available to him: the spoon from his cereal bowl.

"What in the name of Dougistan is going on?!" Doug said frantically, brandishing the utensil as he took a fighting stance.

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It had all happened so fast. Malaphar had shown up with wounds all over his body before collapsing on the ground before the group. Rather than healing him, however, they had decided to interrogate him on the spot. And THAT seemed to not sit well with Malaphar. Serge was no magic user, but even he felt the pressure of the situation. Not to mention, he could see both Morganna and Emily visibly shake at this. He remembered something Morganna said about other mages being able to sense power or something, he wasn't quite sure of the details at this point. But that didn't matter now. Even if he charged at full speed, Serge most likely would not make it over to him in time to finish the job, though it seemed others were working on that. Serge placed the spoon inside his empty bowl, then his empty bowl down to the ground. Breakfast was over now, and Serge had a full stomach. He drew his sword and prepared for this worst, then looked over to the nearest people. "Sir Nelon! Sir Thomas! You might wanna get ready. Things don't look too good..."

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The World

Claire's blade of wind tore into Malaphar's chest, causing blood to spurt out like a fountain. Malaphar let out a pained cry, falling back down to his knees. Gasping for air, he reached forward towards Owen, his face pale and his expression slipping. There was a fraction of a second where nobody dared moved, their entire crisis was about to conclude with a last spell from Claire.

Or that would have been the ideal situation, perhaps too ideal.

"... Prince Owen... I shall show you my world..." he gasped, falling down onto both his palms.

It happened in an instant. Malaphar was gone. As was Owen, and Claire, Angus, Emmet and Nelon. It was as if they'd simply vanished without a trace. Sebastian looked around incredulously, unable to comprehend Malaphar's trickery. There was no explanation for it, no spells had been activated, no staves had been used. The rest of the group, the Reliants, Decima and Esclabor, stood in shock - completely stunned by the event.

"Lady Adeltrudis... I'm not aware of any spell that is capable of causing so many people to vanish so quickly." Sebastian informed, regretting how powerless he was in the current situation. "I fear that the worst may have occurred, we have no means of verifying Prince Owen's status."

Morganna was especially stumped, taken a back by Malaphar's mysterious power. She shared glances with Emily, who was perhaps even more clueless than she was usually. Morganna hurried to her leader, who had been spectating the whole event.

"I've certainly never heard of any spell or illusion that can do anything remotely like this." Morganna pondered, huddling within her robe. "Not even the arch mages were able to act so rapidly... or without anything to show. I don't like this at all, I never came across this Malaphar at the college, or even heard of him. Surely someone so powerful would be at least known?"

Owen, Claire, Angus and Emmet are no longer present in the scene!

-

Malaphar's World

No more than a second had passed since Malaphar's ominous words, but the world around Owen began to distort, existence itself twisting into a dark void, everyone but Malaphar, Angus, Emmet, Claire and Nelon fading from his vision. A sudden coldness passed through his body, a chill far harsher than any winter. Direction and orientation began to lose meaning as his centre of gravity drifted randomly, It wasn't clear where he was or was going, but it certainly wasn't anywhere he could have anticipated.

It could have been minutes, or even hours before Owen's sense of perspective returned. Landing on the ground alongside his allies, it became apparent that he was no longer at the beach-side fort... or even Magonsaete for that matter. He could feel the familiar sensation of grass beneath him - but that was where the familiarity ended.

The sky above was an ominous blood red, with dark clouds swirling throughout it. The grass Owen had found himself on was dark and twisted, almost completely black. All the plant-life around them, the trees, the bushes, the flowers, were all cruel and twisted, like something out of a nightmare. The stream behind them wasn't much better, the water itself appeared more like blood than anything else. Visibility was rather poor, it wasn't terribly bright and an eerie mist obscured the horizon. This wasn't Magonsaete or Wyke... or even Angelcynn. It was somewhere else entirely.

"Prince Owen, have you been harmed?" Nelon asked, slowly rising to his feet. His eyes widened as he took sight of the hellish landscape, the subdued terror visible in his gaze. "Is this some nightmare that we have entered... I fear we are not safe in this land... wherever it may be."

Owen, Claire, Angus and Emmet may post!

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They were there. Then they were not. Cass had smiled as Malaphar was struck, thinking this ordeal over, until he spoke. His world? She couldn't even question it. She didn't have time. Owen was gone. Angus, Claire, Emmet. She froze herself, unsure of how to react, slowly coming back as voices spoke up around her. Owen had been at her side just a moment ago, where...

She started to look around. They really were gone. "Owen? A-Angus? Claire...?" Panic set in. This was not the time for any of this. "This, th-this is a stupid joke... I'm just... They'll be back right...?" Moments passed. Nothing. No one. No sign of any of them or the evil monster who has taken him away from her. "No... No, this can't..." Adele was still there. Cass stared at her for a moment, the stream starting, taking steps towards her. "A, dele... Where is he...?" She could only whisper.

It felt like forever, really. Her hands finally made their way onto Adele's shirt and grabbed it weakly, staring at her with a terrifyingly absent stare. "Where is Owen?" She started to tug harder. "Wh-Where is he?" There was urgency in her voice. "Where is he!? Where is Owen, Angus, where are they!?" She finally gripped the poor woman's shirt tight, face grimacing in a twist of sadness--

"WHERE IS MY BROTHER!?"

Edited by Narmaya
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It had all ended just as soon as it had begun. Claire had fired off a spell at Malaphar, and Owen had ran in front of her. She had tried to grab him, keep him safe behind her... he was the most important after all, but... the fabric of his sleeve slid past, unable to get a grip on him before he had placed himself in front of the mage. The spell hit dead on, blood flew from Malaphar, and he spoke. She didn't catch what he had been saying, rushing to get herself back in-between the wizard and the Royal siblings... and then they were gone. Adeltrudis came to a stop where Owen had been mere moments before, neither the Prince nor Claire still in their spot.

Cassandra had walked over to her... she was safe. It was the only solace she had left, the Princess pressing against her, sobbing and grabbing at the cloth she wore, asking of her brother... asking of Owen, whom she had just made up with, had just gotten a moment with. Adele didn't have an answer for her. Silent and stoic, all she could do was grit her teeth, clench her fists until they bled. What could she say?

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