Tessa's observations as to the unchanging nature of the city she once called home were made all the more apparent as the carriage rumbled through the crowded streets of Nian. She looked through the clear window, her nose all but pressed against the glass, gazing with wide eyes. Like the memories of her sisters, recollections of the locations they passed jumped to the forefront of her mind as though they'd only happened yesterday.

The clear, salty taste of the White Sea was on Tessa's tongue and the air was filled with the smells of fish, meat and spices. All of it tangled together with the shouting of merchants hawking their wares, the laughter of children as they chased after the carriages and the biting cries of customers as they haggled with shop-owners. The sun stood proud overhead, shining down and soaking everything in blistering rays. It would be a while yet until noon, when all would retreat indoors and seek the shelter of shadow. Until then, everyone moved with purpose and contentment. It was a far cry from the desperation that could be felt on the streets of Myrin. For a time, Tessa wondered why they appeared to be so different before it hit her in a single, crystalline moment of realisation: They lacked something that all the citizens in Myrin possessed, a strength that was hard won through pain and toil. The affluence of Nian was clear to see to Tess, everyone dressed well and walking around with a smile that could only come with the surety of safety. Such an expression was rarely seen on the faces of those who walked the streets of Myrin.

Tessa loved Myrin, it was where she had met Orin, where she'd set upon the path to becoming a Smith in full, but she would be the first to admit that the people there contained a wariness of others that those in Nian lacked. It was an instinctual thing when one called the capital of Venos home. Crime was a constant threat, the gangs an ever looming sword that hung over the heads of everyone in the Commons. Even the guard were not immune to corruption, their greed for coin well known and exploited by many. Yet in Nian, there was no sign of that. Tessa spotted guards walking the streets, but they were dressed in elaborate and well maintained mail as opposed to the spotted tunics of those from Myrin. They greeted citizens with welcoming grins instead of scathing glares, their hands far from their weapons as they interacted with the populace.

It was such a large contrast that Tessa felt taken aback by the sight of it, and it wasn't the only evidence of how different the city was, far from it. There were no homeless on the streets, the roads were cleanly swept, and not once did she spot someone that could be described as up to no good.

If Orin had still been a pickpocket, he would have made a killing here. It would be like stealing from unaware children.

“Spirit, it's all so... clean,” The words of her Knight drew Tess back to herself as she turned to face Orin, his face close enough to hers that she had to force down a flush before it rose upon her cheeks as he stared through her window, “Even Yelmora wasn't like this.”

“It does make me think that we could be doing a better job with Myrin,” Elora admitted, her golden eyes alive with doubt as she took in the sights of Nian, “It's beautiful.”

“Thank you, Princess,” Freida replied studiously, “But it hasn't always been like this. Crime was rampant in Nian until only twenty years ago, when the current head of the guard took command. Over the course of his career, he's stamped out most of the larger gangs in the central city. Of course, no place is without nefarious characters, but they would never dare to tread this close to the port. It is the beating heart of Nian. The guard is on constant alert here, and our proximity to the High Lord's Tower means that they are often out in force. There is still the odd crime on the outskirts, but nothing so great as to be called organised. The last report posted by the Guard Captain to the High Lord's Court states that criminal activity in the city is down to a tenth of what it once was.”

“Gods, Freida,” Tilia rolled her eyes at her sister, “How do you know all of that?”

“I read,” Freida stated with a satisfied smile, “You should try it some time, little sister.”

“Oh, I don't think so,” Tilia said with a smirk, “I prefer living my life rather than reading about it in some dusty old tome.”

“Hardly dusty,” Freida replied, looking faintly confused, “The latest report was only written this year.”

“But why would you read that in particular?” Tilia asked, ignoring Dawn's soft slap against her arm to make her stop, “What's the point.”

“Lilian asked me to,” Freida said, pointing at the warrior next to her, who was conveniently hiding her head in both hands, “It was given to her by Arno, but she didn't have the time. I made her some notes.”

“I'm sure she didn't,” Dawn gifted Lily with a scathing glare, “Pawning off your duties onto your little sister, Lilian? For shame.”

“It was seven hundred pages long,” Lilian moaned, banging her head against the soft cushion of the carriage, “And it all amounts to about the same thing. Three hundred of those pages was dedicated to oil acquisitions for maintenance. Three hundred! What in the underworld could possibly be so important about oil that it requires nearly half the bloody report!?”

“Oh! It's actually rather interesting,” Freida perked up immediately, her gentle hands clasped at her waist, “You see, due to shortages of the last few-”

“It was rhetorical, Freida,” Lilian dead-panned, her eyebrows furrowed, “I wasn't asking.”

“I know,” Freida winked as she bumped her shoulder against Lily's, “I was just making fun.”

Tilia giggled girlishly into her hand as Dawn chuckled, shaking her head at the foolishness of her sisters. She turned her gaze to Tessa, who immediately returned to looking out of the window, hurriedly fixing her gaze elsewhere.

They had a touching reunion at the dock. In fact, things couldn't have gone better as far as Tess was concerned, but that still didn't mean she was a part of the family again. She saw how her sisters interacted, the connection they shared. It was something that she lacked. She'd known that going in, knew it when they'd left Yelmora behind, but it still didn't make it any easier to deal with. She didn't want to overstep herself, to try to be something that she wasn't.

Tessa hated social situations at the best of times, and despised being the centre of attention all the more. Now she found herself in the middle of both at once. She just wished they would speak to Orin or Elora, just to give her a few minutes to acclimate to this new environment. It was why she been staring out at the city to begin with, to give her time to process, to adapt. She lamented the fact that everything in life couldn't be treated like combat. She was good at fighting and shit at everything else.

When they'd left the Dock, Tess had been scared that she would be locked alone in the carriage with her sisters on the way back up the mountain. She didn't quite think she was ready for that yet. She almost breathed a sigh of relief when Orin and Elora had said they'd be accompanying her, the fact that they looked about ready to fight to ensure that was all the more heartening. With her Knight and Sister-Smith she could face anything. Well, almost anything.

The way her sisters were not so subtly staring at her was driving her a little fucking mad, but she couldn't expect to get everything she wanted.

The carriage itself was only big enough to seat six, but Tilia had insisted that she come along as well, which made the seating arrangements more than a little cramped, with the young woman all but sitting on Dawn's lap. No one seemed too bothered by that, so Tess pushed it to the back of her mind, fingers playing idly as she tried to ignore the fact that Dawn was staring at her again, her steely eyes cutting into her very soul. Boldrin and the others were in another carriage behind them, one which had been requisitioned with a snap of Tilia's fingers. Yet another reminder of just how much power her family held.

