Malintzin

Thoughtful silence reigned between them after Kaige swore his oath. Raveena smiled warmly and reached out to Mephisto, gingerly sweeping fingers along the back of his ears in a gentle message. The Articat purred accordingly; a lilting, comforting sound. It was a sound that grounded her in the here and the now. She didn’t want to believe the words that came out of her mouth—nor his. Kaige was no fool; he knew there was grave danger on the horizon for all Genesaris. She did not think, she wanted to say. It was no guess. She knew. Raveena pursed her lips, her ginger touch gently scratching under Mephisto’s chin now. Primordial creature that he is, he lifted his chin to ensure she covered every inch that needed scratching, his purring unrelenting. She felt a laughing welling up, an amusing thought as she turned over Kaige’s words in her head, “Saving. Hm! A noble, yet foreign concept for me. Even my husband learned the hard way,” Raveena couldn’t help but smile, and smile broadly, “In every instance that I needed saving, I learned how to save myself.” Deep in the belly of Alethea’s dungeons, she incited the prison riot that set detained citizens free, launching a full scale civil war against the Tyrant Raz Nogore—the Butcher King. A reviled creature—neither man nor beast yet twisted into both. Slain, his slaves liberated. Under the sickly pale light of an OXY Laboratory—sterile, cold and cruel. She witnessed the systematic harvesting of Vanakara from Khaiperian slaves, a vain attempt to weaponize it. In her darkest hour she clawed her way to freedom and liberated her people along the way. The last cells fled to the far reaches of Cierno. "What must be done." Raveena recited solemnly. It was something she had taken with her from her time serving with Force Majeure. There were nights when James' words startled her out of sleep. He wanted a comfortable, easier life for her and gods and their meddling veered her far from that path. Arun'daeraa was keen to forge her into something more. "I'll do what must be done." She confirmed to Kaige with some finality. Even as Souji, in the clever way that only fey could, forced her into an unpleasant situation, she did not waver in the wake of his slaughtering of her guard. The Unseelie were not to be trifled with, as she thought back to the Hanami Festival of Port Caelum. --- They came from the shadows that splayed as the day wore on. From the shrubs and trees, under quaint wooden bridges. The air’s temperature dropped a few degrees as a pair of large white wolves stalked into the open, their wary, intelligent eyes searching—their heads dipped low. An unfortunate gust of wind knocked a child over, a yōkai giggling at the sight until it too had been knocked over rambunctiously. A troop of impish Spriggans danced nimbly out of hiding, trailing at the wolves’ heels. It was an interesting clash of culture—a strange mix of magic and demonology; Yōkai and the Yosei were threads of the same tapestry yet woven differently. They came for their Queen, who felt the nausea splash along her like a cresting wave. It was something she had nearly forgotten—and yet, couldn’t forget the moment it hit her. Your auxiliary security detail is here, young queen. Jesta’ dryly announced. Her tail flicked irritably. She was an ancient creature, but a magical one. The air was permeated with an uncomfortable essence. The white wolves bowed in a way that only animals could, with a strange sentience that was unbecoming of animals. Jesta’ was a rare exception, for only the truly advanced and gifted could see her. It made her comfortable with insulting those around them. Closer now, Raveena could see the fur of the wolves was hardly fur at all—but thin needles of ice and snow. They nearly came to her chest at full height—and though she was petite—they were not. One wolf took a long, hard look at Jesta’, who sprawled comfortably at the end of the table and bench. He says he does not understand his King’s decision to swear fealty to the Sun, but they have come to take you to Khanai if trouble arises. “Escort me? Why do you hear them, but I don't?” Raveena looked down at the Spriggans. They were far more dangerous than the wolves, this she knew. Though they peered shyly from between the wolves legs like impish children, she had seen their devastating power in action and was secretly thankful for their presence. Because you’re not listening. The Daemon replied crisply with disdain. Though one wolf’s gaze focused on the disruptive behavior, the one that stared at Jesta' now turned his eyes on Raveena with unnerving patience. They exchanged a moment of silence and—despite the brewing trouble not far from them—she nodded and swallowed her nausea before speaking with some measure of conviction, “Flesh still burns in the winter, because the Sun wills it.” There was a long pause of silence before Jesta’s voice floated into her mind again. He says he may have underestimated his King’s decision