destroy what destroys you ;

“You talk about him as if you’re speaking of the dead,” Freydis said softly. Ithelia was not as such–too clever and cunning to be concerned about such a fate. The creature seemed like something eternal despite the odds in a world that had so recently proven itself as lethal. “I hope to see him too,” she said warmly, “but I have summoned another as the fey guardian of this circle and my companion.” From the edge of the woods, Alessia might see the Warden stir slightly, great swaths of cascading vines swaying slightly and sending a shower of petals through the dappled light. “I believe you’ve met. But I don’t know what you’ve come for,” she said, lifting her arms and extending her hands toward Alessia in eager greeting. 

"I'm not surprised he stuck around; you were very good to him." Surprisingly, the words weren't said with jest. "I've come just to see if this was all settling well for you. I'll check in a few more times before I go; I won't be sticking around." She gazed around at the forest, a pang of guilt sitting in her chest and likely belonged to the little girl inside her. That little girl had once wanted nothing more than to trails around Iskaran woods with twigs in her hair, and a horse beneath her. "At least not for a while." She mustered up a characteristic grin and shrugged. "I've got my own jobs to do."

She looked at the dancing forms of luminescent blue and red, orange and yellow embers appeared from the flames, and Alessia was almost mesmerized. The sparks tantalized in the night sky, and coiled smoke over the drifting ships in the water. She'd let them burn. She knew why it was. The mourners had gathered to bid good-bye to their countrymen, those whose bodies had been recovered and those who never would be found again. Iskaldrik would be mourning every day for years, for generations.

But Alessia had not come to share in the collective grief; she did not mourn before flames that were so alike to the ones that consumed her father's body without his family's consent. She had come to find a friend, Luna's brief presence offering more warmth than the fires ever could. "Ready to go home to the forests, Legionnaire, or do you have more monsters to fight?"

She was not surprised to see Alessia here, she refused to lose her in the return and in changing tides, she needed her friend to navigate the new world with and ensure that the old world order would never return. A sideways smile like a crescent moon tugs at her lips. “I can never leave the Legion, I can leave the keep though.” punctuated by a wink. “I’ve missed the Ironwood forest more than I could bare, let’s go home.”

She came forward an offered an arm for the other to take. They'd whisk away from this place of sadness and mourning. "I'm hanging about a month or two, depending how long it takes for my brother to get settled down. I think that'll be enough time to finally see the fabled Ironwood Forests for myself."

“Very much so yes,” she says, wondering if she hadn’t made that part of her personality noticeable enough or if that was just meant to be a joke of a sort. Regardless, she welcomes the other’s presence, as she has been meaning to catch up since their trip to Iskaldrik. “I am assuming the boxes have something to do with that question?”

"You know I really hate Iskaran royalty, yes? Well, actually, I don't know if I ever told you, but it should be obvious. I mean," she scoffed out a laugh, "you probably do to if you have any sense. The both of us got locked up down there in the mines." Alessia cleared her throat. "Anyway, I found a few things from Iskaran history that might interest you. Books, and maps and tomes and a bunch of dusty artifacts that they just had out there... laying around..." It would be up to Nuvi to assume if Alessia had stolen from the royal palace (dusty and relatively unguarded at the time), from now dead nobility, or maybe both. Or maybe neither, and she was completely innocent.

"You can send them back, if you want. Or sell 'em. I don't care what you do with them. Just... think of it as late payment from Iskaldrik, orrrr compensation."

he landed, with a thump, feeling his sister's arms around him a moment later. a chill from above still holding to him while another wrapped itself around alessia still. alrik shivered, then embraced her warmly.

"winter in lysara spoiled us." alrik complained. it was unlike him to be so contemptuous of the cold, but he'd grown accustomed to the sort of luxuries that he and alessia were denied for most of their lives. even as kids they'd never gone hungry, but life was as hard and as brutal as every other iskaran who called the south their home. it took a stubborn breed. lysara had comfortable work, more gold than he'd ever spend, warm fires, a good-quality and soft bed. alrik's stomach was softer now than when they'd started this, but victory looked good on him in the wake of the resignation he'd taken to before.

