YUVEN

With those two out of the way, I can pry information out of His Royal Chairwarmer. I know he was in contact with the Naveeran monarchy, and I want to taste bitter victory for the grave they dug for themselves in the snow. We can let the blizzard slow down the Derelicts and focus on the southern desert — but that starts with protecting a king. A king who won his throne through bloodshed, whose father destroyed my Oathbound's life. Yuven moved pieces on the board, to put the Storm Wardens at choke points around Sivaport and the most recent Derelict infestations on a large, thick paper at his side. Books piled on the corners of the tables, and he knew more of Hanekan history then he wanted to know in his no longer short lifetime. At the back of Kalla's private library, a curling cover surrounded by a matrix sphere. Protecting it... or protecting me? He huffed, and Neven's rabid obsession bared its small fangs on the bridges of fate. No... I won't resort to the Obscura Texts either for the information I want. I'll pry it out of the ground if I have to. Some of the books themselves squished against his brow with their ferocious knowledge, a glimmer of words — the truth from the Obscura too difficult to decipher without crystal eyes.

And Fenrer has enough on his plate. Enough pain from me. I will not put that on him. Best that I do this alone. Yuven unraveled the scrolls to mark down the infestations, to set patrols on those routes and create a defensive wall around Sivaport. One made of crescent blades and wyvern protected stars. All that's left is to get these bulletins to the Lodge, then come back and have a conversation with a certain monarch. If he's smart, he'll listen to Commander Faehariel's suggestion to leave Sivaport and take refuge on Euros. Even if Fenrer and Adara are giving him far too much credit. Knuckles pressed against his fingers until he heard a satisfying pop of bone. He flicked icy wisps into the books, to levitate them back to his workdesk.

A ripple of inky worms filled his vision, and he nearly lost his balance with the clatter of books on the ground. Hand on the edge of the table, he lowered himself to his knees, taking a breath when the worms slithered and left slug trails of crimson in his view. His hands fumbled on his armor, slipping out a phial of stardust into his stiffening fingers. He drained it all in one gulp, the prickle of numbness sweeping down his chest as he lowered himself to the ground, slowly, resting himself on his side as he waited for it to subside — or turn into a flash.

Godsdamnit. Yuven rolled onto his stomach to try and grasp onto his magick, to the clattered books on the floor in a disorganized, pitiful mess. It rang in his ears. It shuddered his feathers deep to their barbs. One. Two—Gods, I hate this feeling. He rested his brow against the rug. Three. Four. The ringing failed to reach its screeching song, and he listened close when the crushing of his skull followed suit to the silence. Using his elbows to prop himself up, he slowly straightened himself out against the leg of the table, trying to shake out the last of the fuzz. Or not. I don't have time for this. Another breath, and he sat there, useless. Yuven Traye. I am Yuven Traye. Once the quiet expanded, he dared to crawl his way to the books, to haul them into his arms to put them on the desk before checking his moonwatch. Got about... five minutes before the stardust wears off. So much for that. How fast can I get to the lodge and get these patrols sent out? Yuven made sure his balance was suitable before swiping the scrolls to shove them into his belt. And I'll have to tell Maria about this episode. A sigh left his throat as he stomped his way out of the study.

Housecarls — or in his eyes, just another way to say knight seeing as they protected a monarch with their lives — gave him a wide berth. He'd deal with said ruler later as he left through the large doors and into the courtyard, where the lighthouse's shadow followed the movement of the sun like a dias. Flowerbeds lined the base of the castle, blooming jasmines. Thatch awnings protected doorways into the walls themselves, but he headed for the gatehouse. Underneath the gates and over gated holes with unpowered runes beneath them for the castle's defense, he left its confines into the wider, stone streets of Sivaport.

Houses sat on raised platforms of stone. Drains funneled out excess rainwater back to where it belonged. Laundry lines attached from house to house, with Hanekans needlessly shouting at the top of their lungs to get another's attention. Unnecessary. His feathers flicked when a couple of young magickae tossed glyphs of water at each-other to cool off in the day with giggles and playfulness, but he had work to do. Out into the main street, he fell into distortion, a sprinkle of twilight stars as he moved through the overlap of planes. Onto the other side to duck into the dark of the alley, he kept his head low as others moved into storefronts. A calm, idyllic life, protected by the outer walls and the Storm Wardens.

Houses turned into marble architecture with wyverns wound themselves around pillars to breathe their flames into their peaks. Up to the lodge, past a couple of Storm Wardens who jumped at attention from their useless loitering, he unfurled the scrolls from his belt as he reached the board, posting them front and center.

"Yuv?" Maria's voice asked, and he looked over his shoulder when she left through the Infirmary doors, pulling along a cart of phials. She passed along her burden to another chirurgeon who left behind her, and he let his hands drop to his sides when she approached him.

Yuven nodded at her, but he had work to do. He whistled at the Warden at the entrance, who bustled over. "I want people who don't have any outstanding duties to take these routes for the foreseeable future. If there's any Trainees here, pair them up with an experienced Warden," he barked out his order. "Some of these routes are split by recent Derelict sightings. Be sure to switch up the guard shifts as they come and go. Understood?"

"Yes, Captain!" The Warden brought a hand up to their chest and hurried away to the barracks to send out the call.

He waited until they disappeared to turn to Maria in full. "Busy."

