#kylareth

Lain peered searchingly at the woman as she explained that she wasn't a Magistrix yet nor was she a Knight. The hint of a snowflake drew his attention a little as well, the scent of magic rapidly apparent to him which only served to confuse him further. He didn't understand the complexities of titles and ranks amongst the magically-inclined.

His lips parted to comment on the pricing of cupcakes, but it was deterred as the strange animated robot toddled around the cart and came into view with the bag. The spearman simply stared in confusion, squinting at it and leaning his head back slightly as if uncertain what to make of such a thing. Lain had seen many odd things in his stints in Silvermoon, but that didn't make his encounters any less surprising.

“Uh... what... oh.” He recalled what she said about the pricing and his right hand went to his left, slipping his fingers underneath the flap of his glove. A single silver was produced and he sheepishly held it up for her to see before glancing to the robot again.

“I... ah, don't have a lot of coin on me. I spent it all, except for this.” His brow furrowed into a wince as he cleared his throat. “I'll buy anything that one would get though. B-but if they cost more than that, then you can just have the silver coin if it'll help your baking business!”

A small ceramic vase was delivered to Aislan. Flowers in different shades of blue twisted and turned to freedom from the vase, the long stalks bending as if dancing to celebrate what the card resting within the flowers said. To: Aislan Dear bestie, I miss  you, and hope you are doing well. I promise these flowers won't explode. Tea soon, maybe? Love, Kylareth.

-A journal page dated 15 years ago-

With the help of Lord Victor we have constructed something fantastic. It is highly unlikely that anyone will even notice this project for we have kept it quite secret. Even here in these pages I am weary of divulging far too much.

But we have crafted a weapon of such power it thrums in my hands, pulsating with glee at what devastation we could bring with it. The price was simply made.  No one will miss these containers as they stay within their comatose state. The strength of their souls empowering. It will be eternal, and perhaps even outlast me.

The power source will never be found, and the soul staff is a perfect creation forged with the will of two allies to bring our civilization back to what it once was. The staff, dangerous of course, always within my grasp, I trust none other to it. Just another instrument within our plans.

Have no fear, those containers are well cared for, they require little within their eternal sleep. Perhaps a better life than they could have had so long ago.

I grow quite excited with this new triumph.

-NS