“So, how did you meet your Knight, Rainie? I mean, Tessa,” Tilia started sheepishly, “Sorry, it'll take some time to get used to that. We've been thinking of you as little Rainie for years now.”

“It's alright!” Tessa shouted even as she simultaneously cursed her idiotic response in her mind. Tilia jumped at her volume while Orin gave her a concerned look, his emerald eye missing nothing with its gentle gaze. Fool, she thought to herself, don't scream at them!

Her Knight's hand went to hers, wrapping it up and causing cooling flame to flicker across her skin. Tess took a deep breath, her lungs feeling half the size they usually were, before releasing it. Beads of sweat were beginning to form upon her head. Evidence of her nervousness. Her palms were also rather moist, but thankfully Orin didn't seem to notice, or didn't care enough to.

She couldn't believe this was happening. She'd naively assumed that her unease as to meeting her family would dissipate upon their initial reunion. She was so far from right that it was almost laughable, but she just about managed to keep it down. Laughing after screaming at her sister was a sure fire way to be called insane.

“W-We met on the night I arrived in Myrin,” Tessa began, being sure to control how loud she was, “Orin was at the orphanage. Boldrin took me there to see him.”

Blood on the sheets, dripping down onto sullied floors. The potent smell of medicine in the air, setting her nose aflame and clogging her throat with bitter aromas. Tess shook the memory away before it could form. It was beloved and reviled in equal measure. The day she'd met her Knight was the same day that he lay half dead in a bundle of soiled fabric.

“Ah, so that's where you stayed? At the orphanage?” Lilian replied, “It must have helped the Bond quite a bit to be so close. I didn't meet Hector until I was fifteen. It was nearly impossible to think that we would be Bonded only a year later. Even when we left for the Hall for training, we were still learning about one another. Having so much time together beforehand must have been a boon.”

“No,” Tessa shook her head, “I met him then. He didn't meet me till much later.”

Tilia blinked and tilted her head at the oddness of the statement, “What?”

Tessa hesitated to answer but a squeeze of Orin's hand said she didn't have to as he spoke in her place, “How much did Mastan tell you about Tessa's time in Myrin?”

“Not much,” Dawn replied darkly, her eyes moving between Orin and Tess, “Emotions were running high when he told us you were alive, Tessa. After Freida tried to attack father, we left well enough alone. None of us, not even Lilian, has said more than two words to him since we learned the truth.”

Tessa turned to Freida at that, the shy woman looking away as though ashamed. That more than anything spoke to how much her 'death' had affected her older sister. Freida hated violence, despised the mere mention of it. For her to attack father... She must have been broken.

Tessa, not giving herself time to think, leaned forward and patted Freida's hand, causing the woman to look her with wide eyes that were touched at the edges by tears. No words were spoken, for they didn't need to be, the act itself was enough.

“Myrin is not like Nian,” Elora began, her eyes finding Tessa's and nodding slightly, “As I'm sure you're aware, Lady Freida, crime is a rather large problem in our capital. I'm ashamed to admit it, but it's true.”

“And what does that have to do with Rainie?” Lily asked, her own stare moving from Elora to the mercenary.

“Mastan didn't think I needed a Smith so much as a protector,” Orin replied bitterly, his grip on Tessa's hand becoming fervent. She squeezed back as hard as she could, drawing him back up from his melancholy as he finally gave her an affirming grin, “I didn't meet Tess until I was fourteen.”

“Fourteen?” Freida blinked, her jaw dropping in shock, “But then... what were you doing for six years, Tessa?”

“Keeping Orin safe,” Tessa replied instantly and without the barest hint of regret or remorse, “I keep Orin safe.”

“From who, exactly?” Lilian asked carefully. There was something to her stare that wasn't there before, a wariness that simmered beneath the surface.

“From anyone. From everyone.” Tessa's tone was dead, her intense glare devoid of any emotion as she met Lily's eyes.

The temperature in the carriage dropped. It was as though a deep, soul biting cold had suddenly crawled its way in through the cracks of the door frames. A Venosian winter had come to disturb the Ragoran Autumn, bringing with it a fraction of the frost that was present during the darkest of nights in Myrin. The shiver found all of her sisters, only Orin and Elora were unaffected.

“Tessa is a great warrior,” Elora beamed and it was as though the dark was banished. The cold that had been brought with Tess' confession was pushed aside as easily as turning a hand. The aura of the Princess of Venos was so different from the Elements she kept hidden within her blood. Without even trying, she'd pushed aside the sharp intensity of Tessa's words, “In fact, she's teaching me how to fight. I can't say I'm very good at it, nor am I much of a student, but I have noticed a markable improvement. She's a great teacher.”

Tessa flushed from Elora's praise, pursing her lips even as she strived to stop herself from blushing from the embarrassment of it all. She hated compliments, but it was almost nice to be praised for something she prided herself on. Teaching Elora hadn't been easy, but the Princess was growing by leaps and bounds. She wasn't close to passable by the mercenary's standards, but Tess couldn't deny Elora was getting more skilled by the day, especially so when they were at sea.

“Tess also taught me,” Orin chimed in, nudging Tess with his shoulder, “She and Boldrin seemed to make it their mission to make my life as miserable as possible. Every morning she would kick the living shit out of me, then come back to do it all over again when Boldrin was done.”

“You didn't complain.” Tessa smirked.

“Why would I?” Orin grinned, his smile a match for Tessa's own, each filled with bloodlust, “You were better than me, and you bring out my best.”

“Were better? I still am, Orin.”

“Are we forgetting Yelmora now?”

“Bullshit, that was luck and you using First Sword, it doesn't count,” Tessa snapped as she folded her arms, fixing her Knight with a stern glare, “We fight right now and you'd be crawling away. That technique of yours isn't going to work twice.”

“Then stop the carriage, lets find out,” Orin's grin remained fixed in place, causing Tessa to bristle even as she felt her heart begin to beat faster as anticipation made it sing, “I could use the exercise. Wasn't much use at sea.”

“Perhaps later, you two,” Elora said scathingly, “We are guests here. We don't want to go destroying the streets of Nian on our first day.”

The Princess inclined her head to the sisters, who were staring at Orin and Tessa with baffled looks on their faces, “Excuse my husband and Sister-Smith, they tend to do this quite a bit.”

“It's quite all right, Princess,” Freida was smiling softly at her little sister, “You have changed so much, Tessa.”

