November 30 - Day 5 Strange

Hearing the Call was always one of the most unnerving things. Her whole body stilled as Eyir plucked at the thread that connected them, and the summons resonated throughout her whole being. 

Ash laughed raucously and splashed in the bath within reach, but for a moment she couldn’t move — frozen in place. 

It released her as quick as it had washed over, and Lyn bit her tongue before she could swear. 

‘Champion, to me with haste!’

“Mama, do you know where my boat is?” 

She was going to have a headache later. Ash was passed his boat as she plucked that thread right back, ‘My son is in the bath, the shieldmaidens will get to you faster. What’s wrong?’

‘A Dragon is here for Odyn, we must-’ 

Lyn couldn’t help the laugh that tore from her mouth, ‘You’d be better off letting the Dragon have him.’ 

Ash stared up at her, perplexed, “Mama?” 

She shook her head and glanced back down at him; it must have seemed strange, the way she was staring off at nothing. He couldn’t hear the Keeper trying to summon her, after all. 

‘...All is well.’ 

Lyn reached down and flicked some of the water back at her son with a bright smile, “What are the pirates up to today, then?” 

Reassured, and with focus back again, he slammed the carved boat down into the water and prepared to launch into his rambling tale.

((Mentioned: @gloamingdawn, @valarin-sunstorm, @dicenne))

Normally the subtle rocking of the ship and the small crashes of the tide beckoning the creaking wooden frame would bring comfort. It meant he was home, even if home was always moving, reeked of cigarette smoke, and involved sleeping in the most uncomfortable hammock ever. Lately it was feeling different, though. Iestyn had made friends ashore, however dubious the word ‘friend’ was to in his vernacular. “People he liked being around” would be a more accurate term.

He had attended Owl Fest, a two-day long art and music fair hosted by familiar faces. It was a risk to go at all, he knew that. He knew she would be there. Still, he didn’t want to miss everything. They meant more to him than that. Or, no, it wasn’t that they meant anything to him. It was that he thought it would be fun. He had nothing better to do that day, anyways… He shook his head, looking out the porthole beside his hammock. He could stop visiting altogether if it came to that. It wouldn’t bother him any. He rolled over.

Laraeline had been there. It was the first time he had seen her since that awkward encounter. Best to pretend none of that ever happened, wasn’t it? Iestyn made plenty of mistakes in who to trust before. He just had to stop getting ahead of himself. Either way, getting her covered in glitter was a great way to break the tension, even if it came with… consequences. The thief’s jacket sparkled every time one of the damned flecks caught the sunlight, even days later.

Speaking of such, Iestyn had a growing feeling that Lynesse was considerably less amused by his shenanigans than others. There were a few hints here and there: her reluctance to accept the hit he had put on Laraeline until knowing the full story (where was the fun in that?) and the downright exuberance she displayed in burying him in glitter (above and beyond the call of duty. She had even glittered him once as an “example” without being paid!) Still, Iestyn supposed for the times Em wasn’t around it was good to have someone keeping him in check. Light knew what trouble he could get into with no one acting as his conscience. He laughed to himself.

He couldn’t really hold anything against Lyn, he definitely deserved the punishment he got twenty times over. Besides, he would do about anything for a laugh and it amused the hell out of Valarin. It was nice to see the lad again, too. Their last encounter ended Iestyn with a concussion, and… he had said something to upset him. Couldn’t rightly remember what it was at this point, but he realized the priest had something haunting him, just like he did. The thought upset him more than it should, really, at least Iestyn deserved his nightmares. Val deserved peace. In lieu of that, he could give him a few laughs here and there.

Iestyn wondered if it was obvious to Dicenne that he was missing his performances on purpose. He was, what, four for four now? His absence was becoming noticeable, it seemed. People were starting to come up to the thief and describe what he had missed out on or even brag about being there when he wasn’t. He ran a hand through his hair, looking towards the ceiling of the cabin, now. The performer had been busy on his comm again, talking to his sister throughout the festival. Maybe he should just talk to him. If anyone would understand—

He laughed. Good one. Why would the thief tell anyone anything? The more people knew about him, the more they could use it against him. He had far too many enemies for that.

