Thomas
The Logbringer Tavern was full of life and mirth as the night grew dark in Velaris. The bards sat upon a stage and played a merry tune, Smallfolk, humans and mostly of course, elves danced in the open section of the dining room where tables had been shoved aside to make plenty of room. Mugs sloshed with fine Velaris ale, roasted hog and steamed vegetables, bubbling stew and freshly baked bread. The place was full of tourists for the Festival of the Harvest King, people here to sell wares and loggers here to deliver their wood and collect their pay. The inn was large, quite large and the staff was hard at work. 

While all of this was happening, there seemed to be a stir in the air. Only the most perceptive would see it, but the very air over a certain table in the furthest most corner from the entrance was beginning to shimmer and shake. The magical energy in the room was rising and rapidly too for those that could sense it. A mage here, a Wizard there glanced up and scanned the space, instantly wary of some oncoming threat. There were a few shouts of warning but the music, the singing, the dancing and the talking were so loud that no one seemed to notice in the loud and large space. In fact a surprising amount of people did NOT notice when the space split itself into a thin white line and opened up- only to spit out a *Man* And a pile of snow before snapping shut. 

The man's body hit the table with a loud **CRASH** And the snow melted rapidly into slush. The table flipped and people roared with laughter as they assumed it was some trick. However any nearby that had an eye for the sort of thing would notice that the man was likely a corpse. 

He was by all intents and purposes however, the most beautiful corpse this world or the next would ever see. His pale skin was tinted blue and yet somehow it only made him seem more ethereal, his raven black hair and long lashes, his strong jawline and delicate nose. He was both masculine and feminine, handsome and beautiful,

With a lean body and dark clothing. 

Most notably he seemed cold and just as notably- he had a gaping hole in his chest where a large blade must have pierced that seemed to be bleeding only a very small amount. Unmoving and surely dead and yet... Any who checked would find it. A pulse so slow that he was *Nearly* Dead. That death was knocking upon the door of his soul. An adventurer realized this and shouted, "Healer! Healer! This man here! He's hurt!" 

Noctis Camille had just arrived all the way from Forstead, unconscious and on the verge of death. There was a flurry of motion around him, he had a beautiful sword and fine armor on his arms and legs, but when that motion had finished the sword and the armor on his arms and legs were already gone- men in dark hoods slipping away with glee. Trying to stop them and trying to save the man would surely result in failure in both tasks. 

Now fates threads spin to see who it is that is to be woven next into this story...
Gwendolyn
*As the air was wild and warm, the scent of savory ale, fat roasted hog and warm fresh bread. The festive season brought many smiles, laughs and singing voices to fill the busy tavern, many figures enjoying the moment and each with a story to tell. Almonde was one of those figures, the young devotee was travelling elvish lands after completing a quest. Having rested in the tavern for a few days to recover her love for a feather bed and savory food. Allowing herself a reward of rest and a feast, the woman was watching the roasted hog with a hungry gaze. Filling her plate up with a small feast on her own, the blue haired woman would begin walking the floor in search of a table.*

```"Pardon me, excuse me. Behind you. Th- thank you."```

*Almonde said as she'd begin making her way through the wild crowd. Their eyes would witness a short woman dressed in a white and blue dress, covered with holy symbols and decorations. A veil over her head, just above her blue eyes that were as warm as the fires roasting the hog. The woman was only slightly gifted in the art of magic, however she felt an odd disturbance in the air. Her eyes darting around, looking for someone or something in distress. Before suddenly a body would crash with a large amout of snow behind her. Surprisingly, the devotee and causing her to drop her plate. A concern expression could be seen on her face as she'd turn around, wondering if this was just a drunk wizard playing a trick. But, she'd notice that the man was dehydrated, cold and very close to death. Her years of tending to the wounded gave her an edge at recognizing his wounds. Upon hearing the Adventurer shout out, she'd quickly reassured the man that a healer was nearby.*

```"I'm a healer! Get me some warm blankets now! This is an emergency!"```

*She would yell out as her first focus was hypothermia, the other wounds could be healed by her magic. At least she thought, quickly wasting no time. The devotee began a prayer.*
.