The mercenary flinched at that, the blood draining from her face as she instantly looked away. This was it, the moment she'd been dreading. They'd seen her, a sliver of the self she kept hidden, the one that would do anything to keep the man sitting next to her safe. They were disgusted by what they saw, for how could they not be? Their words at the docks about change were empty, they didn't understand. Only Orin could see her, why did she expect them to be able to do the same? The talking would stop now, they would ignore her, leave-

A touch of Freida's hand to her own almost made Tess jump out of her skin and the hairs on her arms stand on end. Tess looked into Freida's sky-blue eyes and saw no judgement, only love and hesitation, “You're all grown up. I knew when you came off the ship that you were a fighter. You may not like hearing it, but you looked so much like father. When did you learn? Who taught you?”

Tess smiled shyly in return, though her thoughts were still a whirl, afraid of some cruel trick, “Boldrin and other members of his mercenary band. Many of them knew what Orin was, wanted to keep him safe. They sat with me on my watch and taught me.”

“I can see how close you are with your Knight and Sister-Smith,” Freida continued with a smile, “You must have gone through quite a lot together.”

“We have,” Elora said with a smile, “And we're stronger for it.”

“When I saw you come off the ship, I almost couldn't believe my eyes,” Lilian said with a laugh, the wariness in her eyes gone as she gazed fondly at Tess, “You look every inch the fighter. It's so strange to not think of you wearing dresses and playing with dolls.”

“You played with dolls?” Orin asked with a smirk.

“I was seven, Orin, of course I played with dolls,” Tessa replied briskly.

“I played with dolls,” Elora chimed in not so helpfully and with a bright grin, “I very much enjoyed them.”

Tessa groaned and placed a hand over her eyes in defeat, “Can we please talk about something else? Anything else?”

“We'll have to spar against one another one day soon, Tessa,” Lilian said excitedly, “It'll be so nice being able to practice with another member of our family besides Cassie or father.”

Tessa nodded hesitantly, “I would like that.”

The rumbling of the carriage beneath them brought their conversation to a sudden and unexpected halt. Tess looked outside to find that the exotic buildings had been replaced with cracked and blackened stone. She felt bile begin to rise in her throat as her vision spun, but she just about managed to get a hold of her panic. They had reached the foot of Dealanaich. It wouldn't be long now. Soon, she would see her father and mother again, for the first time since she was Inscribed.

She didn't quite know what to think.

Despite her assertion at the dock, Tess was unsure how to deal with the flood of emotions that permeated her very being. Half of her was looking forward to seeing her father again, while the other part was dreading it. The push and pull between negative and positive was throwing her for a loop, so much so that she decided to focus instead on the sight of the mountain itself to steady her mind.

As if by some unspoken agreement, all in the carriage fell silent. Every face, bar none, looked grim and taciturn. It reminded Tess of the times when she with the band on the eve of battle. All focused, all ready for the horrors to come. At that thought, she turned to her Knight. Orin's eye was closed, his breathing even and sure. He was preparing himself, his hands clenching and unclenching in the same moment. Tess looked away quickly before he noticed her attentions.

The slow ascent of the mountain continued unabated, the horses sure and the driver skilled as they navigated the steep cliffs and impassable, sharp formations. The higher they climbed, the further Tessa's stomach dropped, her nerves growing by the moment.

The time passed quickly, too quickly to Tessa, and before long she caught sight of the Nest in the distance.

It was an impossible thing, a mansion built into the very rock of Dealanaich itself. It was mismatched and odd looking to an outsider, but Tess could still see the beauty of it's peculiar design, the way the building moved with the mountain, not against it. Each complimenting the other, relying on each other. It was a home built to breathe in time with the Throne of Thunder, all sharp edges and precarious rooms perched over the emptiness of space. She'd read stories about it in the books given to her by her father before she left Ragora, how the first Smith of their clan had used unknown means to carve out the rock. The Nest marked the creation of Nian in many ways. All roads in Ragora lead to the D'viritazi, all paths to the head who sat on their family's throne.

To Mastan D'viritazi, the King of Lightning.

It was a title her father had earned through violence, through wars he'd fought with their neighbours and in service to the Hall. He had the respect of the continent, despite not leading the country himself. His lack of proper title beyond Lord would cause the Nobles of Venos to look down upon him, Tessa suspected, but it would be to their detriment. Mastan D'viritazi was a higher authority in Ragora than the High Lord or First Minister combined, his words carrying weight that was felt across the country, for it contained the power of generations behind every syllable.

“Tess, you're hurting my hand,” Tessa's eyes widened as she released her grasp of Orin. She hadn't even realised she'd taken a hold of him. Orin didn't look annoyed, however, he only smiled at her, nudging her arm once more, “Deep breaths. I'm right behind you.”

“We both are.” Elora said from the other side of their Knight, “We're not going anywhere.”

“And neither are we,” Freida stated intensely, “Whatever comes, know that we stand beside you, Rainie.”

Tessa didn't know where to look, so she only nodded while staring at the floor. Their assertions, especially Orin's, settled her frayed mind and let her once more find her centre. They were right, she wasn't alone and she needed to stop pretending that she was. It was just such a strange leap for someone like her, who had spent so long by herself, upholding her duty to her Knight. She took comfort from their presence, from their words, as she looked out of the window once more.

The carriage came to a stop soon after, outside of towering doors inscribed with images of birds shrouded in Lightning, each carved into the hardened rock, the contrast disconcerting in the extreme. A man stood on stone steps that led up to the slightly ajar entrance, surrounded by servants all dressed with the same bird wrapped in Lightning emblazoned on their chests, their uniforms a sky blue. The man himself was dressed far more formally, in blazing black. His well trimmed beard and tall, spindly frame evidence enough of his scholarly background. He pushed a pair of spectacles up his face with a trembling hand as he indicated for the servants next to him to open the carriage doors, his face as white as a sheet as he instructed them without a word.

For a moment, Tessa was worried that her father himself had come to see them arrive and let loose an almost desperate sigh of relief when she found that wasn't the case. She knew he wouldn't. From what little she remembered about the man, she knew that he liked to be in control, especially in the place he called home.

The door opened out into the raging furnace of Ragora, shimmering air rising from the surrounding stone. Tess took a deep breath as she was the first to step outside, shielding her eyes from the sun which was now approaching its apex. She looked to each of the well dressed servants in turn, but they refused to meet her gaze, bowing their heads in supplication as their party disembarked. She ignored the proffered hand and hopped down unaided, feeling the heat pound down upon her head. Tessa could say she missed many things about Ragora, but the sweltering and undivided attentions of the sun was not one of them. She preferred the dank and peaceful cold of Myrin, the sight of her breath freezing in the air.

That last one was particularly helpful. It helped her spot threats she otherwise wouldn't have seen.