after all. --- “Succumbing to the Yosei’s power is just as dangerous as what is coming, if not more. Your hope for something else is…” Raveena was at a loss for the right word, and instead let it trail off. She slipped from her comfortable perch on the desk and strode purposefully to the chest seating that hugged a corner. With careful reverence to the aged thing, she opened the chest and rummaged through her belongings. Welfrick’s bow, carefully wrapped in deer skin. A violin she hadn’t touched in quite some time. Her retired uniform from Force Majeure. Tzak Bishop’s old spring-loaded mace—a tournament souvenir from one of her oldest, dearest friends. Letters from from father, leading up to her adoption into the Carmine Dominion, and—. She turned to face him, a plainly sheathed sword in hand. It was short for him—for it was designed for her petite stature, “Normally I enjoy displaying my swords in the Hall of Sigils, but this particular one is special and stays with me.” Clutching the sword possessively, she was reluctant to relinquish it to him. “She hails from Khanai and can guide you there should it come to that. Her name is Empyrean. Even if I am still me, the Yosei would not relinquish me quietly. Only wield her in your darkest hour.” What that meant for Kaige, she would let him figure out as she presented the sword to him and rest it in his lap. Because Raveena practiced at many things, she was good at many things, but Empathy was something more—more than practice and more like second nature. To sense the magic in the air, of other Vanakaran and their springwell of magic, always magic. She was not only good at it, but she longed for it, wanted it, loved it in a way that nearly overwhelmed her with gratitude to even have it. “Now that you understand more about my predicament, and now that I have your word should the worst come to pass, tell me your thoughts, Savior.” Her fingers curled in the air, as if she reached and grasped for some unseen thing, “I can feel your disagreeableness, even from here. What has you so bothered?” Kaige’s head was wise, but his heart was all fire. @The Hummingbird

Style: T1 Ruleset: UFS Characters: Sabine Fenvaris vs Thyphainne Gladesinger Terrain: Randomly Generated via terrgen; Val Equiv: Velhatien Desert Prize: The 4th Sfera of Khaiperion, Earthshaker @Zigzag The Velhatien Desert Bones of massive, once-majestic creatures lie hot and steaming in the sands. Clouds that have never borne any rain shift overhead, preparing for a night colder than any the South has ever known. The wastelands of Genesaris is filled with vast ruins lost to time, roaming with creatures strange and hostile. Hunters and warriors alike search the desert for hidden treasures, encountering things never before seen, with much more to discover and tell of in tales... should they return alive to the kinder plains and forests of Genesaris. The magical, golden desert of Velhatien is by far the roughest and most brutal of lands in all of Genesaris. The few nomads and clans that make their living in the rolling, shifting dunes are known for their strength, will, and ability to adapt to the cruelest of environments. Suspicious of outsiders, these stoic inhabitants respect only the hardiest of visitors, standing no nonsense from the occasional foolhardy tourists. While at first glance Velhatien seems mostly devoid of life, many creatures roam the desert. Fire elements of all shapes, sizes, species, and families are known to hide beneath the sands, emerging daily to hunt and forage for the scant food available to them. Other, less volatile creatures hide in the small oasis scattered far into the desert, taking advantage of these small paradises as sources of water and much-needed shade. These tiny areas of grass and trees and pools of fresh water are often seen populated with the nomads and clanspeople of the desert, who are no less appreciative of any mercy the desert has to spare. Once, the desert was a place of worship - likely by those who prayed to the Fire Elements - but now all the temples and churches lie buried in the roiling sands, holding what many consider to be great treasures and artifacts there for the taking by those brave enough to seek them. Undoubtedly guarded by ancient forces wise and strong, few have actually ventured into the heart of the desert where the most cruelest of forces life - the Fire Plains. The Velhatien Desert temperature reaches -38°C at its coldest and +42°C

There was a war in Sigil City against an Artificial God (in the absence of the Lady of Pain) that was seeking @Red the Ambivalent who fled to Val to kick it with @Roen. Red was an Enforcer so she was considered a deserter. Rae was not happy about this. Being a Knight and having survived some shite, James Eredas said, 'Take a vacation.' The following is an accurate representation of what happened next: Raven never did punch her but Corvus did burn down Red's city, kidnapped and tortured her, so...there's that!