May 24 - Day 4 Boundaries / Doubt

Lyn turned the elegant invitation over in her hands, reading and re-reading the details provided. It had been some years since she’d been active in society, for the best of reasons, but Vixannya had given her the opportunity to get back on that particular horse. 

Meryn had already agreed to watch Ash for the whole weekend — partly because he did adore his nephew, but he did understand that it was going to be nice for her to have a day or so to recover after such a big soiree. 

She’d heard the fabled after-party mentioned at a couple different small socials, but no concrete details. There was some comfort in knowing that there was a focus on privacy, and no small amount of intrigue. Sure, curiosity killed the cat, but didn’t satisfaction bring it back? 

It was a chance to have fun around other adults again, within her own comfortable boundaries. 

But, that also meant figuring out something to wear. The symbols on the front of the card — The Elements — made it a little easier to hone in on an idea. At the very least she knew she wanted to look absolutely fucking stunning. 

These days, there was no doubt in her mind anymore about how easy that was going to be to achieve. She’d stayed in shape, and her freckles, tattoos, scars and lean muscles were all some of her best assets. If ever there was a time to show them off, it would be there!

May 26 - Day 6 Gleaming / Hurt

Lyn had bypassed the press line in favor of a more direct path to the door made by flanking around the back of all the photographers — none of whom bothered to look behind them, after all, the people they were here for were more than glad to pose and chat in the view of all their lenses 

She’d grown up dirt poor, but had danced in the splendor that was the Royal Ballet centuries ago, back when she had been a much younger girl. The hubbub reminded her of a show the King and Queen had formally decided to attend, meaning the rest of the Court had to as well to keep up appearances. The opulence then certainly hadn’t matched this — and this time she didn’t have to powder over her freckles. 

February 21 - Day 3 Velvet/Consequence

Going along with this storyline: Prologue -> Here Fio Day 1 -> Here Xylaes Day 1 -> Here Pyraelia Day 2 -> Here Taric Day 3 -> Here

A picture flashed across her comm of Ash chasing some pigeons near the Court of the Sun fountain. As soon as it became apparent that Lady Tel’vaiel’s illness was a bit more, Meryn had agreed to keep him for the week. It seemed prudent to keep her son as far away from any potential phantasmal mischief as possible, and her half-brother adored getting to flex his uncle muscles as much as possible. 

Her heart ached to be so far away from him, but it really was for the best. 

Calling in the Darkmorns seemed prudent, too. After all, most of her own work with souls was after their death and already free of their body. Still in a body? Absolutely not her own wheelhouse. 

She hadn’t really known what to say when Keranna cornered her and asked if she trusted them. 

Taric, yes. Red was more of a wildcard, but it also didn’t ultimately matter — they didn’t have much choice otherwise if they wanted to have a shot at getting the Lady back in proper sorts. 

There wasn’t much for Lyn to do but wait, really. It was unlikely they’d need her for the actual expulsion, but she’d heard there was always a risk of physical complications as a consequence of the foreign soul resisting. She hoped the sedatives would make that easier, at least. At least to start. 

Maybe. 

She could admit to having a morbid curiosity about the process as someone who had only been introduced to that world at large within the last decade. 

An even smaller part of her reveled in balancing out the scales of having a couple more people around who didn’t have much of a connection to the Lady. The last few days of being surrounded by people who loved her and were having to process the situation had been so intensely draining. 

Lyn sighed and ran her hands over the velvet cushion on her lap, the feeling of being so intensely out of place among all the fine things and fixtures. It had always been uncomfortable to be here, but the Lady’s connections and what she paid for not only her own care, but that of the staff that worked in the house and grounds, and those that lived down in the town itself meant that Ash was going to have a better education and life than she or her own parents could’ve ever dreamed of. 

Another picture popped up of her son with an ice cream from one of the little food stalls that set up around the city and she smiled. 

She’d be back to him soon.

November 23 - Day 4 Children / Visions

Their meetings had started as a formal summons, nearly a year after the Regent Lord Theron had made her acquaintance on the transportation ring of Oribos.