“Lady Tessaraina?” The familiar voice of the man gave her pause. She recognised that sound, that intonation, so careful and measured, though she couldn't quite say from where, “Praise be to the Old Gods and the New! You're father told me you would be coming, but I dared not believe it. Welcome home.”

“Thank you,” Tessa replied quietly, still rather taken aback by the welcome, “You are...”

“Ah, of course,” The man bowed deeply, all but pressing his face to the rough ground below before standing straight once more, “I should have expected you wouldn't remember me, it has been years. It is I, Arno, your father's head steward.”

Tessa's eyes widened in recognition. Her father's right hand, Arno of Nian. She truly hadn't expected to see him here, in truth. He had been an old man when she'd left Ragora, having served her grandfather as head steward even before the birth of her father. He looked older now, far more tired, yet his body looked fit and as strong as a man half his age. It was said that nothing happened in the Nest without Arno hearing of it. Tess had thought it a tall tale, even back when she was so young, but she did have to admit that Arno seemed to know of Tilia's schemes before anyone else did, “I remember you, Arno.”

The old man beamed, his excitement all but palpable as his faded green eyes soared with warmth, “You don't know how happy it makes me to hear that, my Lady. We were all so shocked to learn of your loss. To see you here, now... It is incredible, miraculous.”

“Hello, Arno!” Boldrin's booming cry echoed out over the mountain, causing the servants to flinch and Arno himself to freeze, “You still working here, you old bastard? I would have thought Mastan would've let you retire by now.”

“Boldrin the Bold,” Arno said with false politeness as he gave a shallow imitation of the bow he gave to Tess. Luckily, the carriage carrying the rest of their group had been right on their heels and had arrived simultaneously. The sight of Boldrin gave Tess a little more courage, “I didn't expect to see you here.”

“Aye, I usually turn up in the unlikeliest of places,” Boldrin chortled as he stepped out of the box after Deirdric, the whole vehicle groaning with relief, “What, I don't get a hug?”

“Perhaps next time,” Arno frosty exterior cracked for a moment as a hint of mirth appeared in his eyes, “As always.”

Boldrin laughed once more, causing Annabelle to wince and glare at the man even as she gathered up her skirt to avoid it dragging across the sharp rock beneath her, “I think it prudent we go inside. I wouldn't want to be caught in this sun when noon arrives.”

“Arno, where is father?” Lilian asked as she disembarked, standing next to Tess with folded arms and a pointed stare, “I'm sure he's expecting us.”

Arno's face became dark for a second as he looked to Tessa. There was something hidden in his eyes, a displeasure, a loathing, that hadn't been present a moment before. The strangest thing was that it wasn't aimed at her. It seemed that her father had not just alienated his own family, but those that served him as well, “He is, my Ladies. Lord Mastan and Lady Theadora await in the Great Hall.”

“Fancy,” Boldrin huffed, “Guess he wants to make an impression.”

“The Great Hall?” Elora asked curiously, “A throne room of some sort?”

“Something of that nature, yes, miss..?” Arno was clearly having trouble placing Elora.

“Arno, may I present Princess Elora of Venos,” Tilia said brightly, bowing deeply to Elora who grinned sheepishly. The young woman clearly took great pleasure from the sudden shock that appeared on Arno's face.

“Princess... Elora?” Arno blinked twice before fixing Tilia with a stern stare, “I've no time for games today, little mouse. Can you not forgo your foolishness for the sake of Lady Tessaraina, at least?”

“She isn't lying, Arno,” Lilian said, trying to hide her own smile but failing, “This truly is Princess Elora of Venos, the next in line to the Venosian throne and daughter of Gida and Julian. This young man is Orin of Myrin, Elora's husband, future King of Venos and, of course, Tessa's Knight.”

“Tessa?” For some reason, the old man decided to focus on the name more than anything else. Tess felt a momentary pang of sympathy for the old servant. The man prided himself on being prepared for anything, which was something Tessa remembered well.

“Our sister prefers Tessa now, Arno,” Dawn said with a nod, “I believe she has outgrown Rainie.”

“Of course, you have grown so much, my Lady,” Arno said hesitantly, his eyes looking faintly glazed, “And it is a pleasure to welcome you here as well, Princess Elora, Lord Orin. This is... Well, I find myself at a loss.”

“Wait a minute, why did you believe Lilian and not me?” Tilia asked with a pout, all but stamping her foot in mock frustration.

“Because you lie an exceeding amount, Tilia,” Arno said distractedly, “I wouldn't be surprised if you said the Emperor was here and demanding pudding again.”

“That was one time!” Tilia threaded her arm through Tessa's, giving the mercenary pause, “Honestly, you make one little mistake.”

“It was hardly a mistake, my Lady,” Arno continued, slowly coming back to himself, “You had half the servants and your mother getting ready for a non-existent visit, all because you wanted a second dessert.”

Tilia shrugged, “It worked.”

“So, I'm assuming the Ladies with young Boldrin are also guests of note?” Arno said as he inclined his head to both Alden and Deirdric, “Good to have you home, you two. Deirdric, your father has been beside himself with worry. I suggest you visit him when the opportunity allows.”

“I will, Arno,” Deirdric replied as he wrapped an arm around Freida's shoulders, his adoring wife leaning into his embrace, “Thank you for taking care of him.”

“No need for that,” Arno smiled, “The bugger is nearly as old as I am and that comes with a certain solidarity.”

“This is Lady Vera of Myrin and her sister, Lady Annabelle. The First Knight and Smith of Venos.”

Arno took this revelation which much more dignity, fixing his spectacles with a chortle, “But of course they are. Such a presence as the Princess of Venos demands protection. A pleasure to meet you both.”

“The pleasure is ours, Lord Arno,” Annabelle inclined her head respectfully, speaking for the sisters, “My sister and I are glad for your hospitality.”

“Well, now that the introductions are out of the way, I suggest we follow Lady Annabelle's advice and go inside,” Arno said solemnly. He looked about as excited for what was to come as Tessa did, “You may not remember from your time here, my Lady, but the sun can be rather cruel this close to the sky.”

As the others began to follow after Arno, who spun on his heel with another bow to each of the sisters, Vera sidled up to Tess, Orin and Elora. Her eyes were narrowed as she watched the servants before turning her gaze to the sheer size of the building before her.

“So what exactly is our plan here, Lord?” Vera asked softly, “I want to know if Annabelle and I need to be prepared.”

Elora and Tessa both looked to Orin, who was staring at the D'viritazi home sedately, as though he had not a care in the world, before he shrugged and grinned at the First Knight, “Be ready for anything. Shit might get dangerous really fast.”

Vera let loose with a long suffering sigh, “I was afraid of that. We'll stay close to Elora and Tessa, then.”