"```"O Merciful Mother of Health and Vitality, Please heed my words and heal your children. With your blessing and embrace, mend our souls. Keep their light and flame within, please do not let it fade. As you may."```

*Her healing magic would glow onto her staff, as she'd gently press her warm hand onto his neck. Her eyes studied his wounds with care. Some of his wounds would stabilize, his ribs were slolwy mended and his arm was carefully pressed down to allow it to heal easier. The healing magic was potent and powerful but the wound on his chest would not heal. Taking out a clean cloth, she'd put pressure on the open wound and attempted to stop the bleeding. By now, an elf would arrive with some warm blankets. A crowd began to form around them, Almonde worried about thieves taking advantage of the situation.*

```"Can you carry him for me? To my room? We have him stable but a crowded table... You know."```

*The large elf man would give a firm nod after hearing her request. After waiting for the nun to finish wrapping the oddly handsome man lightly in a blanket. The man carried the wounded man carefully in the tavern rooms, following the devotee into her room. For his troubles, she'd give him a silver coin. The man was gently placed onto her bed, where she'd cover his neck, armpits an groin. The warmth should assist with his battle against the cold.*

*The woman noticed that the blade wound in his chest was not healing at all. She'd study how deep the wound was, before realizing that he wasn't bleeding a lot which made her believe that he was running out of blood. First the nun controlled the bleed, sealed the gaping wound to protect his lung from further infection.*

```"There we go, just breath and keep fighting. Don't give up on me now."```

*As time passed, the nun dedicated the entire time to healing this critical man's wounds. His arm was propping upwards to reduce swelling, wrapped in cloth. The man was positioned in a seated position, to not add pressure to his healing lungs. Surrounded by blankets and pillows, she'd try to speak to the man.*

```"If you can hear me, take shallow breathes. Small and shallow, not deep breaths. Okay?"```

*She sat herself on the edge of the bed as she'd carefully read his condition. Nothing else was on her mind, besides, healing the man.*
Thomas
The dark was warm and comforting, he could feel something tied to his back and tugging on him, trying to get him to sink deeper into the ocean of surrender. Far above him he could see sunlight glittering on the surface of the water, bubbles drifting up lazily from his mouth. He tried hard to remember how he'd gotten here, what he'd been doing. All he really wanted to do was close his eyes and sleep. Perhaps that wouldn't be so bad, he couldn't even recall what he had been struggling against. 

Then there was a whisper of sound. Slowly, oh so slowly it grew louder until it echoed in his ears like someone calling from the end of the cavern. 

*"If you can hear me, take shallow breaths."* It was a soothing voice, gentle. He wanted to take a deep breath and gasp for air and let the water flood his lungs, but then her voice came through more. 

*"Small and shallow, not deep breaths. Okay?"* Strangely it was the okay that did it for him, such a gentle request of him he felt rude to not reply. Noctis began a series of slow, shallow breaths. He breathed in only bubbles and could breathe- his body began to drift towards the surface. 

- - - - 

Outside the dream, his breathing got slower and he began to take shallow breaths. Not yet awake, his raven hair fell across his ethereally handsome face- long dark lashes making him seem some doll created by the gods to gawk at. He was dirty and sodden, the magic had reduced some of the most dangerous effects but that wound... 

It was simply as if the wound was *Devoid* Of magic, magic made up all things and yet this one seemed to swallow magic and drink it. Any healing magic applied simply faded away. So close to the heart, inches from it- a wound made by a cursed blade.

Outside the sound of people laughing resonated against the window pane and the sound of singing and dancing came from down below again as the party resumed. The world continued to turn, and these two remained. 

*"𝕻𝖊𝖉𝖎𝖓 𝖎 𝖕𝖍𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖎𝖓 𝖆𝖓í𝖗𝖔𝖓, 𝖆 𝖓𝖎𝖓

ú-𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖓𝖎𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖌"* He whispered suddenly, and his voice was hoarse and rattling. He spoke in elvish, a saying that meant he could say anything he wanted and he would not be understood. It seemed he was talking in his sleep, not yet conscious. 

There was a knock at the door. 

**"Hello? Sorry to bother you, but I thought you might want some of the hog before it was gone."** A low voice said from the other side of the door, it was smooth and had a sort of dance to it, a strange accent. A man's voice assuredly. 

If she opened the door she'd find a man there, only an inch short of six feet with short cut hair and fine clothes, likely a merchant of some kind. His eyes were a piercing blue color and he had a stoic expression on his face. However he did hold a tray of food, hog and stew, bread and some cheese, a few strawberries and a cup of spiced wine.
Gwendolyn
*As she'd sit on the edge of the bed, her eyes widened as his breathing was shallow. A smile grew on her face as she'd begin to wonder what happened to the man, the world of Aeterna was filled with oddities but this was a different catalog. Although, the young man was handsome by all accounts but her focus remains on his wounds. The last thing that she wanted was a handsome dead body on her bed. With some magic and potent herbs, she'd begin applying them onto his wounds. Hoping that herbs and treatments could work if magic failed. Suddenly, hearing his words and recognizing the elvish tongue that he spoke. The woman did not get enough time to translate what he said as a sudden knock was heard on to the door.*