“You show more hesitation for a cat than the Queen. You are bold.” It was a simple, reflexive gesture to reach for her hand and kiss it. Was it because they were alone? Unseen? She froze, stiff and unblinking—not even her heart would beat in that span of a second. The words were there on her lips, but they came too slowly, too late and clumsily. Raveena retracted her hand quickly. He held her hand far too reverently to make her comfortable. It was a strange feeling. It was neither welcome nor unwelcome. It was a sort of anxiousness that left her momentarily flustered, “Please do not do that again. I’m still a married woman, after all.” She forced the words out matter of fact—not because she had a hard time saying them, but more than it felt strange to have to say them at all. There was a time when she thought Rowan dead to her. Lost in a coma for years, never to wake up. She had scoured every inch of Valucre to find a solution and here was none. She had a death wish, then. It’s not that she is empty without Rowan, no; she is far too confident and composed to be empty or wanting. Only that he had eyes on her back when she needed him to, just as she had her eyes on his. They were partners in tandem, even apart. His lack of presence left her feeling vulnerable and overburdened at times. Still, she persevered and moved on because that’s what he would want her to do. Welfrick, on the other hand, was a strange outlier. Strange because it was not Welfrick that was the outlier, only the creatures that had been using him. Primus the Jagdhunde and his thirteen other siblings were the last living back of Shadowbeasts in all Valucre’s existence. They had unwittingly imprinted upon her after she saved Welfrick’s life, and through Welfrick time and time again their paths crossed. The longer they lingered, the less himself Welfrick was. There was a time where he was barely there at all. Raveena was no longer certain if it was Welfrick or Primus that garnered her affection. They were beasts seeking to become men for her. They, too, would die for her. It made Rowan’s awakening difficult. They were estranged for a time, but they reached a mutual understanding of their relationship and the hardships that were ahead of them. It had not diminished their love for one another, and though he departed from his family for their safety, she still felt a lingering sense of devotion. She’d lie to say that Kaige was not attractive. She envied his dangerous life because it was something she had always been drawn to (much to Rowan’s chagrin). She had learned her worth through Rowan and learned to stop throwing herself into danger, and turned her fervor to the Khaiperian people. Affection. Love. Intimacy. These were things she could no longer afford in the face of her duties to her people. She had a moment of happiness in being reunited with her husband, but the empire could not run itself while she daydreamt of a perfect world. She cleared her throat and leaned back in her chair, the air thick with sudden tension. She had to choose her next words carefully. “Some time ago I found myself in a very unfavorable position with an untrustworthy, yet unwitting ally.” She paused, her tongue clicking as if debating if even that were the right way to phrase it, “It is a complicated matter. A bargain was struck in exchange for protection to Khaiperion. The Yosei are the folk that once made the Forgotten Forest of Lagrimosa, forgetful. You may have read tales of the Unseelie in Lagrimosa’s history. They were a natural defense to Khaiperion’s most vulnerable position when the city was first built in Valucre some years ago. Their King, Souji, sought to become a regent of this realm to take a more active role. His active role was to court my regent in Crystallo Stella in hopes of procuring an heir and seizing both territories.” Raveena’s hands folded and she stared down at them thoughtfully, “What none of us were prepared for is when both he and Queen Aurora vanished. The Web has actively been seeking them out, but there’s nothing to suggest they are even alive. If they are, they are not in this world and I am running out of time trying to bring them home. Within their realm, not so differently from here, the duty of ruler would pass to an heir. With no heir, no Queen and no King…I am next to rule, as Khanai is a vassal nation to my Empire. I am protected only by the pact Souji put in place, that so long as Khaiperion stands I am Empress.” She swallowed hard, her visible discomfort growing. She knew what Souji was, because she easily and gleefully murdered her entire guard and witnesses on their first meeting. “To any other ruler this may sound ideal. How convenient that two nations are now forced to