Tessa was about to insist that she didn't need protection, but the look in Orin's eye brokered no argument. She continually found it funny that, if it had been anyone else who'd dared to insist she needed to be kept safe, she would have laughed in their faces. But when Orin did it, she only felt a warm sense of content spread through her chest that set her cheeks aflame. Not that she would ever let him know that. Tessa rolled her eyes at her Knight, grabbing Elora's arm and pulling her along to join her sisters with what she hoped was confidence, despite feeling anything but.

As soon as they passed through the ancestral doors to what was once her home, Tessa felt like she'd been punched in the stomach.

Nothing had changed. The symphony of soft stone and warm wood adding gravitas to a space that was already grand, laden with precious art and weapons from a hundred battles. The D'viritazi clan were a war-like family descended from a war-like people and their home reflected that. Each piece on display, be it a portrait or a broken halberd, was taken from a battlefield a member of their family had walked. The whole building exuded a history that dwarfed even the palace of Myrin. Tess couldn't help feel intimated by it all, almost as though the spectres of the past were staring down at her, judging her.

Each step seemed to be heavier as she followed after her sisters, each breath becoming harder to force from frozen lungs. She suppressed a tremble in her hands even as she pushed a stray strand of hair from her eyes, forcing herself to grit her teeth. She refused to be defeated by this. It is nothing compared to the dark of Myrin, to the shadowy existence she had once lived. She was stronger now, better. Tessa had survived impossible odds and taken the lives of dozens, if not hundreds, of warriors. She wouldn't allow herself to quail at merely taking a few steps. It spat on how far she'd come, on who she was.

Orin walked beside her without saying a word. In fact, he barely looked around at all. His eye was fixed on Arno's back, his face becoming more grim by the second. He was so strong, Tess thought quietly to herself. Even in a place like this, he didn't falter.

As the entourage continued down the winding corridors of the Nest, the tension in the air only grew all the more unbearable. Even someone like Tilia felt it, her face becoming drawn as they drew closer to their destination. All felt the gravity of the moment, of the meaning it held for Tessa.

The doors appeared quickly in the distance. They were nearly as tall as those that stood at the entrance to the Nest itself, each covered with the same birds covered with Lightning. Tess didn't quite know the correlation between her family and those magnificent creatures, so artistically teased out of the wood by master sculptors. She just knew it was their crest, and had been for centuries, since the advent of the First Knight. She found herself fixating on them as they drew closer and closer, almost like she was trying to draw courage from the images alone. They seemed so free, despite being still, their wings spread as they soared amidst a brutal storm.

The doors opened even before they got there, the sudden crack of their separation causing a few in their party to jump. Only Arno seemed unaffected, walking with a sure and steady gait as he strode into the hall beyond.

The Great Hall of the D'viritazi was the oldest room in the Nest, the beating heart of Tessa's one time home. It was built in the style of their ancestors, who were closer to Wellinders than the Ragorans of today. The whole thing was almost savage in appearance, with many furs thrown onto the ground seemingly at random and a large firepit set into the centre that was devoid of any flame. Their were no portraits or tapestries here, only weapons of times long past. They seemed so old that many of them looked like they would fall apart at the barest touch.

Tessa examined every square inch of the Hall, taking in its size, the decorations, the ornately decorated pillars, until finally she could put it off no longer.

She met the eyes of her father.

He met hers.

Mastan D'viritazi stood at the other side of the hall, his sky-blue eyes fixed to Tessa and no other. How he knew her at a glance, she couldn't know, but he did. Even from the distance she stood from him now, Tess could feel his presence. His aura seemed to draw all eyes to him at once, his straight back and piercing stare surging past all defences and seeing to the soul of whoever caught his eye.

He hadn't changed much since Tessa had left all those years ago. The shaved head remained, cut closely to the scalp, as did the long beard that was threaded with rings of gold. Another remnant of their savage origins and one her father wore proudly to honour those who came before. He was tall and slim, though very little on him could be described as anything other than muscle. As a Knight, in Ragora, Mastan was without peer and she believed it as she looked upon him. For a man well into his fiftieth year, he was beyond reproach in that regard.

Tessa hurriedly found herself averting her gaze as soon as their eyes met. She felt sweat begin to form on her forehead, the nerves that she had conquered rising to the fore. It was almost like those sky-blue eyes ripped apart all of her preparation for this moment. She couldn't move, she could barely breath. If it wasn't for Orin's arm on her back, she would have just stood there, completely still.

They walked forward until they arrived at the throne of stone that Mastan stood before, a cruel thing that was carved from Dealanaich itself. It was only then that Tessa's eyes drifted to the woman sitting behind her standing father, in a smaller seat made of same. Tessa's heart turned to dust within her chest as she felt tears rise and swell. She couldn't contain them.

After all, what daughter didn't love her mother?

Theadora D'viritazi stared at Tess as though nothing else existed. Her body trembling as she whispered quietly into the air. Tess couldn't hear what she was saying, but she didn't have to. She knew the Prayer of Protection off by heart, for Theadora had come to Tessa's room every night to say it over her as she slept. Tessa remembered pretending to sleep, for she didn't want her mother to stop. Her voice was so calm, made her feel so safe. Theadora had been absent in many aspects of her daughter's life, but that was the one thing she always did without fail. She spoke to the Old Gods and begged them to protect her daughter from all harm, to allow her to awake with a joyous heart. It was an old tradition and one rarely used since the founding of the Great Spirit's church, but the Old Gods still held great meaning in Ragora, and to her mother in particular.

Tessa felt like she was child again in that moment. A lonely, seven year old girl crying in the dark and wanting nothing more than the touch of her mother to drive the monsters away. Tess took a step forward involuntarily before stopping herself. She clenched her eyes shut, purging the thought from her mind. She was a child no longer, but a woman grown. With difficulty, she opened her eyes once more and turned from her mother. She couldn't be weak, not in front of him.

“My Lord, my Lady,” Arno started stiffly, “May I present your daughter, Tessaraina D'viritazi-”

“We know who she is, Arno,” Theadora's voice was quiet, though that didn't stop it from carrying, “How could we not?”

“As you say, my Lady.” Arno nodded his head quickly in contrition before taking a step backward so as to give Tessa a clear view of her parents. Now that she could see her mother more closely, she noticed how diminished Theadora seemed. Her auburn hair and steel eyes lacked the lustre that she had once radiated. It was almost like she had aged thirty years, not ten. The haunted look to her gaze caused more pain to pull at Tessa's heart.

“You look strong, Tessaraina,” Theadora continued, each word clouded in hesitation and self-doubt, “You look well.”