"Don't need to explain yourself, Yuven." Maria raised her hand. "I'm assuming Fenrer and Adara have left?"

"Yes. By my estimations, they should be back come this week's end. Give or take." His feathers pressed against his ears. I don't like it when my calculations are off — so if they're late for some asinine reason... He huffed, but tried to let the waves of stress leave through his shoulders. "I had an episode earlier," he whispered under his breath.

"Bad?" Maria asked without hesitation.

Yuven gave a slight twist of his head. "Not a flash... just an episode."

"Stardust?"

"Took it."

"Did you remember your medication this morning."

He nodded in confirmation, checking his moonwatch. "I'll take my next dose soon."

Her own shoulders relaxed. "Good. I know you've been under a lot of stress lately, what with this entire situation with the cult and your fight with Fenrer, but if you want my advice?" Maria touched his cheek with the tips of her fingers. "You'd be surprised at how solving one can also solve the other. You need Fenrer. You two need to get it together," she said, her tone steady but no less direct. "You want forgiveness from the mistakes you made, but most of all, you hold yourself to such an impossible standard, it's going to start slipping to the people closest to you, and Fenrer looks up to you, Yuven. Your opinion does matter to him, it always has."

"I don't see why." Maria gave him a punch in the shoulder, and he drew back with a purse of his lips. "What?"

"You two are family."

"Yes." Yuven rubbed his shoulder with a hiss, then considered her. "Why do Hanekans punch shoulders so much?"

"Depends on the context." Maria brushed her lips against his cheek. "If you had an episode earlier, you should get some rest. Let the stardust work through your system before you do anything else. I don't think you want to have a flash out in the marketplace and get possibly trampled — actually. I change that from advice to Healer's orders."

"You didn't even give me a chance to argue."

"Because I am also busy as much as I love 'arguing' with you." Maria clapped her hands together with a huff. "Go get some sleep, you." Her hand bumped underneath his ribcage, and he wriggled out of the tickle. "I know you've been lacking in that department since we got here. King Reyn isn't going anywhere." Her hand wrapped around his forearm. "I'll go up to the castle to keep an eye on him if you promise to get some shut-eye."

Yuven opened his mouth to argue, but he closed it when Maria raised an eyebrow. "Fine. At least here I can make sure the patrols get out timely then I will get some shuteye until tomorrow."

"I'll take that." Maria beamed, shining with the setting sun which shed fiery flakes through the windows along the dome. "Try not to stress yourself out too much, Yuven. Just relax." Her arms wrapped around his neck, and he savored the lover's touch of warmth almost stolen from him, drowning in crimson goo. He bumped his brow against hers, then let her go. Witnessing her departure, he headed down to the captain quarters, sending a hardened glyph into the general barracks to catch the attention of any on the other side before whisking himself out of view. Into the room he occupied, he sat himself at the desk to sort through any outstanding reports, relenting to simply sorting them into the stacks, marking them with ribbons. The moment the crushing of his skull made a return, he headed out of the office and into the bedroom proper.

His hands shook as he unbuckled his leather armor, setting it on a stand before doing the same with his weapons. Out of its weight, he swiped some evening clothes to replace what protected him from his vulnerabilities. Left bare, he hugged himself, heading to the blinds to throw them closed from the call of the harbor. On the bed, he allowed himself a single yawn, his fangs slipping past his lips. Silent. Alone with only his grievous faults for company. No work to distract him. Just himself. He sat cross-legged on the bed, waiting for darkness to descend until he jostled a capsule out of his nighttime phial, slipping it between his teeth to swallow. A tasteless endeavor — a vast improvement from the compost of his previous liquid medication.

Bells tolled.

But what am I supposed to do? If I rest, this cult gains more ground. Irimount. Azahama... and then Miesero's posting that he refuses to elaborate on more than it's connected. Yuven bounced his fingers against his burning temple. It all started at Irimount, didn't it? Waking up Evyriaz from his slumber... are they doing the same thing here? No, that doesn't make sense. Yuven sat cross-legged, sliding his fangs over his lips to chew at them in thought. Something isn't adding up. All I know for sure is the Burning Abyss will be taking the brunt of all the dark energies seeping into the land, bleeding into the Goliath at the bottom... how large has that thing grown since we sent that thing into its depths? It would take a veritable army of Storm Wardens to kill it — and the last time they tried all they could do was delay it from the books he read. He pinched his lip. And I can't trust everyone else to be on alert if I don't kick and drag them to that, but there's nothing I can do about the gorge, that's the Warden-Commander's ruling. Nonetheless, he made a note to himself to get a continental map to take a look at the situation for himself. So many things rested on his shoulders, and he refused to make the same mistakes again.

And the first step is getting King Reyn to leave. To go to Euros where we can protect him better. If he goes to Euros, the cult won't be able to reach him there. It won't matter if they get the Naveeran monarch's blood if they can't get his. It should be simple. Monarchs will always choose self-preservation. It's the only way they hold power, throw people as fodder so they can stay safe behind their walls. As much as the thought annoyed him, in the current state of affairs he'd use it to his advantage.

Those thoughts bounced around in his squeezing head as he ducked underneath the covers at the sight of moonlight peeking through the blinds. Into slumber, he tried not to drown in the visceral lake, where a white-feathered wyvern clawed its way to the surface and tried to break it to breathe life, getting trapped underneath the thick layer of ice as it gave a silent scream for its freedom.