Just them, alone in his office with a small stack of intelligence reports about her and dozens of his own questions to fill in the gaps. He understood her desire for privacy at least — the less people who knew she was a true Veilstrider, with some of the powers of the Val’kyr, the better. One meeting turned into a series of ten to discuss it all; she couldn’t leave her infant son alone with other family members for too long, nor did she want to.

That series of ten official meetings became more informal chats, set under a secret name with the Court clerk that managed the Regent Lord’s calendar. They were both old soldiers, burdened with responsibility they wouldn’t wish on others. It could be lonely, even in rooms surrounded by people, but in the confines of his office, bordered on either side by a set start and end time, they were just people— maybe even friends —who could connect over their similar pasts, the love of their home and what it could become in a time of peace.

But he was still the Regent Lord, and she was still a Veilstrider. When their time was up the yearning set in, gnawing at the edges of the solid foundation she’d built for herself. She’d had another friend like this, once. Someone she could go, sit with and truly connect for hours. A comfortable home away from home until she’d fucked it all up trying to make more out of it than she had any right to.

Four years of doing her best not to bother or infringe was enough, perhaps. Three of those years had changed her so much that she knew her many past lives, all lived within this one, would never recognize her. Children had a way of doing that, though.

“Hi Dice, it’s Lyn. Would you like to get lunch?”

She hadn’t hit send, yet. It didn’t feel right. It hadn’t for the hours she’d backspaced it out and rewritten it. Did she need to say her name? He’d never seemed the type to delete people out of his comm unless they’d severely wronged him.

But she had pretty severely wronged him, so maybe.

“Hi Dice, it’s Lyn. Would you like to get lunch sometime? No pressure if not.”

That didn’t feel right either. Too… uncertain.

“Hi Dice, it’s Lyn. Would you like to get lunch sometime”

She left the cursor blinking and stared at the screen a moment before putting the comm down on the coffee table so she could take a break, step out onto the cabin porch for a deep breath of ocean air and get the overthinking under control. This was something she’d worked on. A text wasn’t the end of the world. The worst he could say was no, in his polite way, and that would be that.

Lyn stepped back inside and was immediately hit with a pang of deep dread. Ash smiled at her from the living room, her comm in his tiny hands, awake early from his nap. He loved her comm so much that she’d gotten him a fake one to play with. But, she’d left hers in easy reach, and that quiet, mental chorus of ‘oh no’ verified when she scooped him up and looked at the screen.

“Hi Dice, it’s Lyn. Would you like to get lunch sometime🌿⭐️🧀🧀🧀🙂😒👻🤞//349MMMMMMMMMMMMMMM” Sent, 1:35pm

It was enough to make her laugh, at least. Ash did love the ‘pictures’ and had just smeared his finger across most of the ones that had risen to the top of her favorites, but he had ultimately solved her problem in a way only a child could, and that text did now very much need an explanation.

“Sorry. My son found my comm. Lots to catch up on if you would like @ a place of your choosing.”

November 20 - Day 1 Instinct / Neglect

Ashraniel had been a handful since the day he’d come into her life; the first child born in the city at the turn of Silvermoon’s new year, something Meryn had taken the liberty of confirming with every hospital and clinic behind the Shepherd’s Gate. The noblewoman witch she’d been working for had deemed it auspicious. It annoyed her that it probably was, greater forces than her had an awful hard time leaving her family alone, and Lyn had warded his room and their small cabin as best as she could against the outside looking in — whether friend or foe.

He was three this year, and full of the mischief that grew off of the terrible twos. Sunny blonde hair fell in soft waves to his shoulders, but she could see where the red undertones had started to fill in from the platinum he’d been born with. Part of her hoped desperately he’d keep that flaxen color, maybe time would be kind and he would. It felt inevitable as the freckles that had started to appear on the swells of his cheeks, the bridge of his nose and the rounds of his shoulders that in time he’d be as ginger as she was.

Summer had always been their most idyllic time. Ash toddled full speed into the kitchen in his pull on shorts, carrying a small foraging pail and shovel, a gift from his uncles, and proclaimed at a volume well beyond their ‘inside voice’ lessons, “Mommaaaaa I want to go to the BEACH!”