Tessa said nothing.

“We know you must hate us. For sending you away to that... that place,” Theadora bowed her head, as though to hide from Tessa's searching glare, “I've often dreamed of this moment. Of seeing you again, of begging for your forgiveness. Yet now that you stand here, I do not know what to say. You are a woman grown and I have missed much of your life.”

Theadora got to her feet then, pushing herself free of her uncomfortable seat and walking down the small steps to stand level with Mastan. Her father continued to say nothing. He only stared at each member of the party in turn before fixing his eyes to Orin.

“I have come to realise that nothing I do or say can make up for the pain we caused you. I know now that it was foolish to believe it was even possible. I don't want to overwhelm you, nor do I wish to force you to speak. We are both different, both of us changed. I only hope that, maybe one day, we'll mend this thing that is broken between us.”

Tessa looked to her mother, wetting her lips. The look on her face, the clear guilt she felt, gnawed at Tessa in a way she hadn't thought possible. Everything felt so surreal, so far away. Even knowing she was coming, even knowing she would see her again, it just didn't seem real. More like a dream she'd had when she was young, of reuniting with her family, of being accepted and loved.

“Tessaraina.” Her father spoke for the first time and all eyes were drawn to him. His voice was at once soothing and powerful, carrying across the room easily and demanding to be heard. It was the sound she was most dreading, one which pushed her into a pit of despair, made her think of the nightmare of yesterday, one which she'd hidden from for years.

Of being dragged through the halls of the Nest by her father in the dead of night, his feet moving swiftly as she cried, as she strained to keep apace.

“Welcome home.”

Tessa felt her vision swim, her breathing become uneven. She could barely see anymore. Mastan's hand was raised, coming forward as she stumbled back into someone standing behind her, her need to escape, to flee, becoming all-consuming. Concerned looks bloomed on everyone's faces, panic swift to follow as her sisters began shouting. All she could see was her father's face, so different from the one he wore now. It was the expression that had been etched there ten years ago, one filled with terrible purpose as he led his daughter to a den of unimaginable pain.

She closed her eyes and reality faded away.

*

Tessaraina lay on the cold slab, smiling as best she could even as the tears poured down her cheeks. She'd learned by now that the pain got worse when she struggled, and it made mother cry. She needed to be brave, she needed to make her father proud.

The man went to work with his cruel instruments, the needles and knives screaming as they carved sigils into her skin. Inside she was screaming for all she was worth, pulling against the chains that bound her small body in place, but outwardly she merely stared, her emotions deadened, at her parents who stood nearby.

Mastan had a hand wrapped around Theadora's shoulders, his arm rising and falling with her great, heaving sobs. Tessa strained to catch her mother's eye, hoping her little smile would be enough to deserve one in return. She just wanted them to be proud of her. She didn't know why this was happening, but she knew it must be for a good reason. Her father only ever took care of her, he loved her. He wouldn't hurt her like this if it wasn't for something important.

An involuntary scream left her lips as the knife slipped and went deep into her chest. She could feel the blood on her skin, warm and sticky as the biting pain of the many runes she'd received sang sweetly in the hot air.

“How much longer?” Her father asked, though Tessaraina could barely hear him. She was so sleepy, she just wanted to drift away, but every time she tried the pain would start again.

“A few more hours,” The man said through a stutter. He barely looked at her, treating Tessaraina more like an object, a piece of meat, “The circuit must be completed or it will all be for nothing.”

“Stop this, Mastan,” Theadora said through tears as she finally looked at her daughter once more, allowing Tessaraina to see the sliver of horror there, “Please, for the sake of our souls, stop this.”

“It must be done,” Her father spoke, though he seemed to barely believe his own words, “For Ouros, for all of us. We must do this.”

“I...I-I'm okay, mama,” Little Tessa beamed as best she could, knowing how much it cheered her mother up when she did, her father too. Her voice sounded so far away, “Don't cry.”

That just made Theadora all the more emotional as she tried to yank herself free of Mastan's arms to reach her little girl, but it was all for naught, for she was as weak as a babe before the mightiest Knight in Ragora, “By the Old Gods, let her sleep! Please!”

“She cannot,” The man shook his head firmly, “She must be conscious when my work is completed.”

Tessaraina remembered the bitter herbs that the man had fed to her before she'd lain down. He'd said they were medicine.

The carving contained unabated, the little girl forced to listen to the sounds of her skin being cut and peeled, the agony of each slice making her breathing all the faster. At some point, Tessaraina hadn't been able to keep smiling. It had all become too much for her. She'd started to scream soon after, the cries of despair echoing out into the room around her. It wasn't long before her throat was ripped and torn, the harrowing shouts of Tessaraina D'viritazi becoming shallow whimpers before becoming nothing at all.

That was when Tessa noticed him.

He was so... beautiful.

His eyes drew her in, held her tightly and refused to let her go. One was a beaming emerald that shimmered with a thousand hues. It was filled with such a love for her, all for her, that she'd never experienced before, not even from the members of her own family. For some reason, that eye meeting hers caused more tears to fall, but not from pain. All she felt was joy, belonging and a sense of right that rumbled through her very bones.

The other was a kaleidoscope of black and grey clouds, ones that were filled with the pressured promise of a Storm. She knew that eye, knew it so well that it felt like it was a part of her. A piece of her, given to him.

She couldn't see his body, for it was wreathed in shadow. The Dark held him close as though it were a mother swaddling a beloved son. Silver stars moved within that immutable night, hungry and imperial, their brief attentions causing Tessa to freeze as though something so much larger than itself had taken a hold of her. Finally was the Lightning, wild and free, tempestuous and torrential in its inherent violence. She felt her very soul shake at the sight of it, like it was as much a part of her as the figure's eye was, perhaps even more so.

The knife dug in deeper and Tessa cried out weakly once more. She was no longer able to contain her sobs as they rampaged through a dried and worn out throat. She pulled feebly at the chains, trying to catch sight of the figure but finding it difficult. Her vision was blurring, her eyes not working like they were supposed to.

The room shook.

The man moved onto her legs next, his needle coming down to jab into flesh that was already cut to shreds. Tessa bit her tongue, her mouth filling with blood that she spat to the side with a stuttering cough. Her mother was raging again, but she wouldn't be able to do anything. Tessa was alone. So alone.

The room shook once more. The figure was moving towards her, but it was as though his steps were being impeded by an unstoppable force. Every movement seemed to give him pain, yet not once did he falter.

“Go back,” Tessa stuttered weakly, the taste of copper on her lips as she begged, “Go back!”

She didn't know him, but he was precious. She needed to keep him safe, nothing else mattered, nothing else was allowed to matter.

