Knights of Anathaeum Spectres in the Hold

[Faramund]

The dawnling stalked the halls after Saskia, always one step behind despite the distance she tried to put between them. 'Moving, moving!' Walking as if he knew where they were going, Faramund hurried onwards, upwards. Dunhold was a maze of shadowy halls and dark spiral staircases. Luckily for him, the shadows were Saskia's domain.

'You, uh... have any idea what to expect?' He asked, cursing as he bumped his head on a door lintel. The blonde knight bobbed along ahead of him, ignorant of his pain... or just not giving a fuck.

Saskia Kerraelas

 

[Saskia Kerraelas]

She was no longer present in the halls, nor did she truly hear Faramund.

Saskia's eyes saw darkness, the shadow see drowning the shadowed knight.

Her being would still be moving, searching, but her own wits was lost to the darkness she had been listening to. Saskia heard the bells, could picture them as they twinkled lightly a slight melody she once heard when tied to Farren's braid. Frantic, her heart raced. Determination not to be searching blindly for long, Saskia's hand seemingly reached forward, in reality grasping the cold air.

Her eyes began to return to amber, no longer smothered by thick plumes of shadow. Out of the very thin air, Kerraelas's hand curled around something, bringing it towards her and upon opening her fist, the same melodic twinkling could be heard. She turned to Faramund, frowning deeply. Disturbed by how she now became in possession of what she had been seeking.

"I...." She was stunned, unable to formulate a likely summation of his this came to be as she had never taken something from the shadows. They had always moved for her, presenting her with the physical thing she would be looking for, but to see it in her mind? To know how to pluck it from it's current location to manifest it straight to her hands?

Faramund

 

[Farren Lóthlindor]

After the Squire had escorted her back to her bed, Farren crawled under the covers, hissing through her teeth at muscles that screamed their protest at the abuse and left her barely able to wave and nod her thanks at Reynald's exiting form. Finally resting against the headboard and sighing deeply.

But she wasn't alone just yet. Peeking through one closed eye, Farren could see that Aarno still lingered near her bed, seemingly lost at what to do next. His expression made her realize that she very much did not want to be alone right now.

Gingerly, she reached out and captured the trunk of his wrist, her thumb absently brushing against his pulse. "Will you stay?" And in effort to assuage any hesitation on his part, added, "Please."

Aarno

 

[Aarno]

There was no sign of Syr Faramund in the infirmary, ending him with the conclusion the man had gone a bit further on his quest than intended. Or perhaps forfeit it altogether and ‘gone for a drink’ instead, as he fancied joking about on the regular.

Some months ago, Aarno might’ve yet taken that as a likely option, perhaps even hissed it out loud. Now, he wasn’t so sure anymore, cursed by a depth of experience to having an amount of faith when it came to that one particular Dawn knight. Hovering with indecision, he gave a huff and scanned the space for any which wanton detail to latch onto, a direction to go from here.

To maybe help— something— She had looked so distraught there wasn’t possibly a way he couldn’t—

The intention had only half-formed when it was promptly stricken through, a touch seizing him by the wrist. He flinched to attention, brows arched as his stare moored upon Farren, the words inspiring equally surprise as they did relief. Both were clear upon his face, slowly melting away to calm approval as he nodded, clasping her hand within his.

“ Sure, I’ll stay. The search party has clearly ran off and in interest of time and success, we’re most like better off waiting here, letting him find us in turn. “

Releasing her, he shuffled a little to hook his foot around the leg of a nearby stool, pulling it closer. Once it was settled to the immediate vicinity of her bed, he sat down on it, movements careful against the sting in his side. He deflated gradually therein, hunching against elbows as his arms folded against his chest, chin sinking into the wrap about his shoulders. The warmth begun transmuting all to lead as he sat, from his eyelids to his breath.

“ Pardon me— It appears I— Am not very lively company. “ He struggled out, glancing at her in passing, trying a smile.

“ Seems as the cold was the lone thing keeping me properly awake. So should I go out of a sudden, be assured it is not due yourself at all. “

Farren Lóthlindor

 

[Faramund]

Silent, Faramund watched the shadows withdraw. Somehow, for whatever reason, his sabre had found its way to his hand. In response to a threat that wasn't real perhaps? Or rather... one that no longer existed. What the fuck was that? He asked himself, mind groggily piecing together the puzzle laid before him. One moment he had been following Saskia through the echoing halls.

The next... darkness.