This was not unusual; he’d loved the sea and the sand as much as she had since he had been old enough to really appreciate it. Lyn sighed and nodded, “Alright, you can be out there until it’s time for lunch, okay? Will you find me four shells?” They had been working on counting, and it was something to keep him occupied while she cooked.

Ash counted on his fingers until he got to five, then backed off back to four and nodded, “Four. Okay!”

His excitement was palpable as she propped open the cabin door and walked with him out onto the porch that descended directly into the sand and then the surf a few yards beyond, “Remember Ash, stay where I can see you from the windows, and if the waves can touch your feet…?”

“I am too close!” He nodded emphatically before taking off down the shallow slope, bucket and shovel bobbling in his hands.

Some would call this gentle supervision neglect, but their small spit of coastline was safe enough and it let him have some independence — similar to the kind she’d had growing up deep in the woods, able to go on grand adventures without either of her parents around to keep an eye.

She was only about halfway through the mornay sauce for his ‘macaroni cheese’ when a toddler shriek erupted from outside; he wasn’t old enough yet to be able to split the difference in tone between ‘extreme fun’ and ‘being murdered’ and in a flash she was out the door, conjured spear in her runescarred hands. By the time she’d made it to where he’d plopped down in the sand, the crying had started, and Ash managed through pitiful sobs, “Momma it bit me.”

A blue strand crab sat frozen in the bottom of the bucket, both claws out in defense and ready to pinch again.

Lyn sighed and dismissed her spear, heart rate settling. There was a lesson here for him, too, she knew. He held up his arms and she scooped him up, letting him sniffle into her shoulder as she gathered up the bucket holding the fair caught, decently sized crab and a couple shells, “I’ll take a look once we’re inside and we can put some ice on where it’s hurting. After we’re done with lunch we can go back out and I’ll help you find more shells, okay?”

It was enough for now, and he’d be able to settle a little while she re-made the sauce and steamed his catch. He was still picky and only wanted the cheese and noodles, but she was looking forward to having a little extra protein with hers.

Day 1 - August 21, 2022 Silver/Darkness

Light from the White Lady spilled in through the window, casting soft shadows in the way only the large moon could manage. It was late enough, Lyn knew, that soon enough the muted tones of the Blue Child would join in and smudge the silhouettes of the leaves, window panes and a person’s overall purpose. The second moon only rose at a time when most should be in bed, but here she was — awake, winding cobalt blue silken thread around a found, fallen branch of white wood.

Sleeplessness had been a companion throughout her time in the Shadowlands; the ephemeral nature of time on that plane still lingered, even months after she’d been spending the majority of her days back on Azeroth’s comforting earth. Not that she minded too much. The small, dark hours of the morning had always possessed a unique charm to them. They felt a little more magical, the vast still and quiet open to unique possibility that didn’t exist in the busy, bright day.

Her golden eyes stayed trained on the task at hand. She’d never been a great artist, but she was a decent enough hand at making things and some of the women in Skold Ashil had shown her mobiles full of trinkets, bound tight with blessings of protection meant to hang over a new child’s crib. The branch in her hand would join three others, crossed at the center. It was important to her that the attached objects be meaningful, she’d been around enough seers and witches to pick up that energy was as important as intention regardless of the magic’s source.

Lyn cradled the first item in her runescarred palm, a delicate silver vegvísir pendant that had been a gift from a once dear friend she hadn’t talked to in some time. The untarnished metal glowed in the moons' light, as if it were basking in being free from her jewelry box. She’d kept the letter it had come with, and though the sentiment had been different at the time, she couldn’t think of a better place for the piece than here.

“It’s to help you find your way through rough weather, even when the way is not known.”

What more could she want for her son? He would join her here in the winter, newborn and as unaccustomed to the orthodox rhythm of time as she was. She hoped he would have many pole stars in his life — people, places, things. Enough to be a guide when she couldn’t be, if there ever came a day that she couldn’t be.

She hitched the chain to the small thread-wound branch and smiled as the necklace found new purpose. This, she knew, was meant to be.