server under my rule in the absence of their own. These are not, however…these are not the benevolent spirits of my people.” Raveena spoke distractedly, nervously, reflecting on what she knew. She had been to Khanai many times; She knew the unforgiving cruelty of the realm, of the twisted nightmares that lingered in the shadows there. The ethereal magic that was beautiful and terrifying to behold. Khanai existed. If Khaiperion was the land of the sun, Khanai was a world of unforgiving darkness. “They are cold, they are empty, and they are…changed. The one thing keeping me serving as Khanai’s Queen in full is that I am still bound by my right to rule in Khaiperion, they cannot challenge that through the customary laws Souji swore them to. Khanai is exempt from the Imperial Call that typically governs the Khaiperian people because their realm does not exist in our own, but in a pocket dimension exclusive to the Yosei.” She returned her gaze to Kaige, her brows knit with deep concern. “Khaiperion is protected...but I was both foolish. Khanai remains a protector of Khaiperion from invaders, however...if Khaiperion were destroyed by, say, a natural disaster, that customary protection would be nullified. The land knows that something is brewing. Kaige. Something destructive and awesome. It needs us, as we need it if we are all to survive. If the leyline is correct about the fate of Genesaris, and Khaiperion is lost to whatever destruction is coming…Khanai will no longer be obligated to protect Khaiperion. Khanai will still stand and I, too, will be changed.” She rose from her office chair but lifted a hand for him to remain seated as she crossed the threshold between them. Raveena didn’t kneel by the slayer—for even sitting, Kaige was still much taller than she was. But she extended a hand to him, palm out. Thin threads of her golden Vanakara danced from the tips of her fingers, weaving together tightly in a fantastic dazzle of light. The weave drifted through the air like fine, shimmering silk and draped along his slouched form. He would feel the unyielding warmth of a healer who was blessed by the sun. The magic would weave with his flesh and begin its own whimsical mending. Though his most shallow wounds would recover perhaps as soon as that night, anything worse would take a day or more to heal. “Humanity is something precious to me. It is my greatest treasure.” Raveena smiled bittersweetly before she came to sit on the edge of her desk, regarding Kaige with a strange look of resignation. “If Khanai prevails, Kaige, I must know I can entrust you to hunt me down, find me and—if necessary, to kill me.” A heavier silence lingered between them. If Kaige excelled at hunting monsters, she may very well become one. "I need your word." @The Hummingbird

“A pretty man who speaks pretty words. Rise,” Raveena replied, musing as Kaige greeted her formally. Her own shoulders were square and taut, her chin lifted to take in the sight of him. Kaige was a handsome yet simple man. The common man was far more trustworthy than the gentry. She rose to stand swiftly, and even at their distance she could tell he towered over her. She was no tall, leggy creature—but petite and demure all the same. “Come.” She commanded simply and led him to her study. It was quiet, save for the conversation that novels held within them, they could afford more privacy there. She had collected many books from across Valucre to add to her library, yet not a single book even within the Bravot Library contained Khaiperion’s history. From the day she had returned from the heart of the forest, Raveena felt overwhelmed, bursting at the seams—a sort of madness seized her, and she began to write. She wrote for hours, for days and weeks. Sometimes she refused food and drink—writing, always writing. Page after page, chapter after chapter. Frustrated welled because her hands would bleed. They were calloused and swollen and abused. Sometimes Johari would take over for her, allowing her hands to heal with a proper salve and care. Mephisto, the first Articat from Khaiperion served as an editor. He was well versed in fact checking what the leyline divulged about the history of their people. Even now as she led Kaige into the office, the purple cat was curled up asleep on a large, open book that remained half written. The elegant, spidery scrawl of her handwriting stretched across a page: In the beginning there was Khali, the great Being of Nothingness. And from Khali came the deities with their light, life and beauty; and from the deities there came magic; and from magic, the Vanakaran—the Weavers—were born. They were those gifted with the power to weave the elements of nature with magic. Those who were born without that