#dok.starter

Lounging in a curtained stone alcove, leg dangling off the edge and long-fingered hand curled around a crystalline goblet, Seth's dark eyes perused through the crowd, seeking out familiar faces in the throng. He had never been so far out of Umbra and, privately, it sent him a bit off balance. A figure came towards him and the prince raised a brow, voice a lazy drawl as he gestured toward the people spread out around them.

THE NOISE OF VOICES AND MUSIC filled the air as the party went on around Victor Laurel. King Erik’s trusted Advisor stood to the side of the room by himself drinking slowly from a ornate glass of wine as he watched the festivities around him. After the voice had spoken, the party had resumed almost shakily, but now it seemed like people were becoming more comfortable and beginning to relax. However, those pleasures did not extend to the Lord of Blackwood. He was tense as always and the large crowd did not help his demeanor. Though he greeted everyone politely, he truly longed for the woods outside and the feeling of being alone. 

But he was trying, attempting to show his support for the union between the two kingdoms through the marriage. Besides, William was a friend of his and if he was willing to be among the crowd then the Advisor would do the same. Another sip from the wine and his eyes carefully watched the crowd, weighing the pros and cons of everything and nothing at the same time. He needed a distraction, to stop his thoughts, but he was not willing to get drunk.

“Well, don’t they say that when it rains on a wedding day, it’s bad luck for the day, good luck for the rest of the marriage? If that and what happened today is anything to go by, Queen Daphne and I will have a very happy life together.” Was he trying too hard to make up for the shadows that had stolen the spotlight (ironically) at the feast? Perhaps. But William also did what others needed, and currently they needed someone to put on a brave face. So he was determinedly cheerful and cheerfully determined to be so. The Shadows would not win, not today, and not ever.  

“Any more words of wisdom for a newly married man?” 

He was seated somewhere in the back of the room, enjoying solitude that came after his latest conversational partner had left to go dancing with his wife. Maybe he should dance with Stella, but lately their marriage had been worse than ever, so he was more than happy to keep her out of sight - so long as she didn’t openly embarrass him, he was fine with whatever she did. While once he wouldn’t have cared much about appearances and how his behaviour reflected on his kingdom, now he knew better and so he refrained from asking his mistress to join him for a dance. Well, he could always dance with Alina, if he felt like dancing.

But, when a person approached him, Ethan’s lips drew into a smile, greeting them in a friendly tone and patting an empty chair beside him. “Come, join me for a drink. It’s not that fun to drink by oneself.”

October 29, 299 AR Noctifera

Elinor knew that she would be postponing her training on the morrow. It was already near dawn and she had not been to bed yet. Swept up in the intrigue and festivities, as well as the intriguing Noctifera, Elinor had been spending time both with the guests and alone, wandering the palace. She was not prying, but was instead meandering along, the alcohol in her blood a companion that kept her warm and loose. She was curious about this kingdom, arguably Marya’s greatest enemy and rival.

So far, they had been gracious hosts. Elinor could give the Voice credit for that at least. It had been wrong, completely wrong. The Kingdoms were more at peace than they had ever been, and a truer peace than simple amicability. Than the false smiles that hid poisoned thoughts and looks that could kill. Elinor would not go so far as to thank the Voice that had cast the shadow over King William and Queen Daphne’s wedding, but the cordiality between kingdoms was at least a silver lining. 

The lightness starting to leave Lady Drago’s step was the first indication that something might be wrong. She put it down to tiredness, exhaustion finally overcoming the alcohol she had imbibed. She was not drunk by any means, but had maintained a pleasant warm, fizzy, bubbly feeling throughout the night. It had allowed her to stay in company without feeling awkward or withdrawing. She had to represent her kingdom after all, and show Marya’s good side to Noctifera. She never forgot her responsibility to her kingdom and her people. 

That responsibility, and her ties to both the land and the people were what made Elinor cry out, suddenly. A sharp, tormented cry that caught even her by surprise as it tore from her throat and past her lips. She heard variations of the same cry, but as if from a distance as her ears buzzed. One hand had a death grip on her near empty goblet as Elinor tried to control herself, the other pressed against the stone of the hallway she found herself in. She managed to keep her balance, barely, and tried to stop the scream that had escaped her without permission or even forethought. 

It was as if something had burst through her body, something dark and evil. It burned and tore through her, so that Elinor was half expecting to look down and see a hole in her stomach or chest. Echoes of her own scream rang in her ears, different pitches and voices, coming from different throats. And they all cut off at the same time, leaving a silence that rang equally as loud in Elinor’s ears. 

She gasped for breath, fury and fear running through her in equal measures. Her body shook. When she looked up, it was to meet the eyes of another. If Elinor were prone to blushing, she would have done so, but as it was, she was instead deathly pale. 

“Fabulous gathering, wouldn’t you say? I haven’t seen this many people in a room since... Well, ever, to be fair. The Five are coming in rather nicely, don’t you think? Now that there are no more secrets, with Mordu coming in so spectacularly.” Roslyn chatted, fixing her stare at the crowd, trying to make out the king and queen of Mordu through the masks, but she was none the wiser. “Nice mask.” She added and turned to her companion.

Picking up a goblet of wine, the Queen smiled darkly to herself, concealing the smirk behind the silver goblet as she took a sip of the bloodred liquid. Tabea observed the people with dark amusement shining in her eyes, but when she felt presence beside her, her expression shifted momentarily into something timid and, how sweet, terrified. “Our poor Kings. I can’t imagine how he feels right now. It’s his birthday, don’t these things have any regard? This was supposed to be a happy occasion, wasn’t it?” She spoke, the very personification of sadness and sympathy.

She was not one of those people, only because she refused to allow some annoying Voice without a body to ruin her good mood. It was a wedding and had it not have been for the “ominous warning”, it would have been a damn good one. But, someone whom no one could see had made an effort to terrify them all and, to be loud and clear, she was having none of it. If no one could see it, then why did they fear it? Thin air cannot hurt anyone so what is all the fuss and muss about?

Honestly.

Someone (a poor soul) was seated beside her, harbouring the same solemn look everyone had shared, adopting is as a default expression it would seem. Elis turned her head to observe the person briefly, eyes squinting suspiciously. Whatever the Voice was and implied made the people weary, wary and all other things connected to worry, and she would have none of it.

And so, Gods save everyone around her, she spoke. “Hypothetically speaking, if there was an assassin at the table right now poisoning someone’s cup, do you think it would be translated as something influenced by the Voice or a prior commitment? Because with all this glum mood around me, I am beginning to wish for someone to poison me.”