<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bfbfbf">To say that this was not how Capricia envisioned spending the end of her life was a misnomer. She was a diviner after all, and most diviners worth their salt knew at least vaguely how they’d end up. It was more accurate to say that it was not the place that the dark skinned half elf would have chosen for herself. But everything followed a plan, even if a few of them had selectively allowed one person to meddle in it’s path. She sat by the open window, watching the city’s lights come on through the wooden lattice work. She could have escaped if she wanted to, and truthfully, she’d come to think of this less and less of a prison over the last two decades. </span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#808080">“You know, Lucian dear…” </span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bfbfbf">she murmured as the sound of a soft popping filled her ears. </span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#808080">“Just because I know you’re coming doesn’t mean you can’t appear <i>outside </i>and knock like a polite person.” </span><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bfbfbf"><br/>
She turned to face him, her good eye looking him up and down, while the white glass orb remained perfectly stationary in it’s socket. The look on her face shifted to one of confusion, than a dawning realization, before her lips parted slightly and a mixture of sorrow and joy filled her decidedly elven features, not softened by her father’s blood.</span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#808080"> “You’re here about Ardinya…” </span>