#ranah

In my worldstate there are two twin apprentices, Nimue (mine) and Ranah, the one Asra is in love with. ( @notyourinquisitormate ) Sorry for the quality, I don't write often enough to actually improve, hah!

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The bells were ringing over Vesuvia and the pearly mists swirling though its streets. Underneath the light of a full moon, Asra weaved through familiar cobblestone alleyways and small passages, between carriages and walls, scaring a flock of chickens where they had been sleeping in their cages as he stormed by.

He didn't care; he was panting as he ran, his breath hitching in his throat, catching on something that was not quite there and coming out trembling.

People were yelling and running in nearby streets but their voices sounded to him as if carried over from afar, their plight of no interest to the magician. He already knew what had happened.

Parts of it.

Soon, he might as well not remember at all.

Most of Vesuvia's citizens had attended the Masquerade tonight, as per the custom, and all of those lucky enough to be on the palace's grounds had been held from leaving, herded and locked inside the golden gates once the guards had realised where the smoke had been coming from. Asra himself had only slipped out thanks to a side-door, a secret marked and locked with his own magic since before the party, in preparation for what he had to do. For what he had done.

Because he had sealed the deal and there was no way out of it now.

It was there, underneath his robes, colorful and silken and glimmering in the moonlight, the robes she had picked for him so long ago, had handcrafted, perfumed and crested with her magic. Underneath the light fabric now sticking to his chest, a mark was glowing, ice-white and pulsing to the rythm of his heart.

Asra didn't spare the ground a single glance as he tensed and sped up, leaping over one of the smaller canals. Faust stirred around his neck, uneasy as he turned around a corner and ducked under a low balcony. She radiated worry and tension, mirroring his own fears, amplifying them, urging him forward.

Almost there. Almost! A few more streets, a few more stairs, a few more abandoned stalls and forgotten fireworks that would never be lit- faster, he had to go faster-

The glow of the mark was fading. It had began going hazy the second he had set a foot out of the palace, after he had struck his deal with the Major Arcana. Now, as he raced under the stars, stopping only for mere seconds to check behind corners and over bushes for patrolling guards, Asra once again tried and failed to remember. Every step carried him closer to what he wanted and further away from memories he had no desire to hold on.

Now, he could only remember the words.

"They will be there. As promised. As bought."

There. There? Where?

[HOME]

Faust's not-voice was a gentle whisper in his mind as he brought himself to a sudden stop, finally here, finally before the familiar wooden door.

It stood solemn and quiet, almost as if the shop had been waiting for him and Asra could feel his skin crawl, the cold sweat on his back. The lantern on the left side of the entrance was lit, fireflies fluttering around it and the crisp, clean aroma of mint spilling from its flame in small, refreshing waves.

Asra hiccuped, squeezing his eyes closed to stop the sting of tears. Ranah had put the flare of magic in this one himself. He had made it light on its own every night. Had cast a different aroma for every day, for every hour.

Sometimes, the fragrances changed based on the other magician's feelings and Asra had learned to read them by the heart and could tell, before entering, how his other half felt, the happiness or sorrow in his chest, what hid behind that ever present smile-

Asra sniffled and clawed at his heart, gasped under the force of the beloved memory. His knees buckled for a second before he willed himself back up, quickly brushing his nose on a glittering sleeve. Faust squirmed, head nudging the small dark gem hanging from his necklace.

It flared with life. Once. One jolt of magic running through it like the beat of a warm, living heart right next to his own, like it used to do before, before-

Asra had undone the locking spell in an instant, flying through the dark store, door left hanging open behind him and feet tripping over jars and pots he would navigate through every other day with closed eyes.

Practically throwing himself up the narrow stairs, he flang the tapestry to the side, the myriads of coins and symbols and charms hanging from it ringing and brushing against each other cheerfuly.

And there, he stopped and stood and stared.

The window was open, curtain swinging lazely with the breeze, mixing the familiar smell of sandalwood and lemon with the slightest hint of smoke and ash.

It was as if there suddenly was too much oxygen in the world; whatever had been blocking Asra's throat was violently set loose and he fell on his knees, chest heaving and tears staining the wood between his hands. Faust slithered up to his hair and down his arm and then booped her nose against Asra's forehead again and again, trying to nudge herself between his nose and where it touched the floor.

[THEM] she repeated, over and over in pure, joyful bliss as Asra unsteadily got to his feet and staggered towards the bed, towards the two warm bodies breathing calmly on the covers. Reaching out a shaking hand, he brushed adoring fingertips over shining black hair and dark, cool skin adorned with golden tattoos. He traced a trembling palm down to join the twins' joined hands where they were holding each other even in their sleep.

[THEM! NIMUE! RANAH!]

Asra allowed himself to collapse at the bed's foot, face in his hands, sobs finally allowed to cut freely through the quiet of the night and over the sound of the bells still ringing over Vesuvia's night sky.

They were here, they were alive, they were healthy and he, he was finally, finally-

Ranah multiclassed into Rogue

The DM as an NPC: I assure you, ma'am: this is no trick.

Ranah: (to the NPC) Oh, I'm not talking about you. I'm talking about me.

The DM: 😳😳😳