#umbralward

[ TXT ] : You were an eidolon singing tales of doom to unsuspecting men.  I was a hard-boiled detectivess who was hired to solve your case, but the moment I heard your song, a giant scorpion burst from behind the wall and we were forced to fight it together!

[ TXT ] : It was like a Sailor Moon Episode!  Which planet would be your patron?

[ TXT ]: did my song warn of the scorpion? i guess that doesn't really matter if we defeated it

[ TXT ]: i am a scorpio, so maybe that was my own destiny coming back to roost. i don't think mars or pluto really fit me though. is eris up for grabs?

If she had been more observant, she may have noticed that earlier, but Ophelia is none the wiser.

“Stars above!” she exclaims, rushing to Karla's side.  “I've never seen before this affect of mine own spells!  An unintended consequence to be certain, please, would you allow me to try and take care of it myself?  I always keep at least two of my strongest stones on me for emergencies like this!”

Bleary eyes can hardly locate the owner of the energetically proper voice above her, falling on the blurry outline. One of the healers steps back to allow the other to talk to her, and Karla tries to recall where she’s heard this tone before, because she knows, without the flicker of a doubt, that she has, indeed, heard this voice…

“Mm…” A weary hand twitches over the other. Oh… this was one of the people she fought against, wasn’t it? Her name was, um… no, she can’t recall. Her mind is too sick, too heavy. Everything hurts…

For a moment, eyes the weight of an entire castle close. Then they force themselves open again, try to find the smudged figure before her…

This, today, is her duty!

That thought makes it easier to ignore the aching in her muscles and the purple blossoming underneath her skin as her hidden wounds begin festering.  It does feel warm in the med tent to her, a fact she might notice if she had any idea that a fever began growing within her.  Despite her determination, a vertigo sinks through, insidious, beneath her notice.

She stumbles, and bumps into a motherly cleric with curly blonde hair.

“Forgiveness," she says to the healer, “I am making rounds, I didn't mean to intrude in your personal space.  If you need assistance, fair healer, please, direct this maiden as you please!”

"oh, careful!" edain holds are arms out and leans over slightly to catch the girl that stumbles into her. this is not the first time she has bumped into someone else today— the medical tents for the battle of the eagle and the lion were surprisingly busy. (she even overheard some of the clerics employed by the monastery saying how much busier it was this year.)

the young woman talks about assisting others, but she's in no way a state to do that right now. edain can tell from just one good glance that she hasn't been seen by a cleric yet.

"hold on now..." she presses her palm against ophelia's and feels a temperature so hot she's not sure how this girl is even still upright.

“Fair tidings, Timerra!” she greets, completely sunny.  “How fare thee after that match?  Your dance was simply dazzling, and you certainly softened up that Beagle boy.”

She offers a small laugh.  “Forrest bade me check in on the others disqualified.  Do you need any assistance?”

"ah, the lady of the hour— ophelia dusk." timerra places her hands on her hips, saying her name with all the mystique that it deserves.

"let me guess, forrest— the one with the fabulous hair? they took you out, didn't they?" that's the only outcome she can imagine. with the retainer liege relationship that they seemed to have, she can't see forrest allowing anyone else take ophelia off the battlefield.

"nah, i'm good. clerics already treated me." she doesn't say anything about how they were all eyeing her with contempt whenever they passed by her now. it wasn't her fault that they couldn't handle her energy.

Ophelia's voice trails before her, as though it's the line she follows into the tent, looking for the barefoot princess as well as she can.  Her hand is held over her face, as though the tent has sunshine to obscure her vision, and it isn't long before she finds Corrin, currently being fussed over by quite a few different healers.

“Oh, fortunate tidings!  Your precious nibling - my dearest liege - sends nir regards before ne continues the fight!”  She offers a bow of her own, fully embracing the role of royal messenger.  “Ne instructed me to ensure you had the utmost care, and I see ne had nothing to worry about at all!  Whilst your wounds mend, is there anything I can get you in the interim?”

“What are you still doing out here?  I'm well aware of the potency of mine own spell-casting.  You should hardly be able to move your arms - that's not a state given to chatting idly!  You simply must see a healer at once, and if I must be the ferrywoman of this river to life, I shant charge you a single coin.”

Her gray eyes meet with the third student there, and she recognizes the annoyance of a furrowed brow there.  Trifling!  “It's Princet Forrest's orders, after all, that I'm to see each and every one of us well taken care of.”

Caspar jolts at the call of his name, pulling him away from Linhardt's touch. Heat flashes across his face, suddenly overly aware of how close he was and how far he is now.

"Du- Ophelia!" Dusk was her last name. He thinks? His heels dig into the dirt, pivoting to face her while his mind catches up with her words.

                                      Rhajat - 

They would be united soon, dusk and midnight, Ophelia can feel it!

Her head is swiveling, trying to seek out her friend, and then - there - there she is!

“Rhajat!” she calls out the other's name with great exuberance, shoes clacking loudly on the cobblestone as she approaches.  “That the fair finger of fate should guide your path towards me once more!  Pure kismet!”

Her hands, normally splayed at various dramatic and hero-like angles, are clasped behind her back as Ophelia rocks on her heels, grinning down at her friend.

“And that nasty stink is returning - have you discarded all my therapies to delve once more in darkness?  I certainly don't mind sparing a fraction of my purifying light again, should that be why you've done this.  You can also just ask to hang out.”

How Ophelia should continue to find her despite her moderate efforts of avoidance is beyond her. Truly, she could not understand how one so opposite from herself would continue her pursuit; she had been a constant pestering, an excited little moth that nipped at her linens. Or, that could provide further proof to her claims of gemstone spellcraft. Perhaps, her lucky charm was working its chance? Rhajat's eyebrows raise in mock interest.

Then, washed away by the tide, these memories ebb from her consciousness. Where she knows the girl's name, she finds herself grasping at straws; where she knows the girl's games, she finds herself in a darkness not of her own making. The way the girl is so pathetically giddy to see her, so cheerful in her introduction-- she too must be one privy to the memories taken by this suffocating curse. And a curse it must be... after all, how could she be so sure, yet unsure? Dark magic is clearly at play.

Returning to her obnoxious encounter, her inky eyes reveal nothing of this lack of revelation. She just looks at the girl coldly, taking note of her face, her hair, her... loud habits. Maybe, this girl was the one who had cursed her? Hmm... probably not.