```"Relax. You're safe now. Gosh, what happened to you."```

*The devotee said as she'd rise up to answer the door, with a confused expression. The short woman held the door, only allowing her head to peek out and her gaze met with the man's piercing blues. Suspensions were raised by this man, as the wounded man's injuries were still a mystery. The situation of the thieves taking the wounded man's armor and sword were already causing her to be very alert.*

```"Oh no thank you, I'm quite fine. You're very sweet. But I must focus on- I must focus. I appreciate it however! May Calisto bless. Have a good evening."```

*Almonde wasn't sure on the situation, hence paranoia began to grow within her. She'd prefer to go hungry than risk getting poisoned, put to sleep or even attacked. The locals had already taken advantage of the man, she hoped to protect him until she was certain that this stranger meant no harm.*

```"Take care, Sir."```

*She'd politely decline the food simply out of fear, her nervous voice was quite obvious. Closing the door and locking it, she'd stand behind the door with an ear against it. This wounded man could have been a survivor to an attack, the wound on his chest was that of a blade. There was a small chance that this man came to finish the job or simply to confirm if he was dead. Whatever the case was, she was willing to go hungry for his protection.*
Thomas
The man sighed and set the tray down on the floor, she could hear him shuffle awkwardly and then clear his throat. 

"Listen, I'm something of a scholar you see and I was just hoping to ask a few questions. It isn't every day a man just appears in the middle of a tavern all beat up like that. I just wanted to know if he was alive, what the chances of recovery are. Just want to know where he came from and what happened to him." He was quiet a moment before saying. 

"He's got an unnatural face. The barmaids, the serving girls, the work women, several of the men- those who spotted his face were almost enthralled by it." He shifted as if he had startled himself. 

"Apologies, I'm rambling now. Still if you could at least answer, the food here won't stay hot long but I can leave it at your door or something for later, no need to pay me back if that's your concern." His voice had a drawling accent that seemed to tango with his low tone. He did sound genuinely interested. 

The unconscious man's eyes meanwhile seemed to dart wildly back and forth behind his eyelids, though his breath remained shallow and slow, his lips turned from blue to a soft and lush pink color once again.
Gwendolyn
*As her ear would fall against the oak door, the devotee listened carefully to the man's words. Although the man did sound genuine, she wasn't very confident in his sudden and determined appearance. A scholar? The man clearly did not come with kindness on mind, he had an hidden intentions. Perhaps it was simple curiosity, but was it worth the risk. The devotee herself did not know much, when he mentioned the crowds that spotted his face. Her eyes took a glance at the man, he did look unnaturally handsome but that was the least of her interest. The nun opened the door once again, peeking her head out but kept her foot at the door.*

```"I will answer your questions but only if you answer mine honestly. If you try to lie to me or deceive me, I will politely ask you to leave."```

*The woman said sounding determined and firm in her tone even if her eyes held a hue of concern. The young devotee looked at the well dressed man with care, as if studying him for a moment.*

```"Who are you? Something of a scholar is rather ominous. What do you do? Why are you here and what your intentions? What brought you to the Luminia City. Are you armed? Why are you so curious about the man? What will you do with answers I give you? You seem too determined to be a simple curious scholar. I am not hungry, so you can keep that food."```

*The woman seemed very suspicious of the stranger, unsure if this was a curious man or something deeper. The unconscious man was vulnerable and was already stabbed, she needed to be cautious.*

```"And finally, what are your intentions with him? He is not in a state for visitors and I'd rather not have another bunch of thieves or potential killers take advantage of him."```

*The nun seemed rather determined and firm with her tone, taking a glance at the unconscious man. Noticing his lips seemed to heal once more.*

```"Do you know this man? It could just be wizard escaping an atttacker. Hardly, worth the attention of a scholar."```
Thomas
The man blinked slowly under her onslaught of questions, the verbal barrage being sifted through as his crystal blue eyes watched her face. When she'd finished he rubbed the back of his head and then grumbled, pulling out a cigarette. He stuck it into his mouth and waved a hand over the end- it ignited. 

"My name is Ben Koal, I'm a Professor of the Magios Academy. *I* Am a Wizard and I know high level teleportation magic when I see it. The man in there is barely in his twenties it looks like- you're telling me a twenty something year old human can pull off a feat of magic like that while deathly wounded?" He asked, letting the smoke from the self wrapped stick drift up. Cigarettes, a newer practice of taking parchment and stuffing it with tobacco and other materials. 