ability were referred to as Khali, or empty. Khaiperians are famous for their ability to weave magic and the elements, working in tandem with nature to achieve the results they seek through dancing—though it is said that anyone who possesses a source like it are considered Vanakaran, whereas the Vanakaran of Khaiperion have capitalized on the strength and multiplicity of a weave technique. There is a great debate over whether psions and psykers are considered Vanakaran, though many will argue that it's merely an internal casting of Vanakara, versus a typical external casting. The Vanakara is the source pool from which a person can tap into. Sabine Fenvaris is a well known Vanakaran who specializes in wielding earth and sand, whereas the Empress Raveena is a well known Vanakaran who typically wields water and is a skilled healer. There is a deep, spiritual belief that the elements are alive and that one must seek permission to use them before casting a weave. There have been documented incidents of the elements failing to heed a Vanakaran's call to aid. As such, the elements and the core of magic are deeply respected among the majority, and it is considered taboo to cast a blood weave on another, where the body is forced to the whims of the Vanakaran. A single eye opened at the smallest noise—and if Kaige looked at Mephisto for long enough, he would see the swirls of galaxies and the vast multiverse in the feline’s eyes. It was unsettling and uncomfortable to be in the presence of a spirt that was as old as time itself. All the same, Mephisto’s sassy commentary (along with the occasionally purple hairball) and scrutiny was helpful in mapping out Khaiperion’s history from the time of the Great Cataclysm to now. “Thank you for answering on such short notice, Master Severos.” Raveena gestured for him to sit in one of the two old, carved chairs that sat across from her desk. An elegant spread of simple food sat neatly on a tray by his side on a table between the two chairs. Raveena delved into her Vanakara and pulled thin, strong threads of power, weaving them together with graceful gestures in the doorway. She placed a solid ward on the door, stretching it along the walls of her many books, along the ceiling and the floor. “I don’t sleep well at night and I do my best thinking then.” She admitted, inspecting her handiwork before collecting her skirts and sinking into the cushion of her chair. Decorum relaxed; she heaved a heavy sigh. A lingering silence drifted between them for the span of an eternity. “You are a hunter, is that correct?” Leaning forward from her slouched position, she to rest against her desk. Her braid was a nuisance that slipped over her desk and was pinned between desk and chest. Clicking her tongue in annoyance, she freed it and flipped it over her shoulder. “You are a man who seeks supernatural things and kills them," She continued in a rhetorical fashion, "You are probably more sensitive to the supernatural than others are. I imagine you feel the unease that has stretched across the land. Genesaris is waking up, and it comes with a dire warning.” Her lips pursed thoughtfully as her golden gaze drifted from book to book. “There are stories of great endings to civilizations. The wrath of the divine and such.” Her hands laced together and rest in her lap. “I’m no prophetess,” She admitted—though many believed otherwise. The Circle of the Living Star was a fanatical—if not devout—religion that had long believed Raveena was the avatar of the sun god. It was in her name, in her blood, in her prophecy. It was not so, but it did not quell the believers. If anything, Arundae’raa tricking her into becoming a minor goddess of trials only deeper enforced their fanatical beliefs. “Being a godling of my status is not as grand and powerful as one would imagine. We are quite lesser than my full mantled siblings. If anything, it feels like I am a slightly more entitled sorceress than my magical peers. I hold dominion over the trials that others face—whether they are physical, emotional, mental. I am a spokesperson for the ethereal who don’t have a voice, like the leyline of Genesaris, among other things.” Her gaze leveled on the demon slayer, drinking in his weary, sleepy features. Hunters. She had always been drawn to hunters. It was a strange thing. Jesta’ said it was Dema’s influence. From Welfrick to Rowan, and now the hunter that answered her with pretty words that made her smile. They always died for her. “There will come a time when your hunting skills will be necessary, Master Severos,” Raveena picked her words carefully, dancing elegantly around a plan she had not yet fully laid out. She wanted to test his answer to the call. “I can expedite your citizenship into Khaiperion if you are truly intent on settling here. I assure you, your line of work will leave many wanting in the future.” @The Hummingbird