And shadows, he thought, returning his weapon to its scabbard clumsily. He could feel traces of some untold magic prickling his skin, making his hairs stand on end. 'I...' Saskia's voice shook as she tried to make sense of the senseless. He could see confusion in her eyes, and perhaps a bit of fear.

'You...?' Calmly, the big dawnling reached out to pry the silver bells from Saskia's hand. Her skin was deathly cold, her visage pale. 'We should probably be getting back to the ward, now.' It wasn't a suggestion.

Pocketing the jingling bells, the colourful ribbons soft to the touch, Faramund hooked an arm under Saskia's in support.

'Don't s'pose you have any idea what just happened, do you?' He asked, worried for his sister-knight. 'Figure that was a first time for you. As it so happens, that was a first for me, too.' Smiling, Faramund plucked a torch from the wall. Never can be too careful.

Saskia Kerraelas Farren Lóthlindor

 

[Saskia Kerraelas]

There was a disappointment to be felt within her, a loss of understanding as the shadows and darkness were not the familiar strangers she had come to know since she was a young squire. Not her own extension of her magic, or even that of the Pursuit of Loch or Death. It had been something else, causing her to frown and puzzle over what had happened.

It was Faramund that brought her back to the light.

Her puzzled face stared at him, seeing the concern on his face as he spoke about returning to the ward. "No!" Just like that, the stubbornness darkened her expression as she stared up at him defiantly. "I am not going back there! I have had enough of the slop they call dinner." Saskia left out the tidbit about the patient down the row from her that spoke in his sleep, and how it reminded her of an elderly person on the precipice of death and how she was sure he was a ghost given how no one else seemed to complain!

Even as her protests went unheard, Faramund tucking her arm with his as he steered her back the way they came. She could not recognise where they had wandered off to, but she trusted the great oaf to remember the way back to her prison.

She half regretted that thought as he asked her about the darkness.

"Afraid of the dark, Syr Fara?" She snorted at the torch lighting the hall before them, but her half-hearted smirk turned lifeless before settling with worry for the unknown. "I cannot seem to figure out if I had casted a spell of Death... or if my natural wielding of the shadows has much more for me to learn." As a squire, every monster she thought that lived in the shadows had turned a friend, and now, there was that tentative fear of the darkness... of herself.

No, what she was capable of.

"Yes, that surely must be it." She was quick to assure Faramund, plastering the falsest smile on her face as she fixed her gaze forward. All was fine! No need to hurry her back to her lonely cot in the cold medical ward... "But promise me that I get to see Farren's ribbon and bells returned to her. I miss seeing the faces of our friends." Our. Saskia was crafty using that word as a gentle plead to the kind Syr beside her to allow her a brief socialising.

Faramund Farren Lóthlindor Aarno

 

[Faramund]

'Afraid of what hides in it.' Faramund answered tonelessly. No stranger to strangeness himself, he did not jump to conclusions like some of his brethren were prone to do. But then discretion was the better part of valour. 'No need to lie to me, Syr,' he continued, finding Saskia's fake smile eerily familiar.

My fault, he thought, remembering all the times he had hidden his true feelings behind an expression just like hers. Though he had to admit, a smile suited her better.

But the lying? No. No, that was his shtick.

'You don't know what happened back there, and that concerns me. It concerns you, too!' He pointed out, turning from the torchlit hallway to look the dusker in the eye. 'Magic is a tool,' he said, 'a weapon to be wielded with care. For it cuts both ways, though one sometimes forgets.' More, it could be taken from you, turned against you. Faramund did not wish that for Saskia.

So young and full of life. How long before the world took her optimism and turned it to ash? How long before her "shadows" showed her who was really in control?

'Just... be careful!' He pleaded, boots clicking against stone as they started to descend. 'Whatever happened back there was no illusion. It was very real, and very much dangerous.' Frowning, Faramund shrugged, turned his attention back to the steps. Saskia was no novice. She knew what he meant, just as she knew it never hurt to be reminded now and then.

Stumbling back into the hospital ward, chilled and slightly out of breath, Faramund escorted the reluctant knight back to her bed. The burly nurse had a look on her face that would have curdled milk. Faramund certainly felt himself shrivel under her gaze.

'Why, if it isn't Syrs Aarno and Farren,' he grinned, letting go of Saskia's arm only after she had sat down. 'How's things? Much to report?' He tucked Saskia in, much to the nurse's annoyance.

The bells tinkled softly in his pocket as he took up a chair. Faramund pretended not to hear.

Farren Lóthlindor Aarno Saskia Kerraelas