The roar that followed caused the stone beneath his feet to crack and the figure was forced to his knees. He didn't stop, not once. He just kept moving forward, crawling and leaving a trail of blood in his wake. Each placement of his hands and feet resulted in shattered stone and warped flesh beneath the shadows that encompassed him. Whatever was pressing down on the figure was so immense, so colossal, that she was sure he would be crushed. Yet he continued, his body weakened and frail as he fought against the world around him.

The knife rose into the air once more, ready to descend and carve yet more obscure words into her body. As it began its fall, the world slowed for an instant and a name appeared on Tessaraina's lips. She trembled in fear, closing her eyes as though to hide herself from the pain that was sure to follow even as she whispered it to herself, like a prayer, an oath.

A promise.

“Orin.”

He wouldn't make it in time. She knew it and so did he. The figure was still struggling, still pushing but it would soon all be for naught. Why did she have to be so weak? Why did she have to be so useless?

No! No! She refused to let it end like this!

Tessaraina raged against her bonds once more, her fury doubling as she moved faster and faster. She felt the hairs of her arms stand on end, smelled ozone on the air and heard thunder in her ears as she stared up at the man towering above her, blade poised and ready. Tessa's fear fell away in that moment. All she felt was anger, a deep abiding fury that had hidden inside of her for years. It had been wasted when she was a child.

But she wasn't a child anymore.

She was through with running.

“I won't hide anymore,” Tessa growled as the world slowed even further as she forced it to bend to her will. She saw Lightning, bright white and burning with a blue core, shimmer as it moved through the room in great flashes, “I'm done with being a shadow!”

The chains on her wrist began to rattle and fray as she smashed them against the slab with all of her strength, “I am Tessaraina D'viritazi of Myrin! I know who I am!”

A final roar echoed out into the room as the surrounding rock was turned to rubble. A black hand, wreathed in chaos, wrapped around the neck of the man who was torturing her, lifting him into the air as though he were nothing at all. She saw the man struggle, the knife waving around futilely as it bounced off of the man's abyssal skin. Lightning poured from the figure's palm, turning the torturer to dust in an instant.

The nightmare began to crumble in much the same way. The walls, the slab, the chains that held her down, all of it faded. The last to go were her parents. The looks on their faces, the guilt and pain they felt, were what stayed with Tess when they, too, returned to the darkness of the void.

*

Tessa came back to herself in an instant, but she didn't dare to move, nor to breathe. She could feel his forehead pressed against hers, the feeling of his hands wrapped around her, holding her tenderly.

She could hear the sounds of shouting, an amalgamation of her sisters and mother, but she pushed them from her mind as quickly as they appeared. She wanted to stay like this for a moment, to make sure the already fading memory wouldn't decide to return.

“I'm so sorry, Tess,” Orin's breath was hot against her cheek, the sorrow in his voice making Tessa open her eyes and stare at her Knight with a frown. He was already looking at her, his eye gleaming, “I'm so sorry you had to go through that alone.”

He was there.

It wasn't a memory of him, a phantom summoned from her psyche to battle the evils that lay dormant in her soul. No, it was him. He must have followed their Bond, run along the connection, to pull her back out again. But... how was that possible? Tessa chortled to herself silently. Perhaps the better question was how could he not?

Her Knight made a habit of doing the impossible.

“You saw?” Tess asked, her voice shaking. No, he shouldn't have seen that. He should never have to see her so broken... so lost.

“I said I'd save you from anything,” Orin grinned at her suddenly even as his tears began to fall, “Even if that means from your own mind. You couldn't get away from even if you tried, even in your dreams. Though it didn't seem like you needed much help to begin with.”

Tessa couldn't help but laugh, the sound loud and clear even as she wept to accompany the sound. Orin joined her in both regards, their foreheads still pressed together, “I didn't know you could do that. If I did, I wouldn't have bothered fucking fainting.”

“Aye, it was a little bit dramatic,” Orin chuckled, “Your family looks about ready to attack us to get to you.”

Tessa shook her head softly as she whispered, “You're my family.”

“And I always will be.” Orin replied, his words just as gentle, “But we'd best get up before Boldrin's forced to bang some heads together.”

“W-wait,” Tessa started, her tongue heavy as she stopped Orin from separating, “J-just a little longer.”

Orin didn't reply, he just stayed exactly where he was as Tessa wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close, shivering all the while. She didn't know what had come over her, but she just needed a few more seconds to get over the vision she'd seen, so clear and vivid in her mind. The pain of it, the mind-rending agony that had suffused her whole being.

Of course, that was another lie.

“Rainie!” Tilia voice cut through the rest of the voices, which had begun to fade when the sound of her laughter had filled the air, “Are you alright?”

Tessa sighed in frustration, wanting nothing more in that moment than to punch her sister in the face, but she finally came to the rather annoying conclusion that Orin was right. Nice as it was, it had to end sometime.

Orin rose first, offering her a hand which she shoved away with a grumble. Tess pushed herself to her feet and looked to her concerned sisters. She was expecting any number of things to be on display. The last thing she was expecting was this.

Vera, Annabelle, Boldrin and Elora had created a small ring around the pair, each of their company staring out at another circle of blades that surrounded them. Alden and Deirdric stood to the side, the conflict on their faces apparent for all to see as the former glared murderously at the gathered guard with his teeth clenched and hands wrapped into firm fists.

Tess had noticed the guard on the way into the Grand Hall, members of her father's personal detail. Each was dressed in elaborate gold coloured mail, their standards standing proudly on their chests. In each of their hands was a sabre and shield. They were sworn to protect her family at all costs, the oaths they took binding until death found them in battle or in bed. Tessa's own guard when she was small looked similar, though she'd never seen any of them as afraid as they were now. Staring down Boldrin with an axe in hand was liable to make anyone shit themselves. Wait until Vera got going, then they'd truly have a reason to do so.

“I'm fine,” Tessa snapped, her glare finding her sisters, their mother standing next to them, “What the fuck is all this?”

“Well, you fell,” Freida asked, concerned, “Is everything alright?”

Tilia pointed at Tessa's 'honour guard' with a petulant finger, “They wouldn't let us near you!”

“There was truly nothing you could have done to help, Lady Tilia,” Elora replied coldly, “If there was, I would have allowed you closer. As it stood, there was no way in the underworld that I was going to let you near my Knight while he helped my Sister-Smith.”

Tessa didn't think she'd ever felt more proud of Elora than in that moment, nor closer.

Boldrin laughed as he turned to Orin and Tessa, placing his axe on his back and clapping a hand on each of their shoulders, “You two should have dozed a little longer. These fuckers very nearly died and they don't even know it.”

