#araceli 003.

Araceli seemed distant, withdrawn, the very antithesis to the bold woman Celaya had come to recall. The noblewoman of Aventia would normally be seen as to taking charge in moments as this, especially as those liberated attempted to break down whatever mystical barrier remained in their way. On the third day, Celaya spoke to her, walking up to Araceli who'd been tucked away within a corner of the ship, "I think it wise we all work together." Translation: your mind could be useful when it comes to this. Celaya wasn't sure what truly could be affecting the noblewoman, what she could have been forced to endure or act out, what trouble she was meant to conspire within those captured; they were freed now, somewhat, and they needed all hands on deck.

Many did not wish to go up against her for a rematch, and sullen losers dispersed, mingling about the tavern as Celaya pocketed the gold pieces as her winnings. She had not seen the faiman approach, but Celaya bristled lightly as she noted Araceli in the corner of her eye, "I'm sorry for your home." Celaya had fought tooth and nail for Araceli's home and in the end, they could only watch as it burnt to cinders, reclaimed by darkspawn. "For a time, it housed me too." But it never felt like home despite.