"I've come to discuss potential education for some nobleman's child if you absolutely must know, I can't divulge more than that. What I'll do with the answers is what any scholar does, I'll use them to answer questions- and I *Am* Determined to get answers when strange magic happens around me. An unnatural man appears, there's a burst of extremely potent magic and he had magical items on him. I was a bit distracted to chase thieves, but.." 

Too distracted or unwilling. His tone of voice suggested he had little interest in chasing thieves. 

"Lastly, I am only armed with knowledge. I can respect your reservations- but all I've asked so far is if he lives and if he will live. I have other questions but I can ask them of him and you in some place public if you'd like- just tell me the answers to the first two questions so I know if sticking around will be worth my time. Please." The please was tacked on last minute. 

As he shifted his jacket back to put away the cigarettes there would be a visible mahogany wand holstered on his hip but was quickly covered by the jacket. His crystal eyes fell on her face, narrowing as he studied her, seemed to try and peer behind her own eyes. 

"Does that suffice for

Your interrogation?"
Gwendolyn
*The devotee listened with care, her eyes half opened as they became sharper. His answers seemed to satisfy her, as it did make sence that a wizard would be interested in such an incident. The man seemed to fit the age of scholar and his reasons for being in city seemed believable. Although, his unwillingness to help made it clear that his intentions were solely focus on information as a scholar would be. Her eyes glanced at his mahogany wand.*

```"Armed with knowledge, could be as deathly as an armed mercenary. But I feel that there's truth to your words. Also, no smoking if you would so kind."```

*Almonde said as she'd motion the man to stop smoking, it wasn't meant as an attack. The unconscious man had already problems breathing and punctured lung. The devotee thought for a moment as she'd open the door fully, as she'd speak.*

```"He is alive and I have him stable. Magic doesn't seem to heal his wounds, I had to result to more traditional methods. Broken ribs, arms and hypothermia. A blade wound to the chest, the blade punctured his lung. Come and sit, maybe you'll see or find something I can't. But give me that wand first and no smoking."```

*The devotee said willing to finally let the man in, if he met with her terms. She was tempted to lie or provide the bare minimum of answers but a wizard may explain why her healing magic wasn't effective, hoping to find a way around it. He seemed like a cold and immature wizard but held no real threat to the man. Should he accept, she allowed him inside before closing the door behind him. Locking it.*

```"There was snow on him when he was teleported. His blade and armor were oddly beautiful. Perhaps a noble son or merchants? My biggest concern is his chest wound, I sealed it but it rejected my magic. I've never seen that before."```

*The devotee sat herself on the edge of the bed once more, her hands checking on his pulse and warmth. Adjusting the pillows to better position the unconscious man.*
Eileen
"Very well." He waved his hand over the stick again and the embers died out. He stuck the now cool stick into his inner jacket pocket and looked at her as she continued to speak. Ben was a handsome man with his well done hair, seemingly in his mid to late 30's and human. His eyebrow raised as she demanded his wand, but he slipped it free from its holster and flipped it nimbly in his hand to give to her. The arcane focus was lovely truly, polished with a leather grip and very smooth despite it being a little crooked. The tip was lined with gold filigree. 

"Life has certainly taught you proper precautions. I wish my students were half as street wise as you are." His 'are' came out in a low drawl as he pulled a stool over to the bed and began to roll back his long silk sleeves. His forearms were littered with strange runic scars that had seemingly been carved into his flesh. Paying them little mind, he santized his hands with some water and then peeled back the bandage on the chest wound. He clicked his tongue through his teeth as he studied the wound, tilting his head one way and then the other. 

"Do me a favor please and cast another healin spell on em, just a small one, something minor that won't take much mana." He said, still gazing at the wound. It was a dark color, purple around the edges. "Lost a lot of blood this one- amazing he's alive with all them injuries. You imagine *Just* A wizard survivin all that?" He asked, rolling those piercing blue orbs over to her to see what she thought. It was obvious he thought the idea ludicrous.
Thomas
Meanwhile Noctis' fingers twitched when her hands rested on his wrist to check his pulse, as if wantiing to take her hand and hold it. His lips pulled back for just a moment as if he were snarling. Perhaps it wasn't a sweet gesture at all. His own warmth was returning and quickly, he felt almost feverishly warm to her hands now. Yet as if compelled by her words before his breathing stayed slow and shallow, his fingers twitching anytime he is touched.
Gwendolyn
*As the devotee patiently waited for man to hand over his wand, her eyes were naturally drawn to craftsmanship. Quietly impressed, it only confirmed his answers. With care, she'd slip the wand into her pockets. Gentky scratching the side of her cheek, as she'd steal a glance at his runic scars. The devotee knew little of wizards and their magical academies.*