The guard bristled at that, the fear in their eyes turning to anger until Boldrin turned to face them all once again, “'Course, I'm more than happy to have a go anyway, lads. You just say the word if you want to meet your maker and I'll hurry you along.”

“Guardsmen, you are dismissed,” Mastan's voice carried over the din and the guard's response was instantaneous and impeccable. As one, they sheathed their swords and turned, each making their way to their posts as though they were one single organism, “Tessaraina, are you well?”

Tessa looked over Orin's protective shoulder towards the figure of her great father. Mastan D'viritazi was standing where he had been before she'd fell, his hands clenched before him as he stared at her with a hint of worry in his eyes. Beside him stood one of the guard, this one lacking the helmet worn by the others. Strangely enough, Tess seemed to recognise him, though, like Arno, she couldn't place him for the life of her. A memory of him niggled at her brain, pulling at her. He was of an age with her, perhaps slightly older, with a head of dark, red hair and brown, intense eyes. One of his hands was on the sabre at his waist and as his gaze met hers, a smile rose there.

Tess dismissed him in the next moment, facing her father once more.

The anxiety she'd felt when he had spoken, the nervousness and fear that had consumed her, it was gone. She felt nothing as she stare at the man now, her breathing and body in time with one another. She didn't quite know the significance of what had taken place in that nightmare, but clearly something had changed. She felt different, more sure and steady, like the her before she'd stepped off the ship in the D'viritazi docks.

She said nothing to her father, for another caught her attention first. Orin was facing away from her father and staring at her with a titled head, tears still touching at the edges of his eye. She saw such love in that stare, so much so that she felt her stomach flip and her lower lip tremble.

Then his expression began to change. Tessa felt a great heat rise within her soul space, one which wasn't coming from her. This wasn't new, she realised. She'd been feeling it since they'd gotten on the carriages headed for the Nest, before then even, when they'd boarded the ferry that left Yelmora.

Tessa frowned and reached into herself, touching the Bond and following along it, searching for the source of the heat that grew more intense by the moment.

It was Orin's soul.

It was screaming.

Black flames stretched high into an abyssal sky, silver sparks danced throughout Orin's soul space like stars on a moonless night and Lightning, flailing and raging, struck out seemingly at random, seeking something, anything, to destroy, to turn to dust. She felt his rage like it was a physical thing, a potent fury that wished to lay waste to all around it.

Tessa opened her eyes and grabbed a hold of Orin's hand. She cried then, unable to stop herself because she knew what was about to happen next. She couldn't stop him, nor was she even sure she wanted to. Her Knight had seen the darkest part of her and it had turned his gently swaying soul into a deafening inferno that she could feel even in her own body. To deny it was impossible.

But he had to know it wasn't his fault.

“I forgive you, mother. And you, father,” Tessa began as she beamed at her Orin. All stopped talking, all set to listen as Tess started to speak. Her words made her mother flinch and caused Mastan to frown, both pairs of eyes filled with confusion, “How could I blame you for sending me to him? All the pain I went through, the despair, the feelings of abandonment, of being forgotten. All of it was worth it.”

“I regret nothing,” Tessa growled at her Knight as she held his hand all the tighter, “Do you hear me, Orin? I regret fucking nothing.”

Orin raised a shaking hand and placed it against her cheek. Tessa pressed herself against it, weeping as she was consumed by his stare. She saw nothing else, for nothing else mattered, not truly. The emotions she'd felt roiling in her gut since meeting her sisters, her parents, all of it fell away, turning to nothing. Those were empty thoughts. She wanted to know them, wanted to be a part of their lives, but that didn't change who she was. He was hers as she was his.

In the end, when all else was stripped away, she still had him.

“Neither do I,” Orin replied gently, “I don't regret you coming to Myrin, you going through the things you did, because it meant that we could meet. I ask what kind of man that makes me? To be content with you going through so much pain, so much heartache. For what? For me?”

“All for you,” Tessa intoned, each word harsh and poignant as she dragged each syllable out, “Always for you.”

Orin took in a deep, shaking breath as he closed his eye, “You can forgive him, Tessa. But I can't,”

The world slowed and Orin moved.

Her Knight spun in place and smashed his fist into the chest of her father. Such was the force of the blow, such was the agony behind it, that it lifted Mastan D'viritazi off of his feet and sent him flying backwards, causing him to slam into his throne with a sharp cry of pain. The sound of swords being drawn was quick to follow. The young man who stood next to Mastan's eyes widened as his sabre jumped into his hand. He dashed forward and placed the tip of his blade to Orin's chest, his reflexes and training coming to the fore as he glared threateningly at the man before him.

“Stay where you are!” The man roared into Orin's face as Tessa heard the sound of Boldrin removing his axe from his back, of Annabelle becoming light and sinking into her sister's skin. She even heard the rough echo of Elora's dagger leaving the sheath on her belt, “You dare to-”

Orin knocked the blade away as though it wasn't even there. The man only had time to look surprised before he was lifted into the air by his throat. Orin held him suspended, armour and all, in only one hand before he smashed the young man into the ground with cataclysmic force.

He didn't rise after that, his consciousness fleeing the anger of the Scarred Knight of Myrin.

Mastan had gotten to his feet, his shock cast aside as he once more placed his hands behind his back. He stared at Tessa's Knight imperiously as he approached, “So this is your solution, Knight of Knights? What do you hope to gain?”

The sounds of fighting appeared at Tessa's back, but she couldn't turn away even if she wanted to. Her eyes were fixed to his back, to the strength he exuded.

“I saw what you did, Mastan D'viritazi,” Orin's growl was animalistic, feral and filled with savage intent, “I saw the knives cutting into her flesh, saw her try to smile to spare your fucking feelings. If I gain anything from this it'll be to make you feel a shallow reflection of what she felt, of what she had to endure. I protect Tessa. I wasn't there to save her from you, but I can make sure you suffer for every fucking second of it.”

Mastan's eyes widened momentarily as he looked to Tessa, who didn't even acknowledge his presence, “Memory transference... Incredible... Impossible.”

He smiled then, a small and bitter thing that was no smile at all. Her father chuckled darkly into the air as he brought himself up to his full height, “Then it wasn't all for nothing. Your Bond is strong, Tessaraina. I'm so proud of you. I know what I've done, Knight of Knights. I know that, for me, there will be no Infinite Void when my end comes. I am destined to burn in lakes of fire for what I did to my Rainie. I've had to accept that fact. But for Ouros, for my country, I would do anything. So come at me, Orin of Myrin. Show me what else you can do. Let us both pray that the price for my soul was worth the cost.”