Khaiperion was on the cusp of annihilation. It was the nexus of her existence to prevail and prevent it, yet the mind and the body take a toll, and avenues are exhausted. The eyes and hands of Genesaris’ leyline, Raveena was burdened with knowledge she was certain was too much for her to bear. Just so—as she did—she adapted to the best of her ability and pondered. Heavy is the crown, she thought ruefully. Rowan was much changed since his return, and he left to seek answers to his newfound destructive power. She loved him so, but their relationship had never been conventional. The Chimera gave her a small measure of peace in his return, which was priceless and yet—filled her with infinite wealth of their love. She saw him with their children, and it was enough. It would have to be enough. No one ever said their positions in life would be easy; They are gods among men, now. He tasked his son Grant to look after the children. Raveena had much to do about the safety and sanctity of her nations. Khaiperion was budding, on the verge of flourishing. Two Queendoms and several cities rising up from a sordid past—but were now threatened by something beyond their control. They were pawns to a Pantheon they weren’t readily sure truly had their best interest at heart. Dema, Khaiperian god of the moon, of cycles and destruction, had carefully chosen Rowan as a vessel of his destructive power. It was a tragic thing, to know the love of your life would some day be the very thing that destroys everything. Raveena, a champion of the sun god Arun’daeraa, a trickster god who had been unforgiving in the many ways he deceived her to do his bidding. His influence was everywhere in the most unconventional ways. Raveena had grown to think of him less as a friend and mentor through the course of her life, and more of a necessary evil. At the end of their divergant paths, one thing became clear: Something terrible was coming to Genesaris. The night was young and Raveena had sent a summons. She wanted to know where allegiances lay and whom she could trust beyond the scope of her family. Artamese, Sabine and even Kirena were reliable women—but they were stretched thin with their own duties. Grant would be cross that she did not rely on him more, but with four children and one on the way for himself—he, too, would be stretched thin. Her quarters walked out into a lush oasis, overflowing with flora and verdant life. local to the city. The soft babbling of the pool often lulled her son to sleep on his worst nights, underscored by the distant crashing waves of Port Kyros' shores. The evening was warm with a cool, salty breeze, her toes splashing and making gentle roiling waves as she hitched the skirt of her nightgown and sat by the water’s edge. Despite its seeming lack of protection, Raveena had gone out of her way to secure her private terrace garden through powerful weaves of enchantment. Habitually, she ran fingers down her long braid in thought. Even submerged to her calves, she felt the leyline’s suck and pulse. Her mind drifted to the past yet recent events and what it all meant. -- She had—in her quest to seek the heart of the Genesar forest stumbled across something ethereal and magical. There was something bittersweet about the fleeting beauty. It was in the way the fish were blue—or were they the color of wine? They were white and speckled. A deep cerulean. Raveena realized they were whatever she wanted them to be. They were too beautiful to be real—and yet the purity of their beauty was bittersweet, and that was real. Raveena knelt at the soft, mossy banks. The river ran here—and with it came a sense of power. Her arms plunged into the running waters, biting and cold. She grasped a root and felt the sting of power like a jolt. She was the heart of the forest. She was the gently sighing tree of ages past, present and future. She felt deeply, saw far. She was every tree with roots, digging down, down—searching endlessly for the purity of energy and hope. Raveena felt it like a heartbeat—the suck and pulse of a leyline that ran through her. Magic raced through her veins. It was an act, an offer—a bargain? A trade off. It wasn’t that the leyline hadn’t promised her anything; she was given a power—a power to control her Vanakara the likes of which she had never known before. She didn’t belong to the leyline—no, she would still be herself. It did not entice her, no. She would simply watch and act to protect—and it would empower her. The was the hands and eyes of the leyline. It came with a knowing—a feeling. Was it life, or a