“I like my forge.” quick, sharp, but lighthearted. “i'll take an apprentice, or a few. someone to mind it and the shop while we're off.” because there would never be one without the other; they had names to hunt down. the present was secured, the harts would attend to the future as well. “and there are much worse things you could tell to your future nieces and nephews about me.”

"Oh, yes," Alessia agreed without some of her usual bite or humour. "Though, unfortunately, we have a rather entangled reputation." Her teasing was weak-willed that night, softened by tiredness and affection. Affection for her brother, surely, but just as much for the pale landscape now mirrored in her eyes. Distance had made the heart grow fonder, and also the acceptance she would not grow roots into this though soil any time soon. Their people, with Alrik, would begin physically rebuilding and she could not contribute much there. Her last act of solemn patriotism was scowling at the new King - warning him to be better than his bloodline through the wordless, unmagical psychic energy of manifestation. And he hadn't even seen her do it, so...

Alessia had unspoken pride and faith in Alrik's forge; she smiled just thinking of feeling the warmth of the flames and the vibrations of banging metal again. "An apprenticeship won't be hard to find, I'm sure. Try to make sure they're stupid enough they don't question you, and ugly enough you don't want to fuck them. I grow weary of all you people and your spring behavior. You, Freydis, Lother and Prospero..." There was an overly dramatic sigh, and she rested her head against her brother's arm.

Then, in the quiet, sat a brief moment of pause; it was that expectant silence where Alessia built her courage carefully like a cairn. She didn't look at Alrik, but she pulled her head away from his shoulder. "Speaking of the latter... I'm not here long enough we can keep ignoring the elephant in the room, much as I'd like to." Darkfriends, everywhere, they were now deadmen walking. The Lysaran Queen was one thing, but then the fact Prospero had been entangled in this from the beginning - much to their ignorance.

One foot slides back as Alessia pushes her away, and Valdís takes the time to weave away until she is closer to her opponent's left side, a smirk firm in place as she does. 

“Nothing is ever that easy, is it?” She sighs dramatically, eyes firm in Alessia even as she is noting the flickering movements of her eyes. From what she is seen, the other is too experienced to make such an amateur mistake so she doesn’t fall prey to the provocations, taking the time to fall into a defensive position instead, daggers up as she waits for the other to continue their dance. 

Their blades clash, and Valdís lets out a breathless laugh before swiping away once more, her feet lashing out to try and force Alessia to stumble as she retreats.

“I have a handful, yes, and I am ensuring they are prepared for what is to come,” she says, giving just enough detail to satisfy. While she is away at the Tower, she had made it clear she expects her Armada to keep up with their training. If they are to see further Dreadnoughts in their waters, she will make sure Ran’s Armada comes out victoriously each encounter. 

She could appreciate that her fellow witch was also holding back on her magic, so the two of them could focus on their physicality instead of spells. Valdís was also clearly a skilled, knowing opponent - and cunning. It fared better for Alessia's health to fight like this, and made it quite clear where she was still weak from the ship. Her legs did not feel as quick and graceful as before, though her skinnier arms still swung powerfully and with precision. Valdís aggression egged her on and the younger witch briefly left the comfort of defense to go on the offense. "Just saying that-" Clang. "there's no preparing people-" Clang. "for destruction." They pressed closely upon each other, the clashing of metal upon metal resounding like the notes of a bell, and Alessia grit her teeth which were all bared like a silent growl.

Finally, her breath was tight in her chest, and she was forced to try and direct it through her mouth in even, silent breathes while her chest rose and fell with force. The smart thing to do would have been to jump back and catch her breath. But as this was not life and death, and Alessia was far more reckless than she was smart, the witch doubled down on her strikes. "Did they train you this well?" She asked, both their blades up against each other; she could feel the other's hot breath on her face, and surely Valdís felt her's too.

Raven needed to be somewhere that she couldn't be perceived as easily, she was good at going undetected and bleeding into the background. She was a rogue but she missed her cloak of invisibility and even if the crowd was full of strangers, the land knew her and she had lived through much upon it's ground. She had stepped into the veil and it had pulled out her soul and all the dark parts that she had tried to hide, Avalon was dying, she had pissed off a dragon and her hands felt more empty than ever. The wilds might serve as a distraction along with the hot stew that they served in Haven. The invisible barrier that seperated Iskaldrik from Eterna rippled for a quick moment but it was enough for the halfblood elvhen to track. "Did you see that?" Another was next to her that she vaguely recognized from their treacherous journey here.