```"The streets of the Capital can be a good teacher."```

*Almonde said in a calmer tone, although she was tempted to say that perhaps the students don't gain street smarts is due to their wealthy or dedicated studies. Not watching nor experiencing the unpredictable but the devotee did not wish to start a debate with a wounded or potentially dying man in the room. Her eyes widened as Ben peeled back the bandage, staring at his facial expression.*

```"O Merciful Mother of Health and Vitality, Please mend this wound."```

*Using her hands to cast the spell and reciting a short prayer, a small glow of blue would begin to form around her finger tips. The magic attempting to mend the wound once again.*

```"I've seen people survive critical wounds from luck or magic. Some people can die from an arrow to the knee while few can survive being burnt alive. Different factors are at play here, I would assume."```

*Her voice was spoken with a hue of confusion and concern, her days of treating the wounded has taught her that humans in particular are able to survive extreme wounds on very rare occasions. Her eyes glanced at unconscious man's fingers twitching, her attention turned and she'd worry that he was going into shock. Her hands would gentky hold the unconscious man's hands, feeling his warmth rise. She'd use her free hand to remove some blankets, her voice would escape her lips once more.*

```"It's okay. Calm yourself if you can hear me. Don't panic and don't fear. Focus on your breathing for me, okay? Shallow and low, in and out."```

*The devotee said in a soothing tone, watching his body with care.*
Eileen
"Sure but he was practically frozen solid, punctured lungs and it looks like he was nearly pierced in the heart. I'm just saying that the pieces point to this young man being something more." He said, grimacing as the healing magic is once again nullified by the wound, dissipating entirely. "Yeap, thats a wound caused by a cursed weapon. Specifically augmented weapons designed to to destroy, or some such I might think. Looks like this one specifically nullifies healing magic. In other words its a blade designed to guarantee death." Ben said, sitting back on the stool and letting out a low whistle. 

"And you, any connection this man at all? You seem mighty determined to be saving a stranger who just had all his valuables robbed." Ben said, crossing his scarred arms over his chest and watching her comfort the sleeping man. "Far as I see it, there is a fat chance he's a lost cause." Ben admitted, scratching awkwardly at his own elbow. His foot tapped, it was obvious his mind was racing, trying to piece together the events and see how it all played out together, her included.
Thomas
As her hand settled into his own, he'd shift his head only slightly. It was obvious whatever dreams he'd been having were still ongoing, however just as his breath began to hitch it slowed down again. 

- - - - 

**"So, you really think Scipio is going to bring peace to the Nine Realms? No way, you're delusional Noctis. The entirety of the realms wants to see you all burn on stakes."** Albony said, laughing as he lightly hammered a design into the dagger he was working on. The young man had mousy brown hair and was tiny, barely five feet tall and covered in freckles. Noctis laughed and tossed the rubber ball against the wall, catching it as it bounced back to him. 

"Of course I do. I'm gonna help him too, he said he has special plans for me." Noctis said with a grin, his raven hair pulled back into a ponytail behind his head. A teenager, Noctis was boyishly handsome and femininely cute, his teeth glittering and his cheeks dimpled. A beautiful creature that showed the glimmers of the deadly, gorgeous titan he'd grow into. For now he laughed and it was the tinkling of bells as he hopped up on a bench and pulled out his sword. A curved blade with a beautifully wrapped hilt and a shimmering edge. His mothers blade. "They're gonna call me a hero, Albony." 

- - - -

Noctis watched the memory play out from within that dark depths, seeing it form on the surface of the water that was so close and yet still so far. That anchor attached to his spine still tugged, still sang its gentle lullaby for him to sleep. Whatever was down there wanted him to be at peace, to rest. It was almost tempting to get away from this vision, this memory of a friend who'd been whisked away and murdered publicly to show that Scipios followers weren't invincible. Noctis had been assigned to worker protection that night and had instead opted to join in the fight against a child of Titanos, instead of stay in his area to ensure no one broke through their back ranks. He'd recieved glory for the fight

- but he'd only truly gained shame for the death of a good friend. The guilt of it only made the anchor heavier and he sunk a few inches until that voice spoke again. Who's voice *Was* That? 

He wanted to panic, wanted to be scared. He'd spent his entire life fighting and fighting and giving up so much and what had he gotten out of it? Yet even as she spoke he felt himself drift higher, he was almost to the waters surface now. Just one more push... One more and he'd be through. Then he'd have to do it all over again- the schemes, the worrying, the rage, the... The loneliness. 

- - - - 

Noctis' breathing remained calm and his fingers lightly squeezed hers as if using her to try and pull at something.