soul? No, Raveena already possessed those things. A wisdom blanketed her shoulders like a shroud, burdening them. Her mind was whirring and ravenous. The leyline gleaned vicarious pleasure from her newfound realizations. Waves of energy pulsed through Raveena. In her mind’s eye she could see it. She felt it in the hands that firmly grasped the root, the water no longer cold and biting. She felt it tingling along her spine. She could see how perfectly mapped it was, her gaze drawn to its immeasurable length as it stretched through the mountains and valleys of the Rising West and onward. It beckoned to Raveena, and she leaned closer to the water—the trickling rush fading away the closer she leaned. For only a few effortless breaths, there was only the hum of the leyline within her. She took in the sound of water, the scent of rotting leaves and soft moss. When she inhaled deeply, the pulse quickened. When she exhaled, she felt the pull; aligned with the world around her. I could sense the stars prickling overhead. I could feel how oriented I was in relation to them. The earth embraced me, and I knew I was different. There was something anxious yet comforting; Myself, but less human. Myself, yet more. I could no longer tell if the earth was a powerful friend, or if the earthly power was now actually me. Raveena felt the coolness of water racing against her features. The cold numbness faded away, and yet she was still searching—her hungry mind seeking to reach further— This was the kind of beauty that erased sins. A selkie's tongue of a siren's song. And though she knew of the night sky and light of the sun, of jagged mountains where the wild wolves ran--drop by drop she returned to me, as rivers reach the sea. Have you ever touched a woman whose ethereal skin glittered like fins? She tumbled through the water and swam through a pile of golden leaves. They leyline embraced her, cradling her tired form and offering a moment of peace. She stared at the canopy, of its brilliant, sun-kissed leaves. She felt more Raveena than she had ever so close to these ancient, magical woods. The heart of the forest. She felt tentative vines sweeping along the length of her arm, as if it had yet to see another person in its home for some time. It was a sensation of reverence, a test of moods. Closing her eyes, Raveena allowed the leyline to seize her heart for several beats more. There's something poetic about those who think that their world is the only one. A born slave thinks the collar is the world. The slave master thinks his home is the world. A lord, his land. A king, his globe. A god, consumed by his divine mantle in the sky. Farther, wider—the higher you go, the more you realize; you've misunderstood the bounds of what is possible; of black and white and right and wrong; of what you are truly capable of… The heart of the forest gently poked and prodded at her thoughts. It clumsily took her memories, stretching and turning them, unpiecing them and sticking parts together in a hieroglyphic, dream-like sequence. Raveena fully opened her senses to the leyline and saw dozens of memories in the eyes of others. She saw the way her sons fiercely hugged and loved their mother. She tasted Rowan on her lips in a hungry kiss. She felt the respect of Sabine on her shoulder in a friendly grasp that trailed down to the soles of her feet and into the earth—reaching back to Raveena. She heard her surprised laugh, her private smile, the way her fingers stretched out for the warmth of the sun. Happiness. The heart was trying to convey a message—insisting on its intent and desire. Happiness! Raveena felt the tension in her shoulders relent. -- It was a thinking, feeling thing—the leyline. It showed her the past great rulers of Khaiperion, their feelings and namesakes as they connected with the raw power of magic. They were Ozan, Jinth and Madai. Powerful Vanakaran who would play a part in her nation's history. Still, the leyline valued more than their power. It valued happiness, she realized. She was introduced to its guardian, who—despite his gruffness—showed legitimate concern for her and her people because of their reverence for magic and their connection. He had warned her that she would have to return to her roots or Dema would win his wager. That something terrible was coming to Geneasaris and that things would have to change. And change did occur. Khaiperion welcomed the sixth nation, the Xulu nation from across the waters from Renovatio, seeking a new home that embraced their spirituality. Their gods destroyed, they found new gods to worship in Khaiperion, renewing the strength of the Pantheon and their magic weaving—and even Raveena. But would it be enough? In exchange for being the