But the unexpected sight at the flickering magical border roused her, and kept her from realizing the body that had been near her the entire time - and was now beside her. Alessia jumped slightly, hand instinctively going for her waist daggers before she stopped. "You... you saw that too?" So, it wasn't a manifestation of Alessia's own nostalgia and trauma? Good and bad news. "Fuck," she whispered. She gazed back at where they'd both seen the flicker, not yet gaining any recognition for the woman beside her - she was too focused on the border. "... That's the border to Iskaldrik. The Witchers- they closed it."

Her hazel eyes rolled at Alessia’s insistence on being a nuisance about the fact Freydis had attached herself to someone. Freydis forged a bond with nearly every sentient being that crossed her path and she had long wished for a deeper sort of companionship, though she believed with every fiber of her beings that soulmates came in every form of relationship. She hoped they came by the dozen as well. Certainly she and Alessia held a bond that defied the boundaries of their corporeal shape by way of duty, shared experience, and affection. 

“The healer sounds quite wise, your vegetables are quite important,” Freydis mothered. 

Alessia’s comment on earning a bit of vacation was met with a shrug. “I would argue that I’ll sleep when I’m dead, but given our unfortunate attachment to a certain Arch Fey, I believe that joke would be in rather poor taste,” Freydis ribbed, though there was truth to the statement. She immediately sobered when Alessia spoke of her likely assignment in the South. “It eats at me that I haven’t already moved that way,” Freydis admitted quietly. “I feel like I’m betraying myself… my purpose and duty.” But it was too soon, she knew she had not regained her strength yet. She looked at Alessia, serious and determined as ever. “What do you think you’ll find in the south? What have they warned you of?” 

"Lots of darkspawn," she replied passively, nonchalantly. "Nothing we both haven't seen a lot of before, and nothing I haven't fought before." Alessia thought of her time in the Mountain before she thought of their mutual underground Hel, but a deadly secret was a deadly secret. "Plus, I'll be surrounded by comrades with the same orders. I chose The Tower, it's different from you. And did I ever mention I'm half Lysaran?" She frowned thoughtfully, realizing she had probably not, but moved on without much care of it. "So, even if your purpose and duty right now was fighting darkspawn for The Tower or country, you can't pour out of an empty glass, as the druids say. Or the elves say. Or... I don't know, hippie humans. Someone said that. Point is, you've got an empty glass so fill it up before you get excessively heroic again. I technically have no choice, even if I didn't want to go." She did. Alessia held no strong loyalty to The Tower, but enough gratitude and enough will to fight that she had no trouble obeying this time.

There was a loud and ominous meow, echoing from around the forest... or was it the sky? A cat called for Alessia to wake up, likely because he was hungry again.

Freydis knew that Alessia was right, but she felt the least Fate owed them was a small break, even only if it was within this dreaming territory they occupied. “Bold of you to assume he’s sweet,” Freydis grunted. But she cast Alessia a skeptical gaze a few moments later. “The great witch of her age who survived kidnapping and infection at the hands of Darkspawn, traversed the Veil, survived a Dream’s Genasi’s utterance of death, proved the entire Tower wrong evading death in a dozen other ways in between is telling me she was taken out by a fever? I don’t believe it.” 

Bold of you to assume he's sweet. If this had been any other woman, Alessia would have crinkled her nose in distaste. But, as it was Jarl Icefang who had never willingly suffered a disrespectful male in her life, her grin only widened at the innuendo her friend most certainly did not make. Though the playful jab at her constitution made Alessia roll her eyes, good-natured. "I told the healer the same thing and he just told me I'm not a God and I still need to eat my veggies. Dull."

As the question leaves her lip, she feints to the left with one arm moving to strike with one of her daggers, before twirling around and aiming for the right at the last moment. 

“It had been less of a headache, yes,” she agrees as she pushes her weight forward, hoping to catch her by surprise. 

