#kayames

Araceli is grimy, dirty, and sticky. It’s been a week since the forsaken ship had gone up in flames, and the dip on the ocean that followed had done nothing to improve her mood. The week that followed wasn’t any better, as she struggled to piece together where to return, when her mind was still broken down in pieces. Making her way back to Lysara proper from the Queenset Isle Sylvie and her had washed up on had been an obvious step, but from there, she had struggled to find her place. She knew that at some point she would have to make it to the Tower, to try and get a witch to look at her fractured mind, but before she could even attempt to do as much, her feet had taken her to a Warding Stone and towards Eterna, further into the city and to a front door that seemed oddly familiar. 

It took her a long moment to realize that it was her place, and another for her to gather the courage and knock. It felt as if she would find a key part of her behind the door, but she can’t explain why.