hands and eyes of Genesaris’ leyline, it gave her the knowledge to return home if she so wished. That was a very complicated gift to land in her lap. She was a princess of the Carmine Dominion. A queen to two lands and Empress to many more. A whole renaissance was flourishing slowly, beautifully. Happiness. The heart was trying to convey a message—insisting on its intent and desire. Happiness! Would they be happier if they could return to their home? A home long thought to be destroyed—and for a time, it was? This was a complicated thing to think about. If ruin would descend upon Genesaris, she realized, they may not have a choice. Raveena knew that position aside, she would sacrifice a great deal to ensure Khaiperion survived whatever was coming. She had to remain diligent, plan and prepare and give the right warning. She tugged roughly on her braid; her lips twisted as she felt perplexed. Trust was a precious commodity in the wake of an unseen war among gods. Things were changing. Raveena felt the brush of magic—like a tap on the shoulder as her wards were met with a gentle force. Her head canted towards the feeling as she half-turned. Raveena pulled herself from the water, beads traveling down her legs and skittering across the ledge before returning to the pool and leaving her dry. Pulling her evening robe around her nightgown tighter she returned to her quarters with purpose before sitting on a chaise sofa at the foot of her bed before the door. "Enter." She called, sitting prettily if not regally. Heavy though the crown is, she wore it well enough. She was twice imperial through Khaiperion's blood as well as Carmine. She had been born to rule. A servant entered quickly, dressed smartly in Khaiperions’ earthly colors. His arms crossed before him, palms flat over palm. He bowed once and rose. Bowed deeper a second time and rose again. Then bowed a final time, as low as he could bend out of respect to his Empress before he stood tall. With shoulders square he confidently announced in Vaa’denian, “Kaige Severos to see Your Imperial Majesty!” Bowing deeply to a waiting Raveena, he backed from her room’s entrance and gestured for the hunter to enter. @The Hummingbird

Yeh, we had a neat thing going but our schedules were all messed up at the time. I have mandatory overtime for the rest of the year so it's been wild. All of my ladies and their threads are off the table but I'll put a bug in my server and see if anyone's interested to head your way.

I say go for it, then~ It's an angle that hasn't been played out.

Depends on what your definition of a wetboy is. I have NPC'd the Web more than Hound has. Intellectually, the lore belongs to him, but you can ask me questions about them if you'd like, I don't mind! There is only one non-NPC member of the Web and I don't believe he RPs regularly here anymore. I've been working 50-60 hour weeks due to mandatory overtime at work, but this was brought to my attention so I'm happy to supply you with what you need. Conversely, you can also seek out the same person from the original quest, Kirena Yor. She is native to Dairut but lives in Umbra with Athyon, Emperor Rafael's Imperator. She is a former handmaiden to Raveena, and a secondary character of mine. It's a complicated situation. Raveena doesn't condone slavery and has on a few occasions liberated them elsewhere. Kirena Yor is the only slave she managed to liberate from Dairut which formed their relationship. However, Raveena's father, Emperor Rafael--does indeed profit from slavery a great deal. Raveena more or less looks away and has not further gotten involved in her father's affairs in Dairut, on the grounds it could start a war if she disrupted Umbra's trade. Slavery is big business in the Arcane East, after all, and she has a pretty iron clad relationship with her father otherwise. Because the thread did not continue, I assumed it defunct and non-canon, so there wouldn't be any survivors because it's as though it didn't happen. What else did you have in mind that you wanted to explore?

You are correct in that they are covert operatives, wetboys in particular. They work for both my main OC Raveena and her husband, whose user is also AFV indefinitely, the Hound. Their son Grant (danzilla) has his own separate faction, Aphelion. Raveena is not aware of their existence or their duty in service to the Khaiperian Empire.

Whisper This thread is from a little over a year ago. Benny is OOC banned and can't see your responses.

Updated w/new lore art courtesy of JSL. Do not steal or use without permission, yadda yadda. Lore Revision underway, 10% complete.

Ozan: Daichi, Reiwa, Touma, Suravi, Sa'kagé Madai: Kyros, Soriya, îara, Shíchéng Jinth: Temujin, Khanai, Erden