"No extra evil thoughts are nice," she says, jolting back to put space between them. "I definitely don't think it's over though." Alessia played the coy look, the small flick of her lips turned upward to distract from her probing glances and strategy. "What's that thing they say about the calm before the storm?" Now, within the Tower, Alessia was far more privy to the events happening outside the narrow orbit of her personal life. From the druids to the elvhen to Astoria... shit sucked. All evidence pointed to continual and growing suck.

Alessia lunged, parrying with Valdis in a purposeful manner, testing opponent's reaction timing and limb preferences as their blades met. The dance made for hot blood and aching muscles by the time one of them jumped back and gambled for a breather. "We're in this together now... Tower witches, and all. What about your life and people outside of here?" Surely the woman made a living for herself before this, and had a circle of people she was leaving behind. Alessia had had none - Iskaldrik had been taken from her.

"You are responsible for nothing that happened on this ship," she murmured, pushing away her hypocrisy. She truly believed no blame should be placed on Luna's shoulder's. But when there was already so much blame on Alessia's, what was just a little more? Therein lay the differences in the characters of the two women; Alessia was not a kind, pure soul.

There was a long moment of silence, Luna's words squeezing her heart and melting some of the chill she still felt. They would be dying soon anyway - the two of them. At this point, Alessia held little to no hope that they would be escaping this ship in one piece after the explosion came. Her pride was swallowed down. She embraced Luna briefly, holding her with the strength of all her unspoken good-byes, hoping it would be enough to convey her appreciation and her affection. She did not have the strength to give more. If she spoke, she feared the truth of her words and impending dread. Alessia did not look at Luna again, and turned to walk away.

The hug is brief but steadfast, for a moment, two hearts that adored each other dearly carved a moment out in a sinking ship. Luna prayed to all who would listen that her and Alessia would have a chance to dish about the further recieved trauma aboard the Dreadnaught but first they had to live, they had to fight and they had to swim for their lives.

The Kossith would not go down easy but Luna wasn't looking for an easy fight after all she had endured, she wanted to cause great pain to them. It caused her sorrow splitting with Alessia, she would have preferred to fight by her side, secure in the knowledge that Alessia was alive and breathing but she had to cling to the hope she would see her again as her dark hair disappeared down the hall.

Sylvie scanned the surrounding woods for anything that might double as a chair, bright blue eyes eventually landing on a stump a few feet away. It wouldn't make the most comfortable seat, but perhaps Sylvie could find Alessia a new one once she was less dizzy. The blonde could maybe carry her, if she tried hard enough - perhaps harnessed some of her infernal strength - but she'd sworn off using her powers after the Kossith had tainted them even further.

"This way! Nice and easy, darling." Slow and steady, Sylvie guided the Witch to the nearest stump, one girl clinging to the other as they crunched through the snow. Gently, she helped Alessia sit down, making sure she was stable before finally removing her touch. Sylvie was somewhat of a healer herself, but again, was too scared to even attempt to channel the One God after the atrocities she'd committed in the Kossith's name, lest her pleads go unanswered.

However, a good school teacher always had a backup plan for any ailments - bumps, bruises, scrapes, fevers. The idea set her in motion quickly, as she took off her scarf and began piling snow into the soft fabric. Once she had enough, she returned to Alessia's side, and carefully the packed scarf against her forehead. "Ice packs can fix almost anything, as long as you think it's working." Usually the placebo was more effective on toddler brains than well developed ones.

Alessia was silent for a while. It was neither her choice nor her preference, but the brief earthly spin of her vision had made the witch's gut roil like a bad potion. She swallowed down nausea and tried to blink away tiredness as she was led away. Some of Sylvie's words had registered, though not all of them. Alessia simply relented to the other's needed care as as she was supported toward a pile of barrels. She sat down on one, comfortable enough, and was tempted to lean back on another. But this was embarrassing already as it was.

"Lemon," she muttered, taking the make-shift ice pack. Alessia placed it on her forehead and shut her eyes briefly. Anyone might have thought the fever was getting to her head when she didn't bother elaborating her context. If Sylvie questioned it, it went ignored until Alessia finally felt the coolness of the icepack seep further into her skin and give her some real comfort. "It's lemon squeezy," she finally elaborated, voice rasping.