Complete Private Azure Promenade

[Lilynette sans Giltine]

Azure Promenade

The Root

Valentine.

Painted in pristine white and umber brown, it is a small village situated in the far northeast of Falderen. Though its once-prosperous green fields of husbandry have vanished, its people hold onto the hope for a brighter future, even when all reasonable arguments prove otherwise. As sunlight beams down on the land, a crystalline blue shimmers and dots the entire scenery.

It paints a scenic view, but the village knows better. In the distance, the expanding azure landscape stretches until it merges with Zakaden on the horizon. The shimmering mix of snow and crystals is a glaring warning, but Valentine stands strong and true to its namesake even in the face of the crystal mother’s expanding domain. Alas, given the recent happenings between Astorea and Falderen, Valentine is essentially left to rot — or perhaps better yet, crystallize.

The current year in particular has been rather harsh.

In this early morning, people walk the streets, but their morale is not as bright as that which coats the ground. Food is scarce. Attacks from crystallized monsters are constant, crops are infected, and an abysmal decrease in travelling merchants since the great Astorean exodus have pushed the people to the edge. In spite of these terrible odds, however, they have managed to hold on…partially, because of —

“Thank you for your time! I hope you discover something new today. Rozamen!” she says, beaming a smile. Her youthful hands clasp around the elderly ones before her, handing over a small basket with a myriad of pastries and a small pamphlet.

“R-rozamen…” Clad in cloths from head to toe, he mutters a response muffled with uncertainty before leaving. Her small booth is a few paces away from the small cabin that acts as a dying phantom of the Adventurer’s Guild, a place no one could quite recall the last time one of its members showed up.

Almost anywhere else in Arcia, the transgression of openly displaying the aura of her magicks would’ve likely resulted in her execution. Alas, the people of Valentine do not have that luxury. The elderly man’s reaction is not unique as people take practiced steps near her run-down booth. They steal quick glances back at the oddly-dressed woman. They look down. Yet,

They carry her basket of sweets.

The priestess pats away at and adjusts her dark attire and light golden locks, maintaining a friendly and proper image. It has been a couple months since she has taken the first step into spreading her faith. Though the people of Valentine remain suspicious of her, they have grown far more favorable over time. Lips curl, and blue eyes stand out amidst the distant crystals.

“Small as we are, our influence in the Arcanum remains great. Knowledge is our guide, not our enemy!” she begins her religious peddling anew, “Come join our sanctum of wisdom!”

---

@Jin​

 

[Jin]

Amid the field of frost, an ominous inkstain hobbled. Inching its way across the well-lit, reflective ground, the figure seemed to swallow all of that light as it made its way toward a final destination. The sound of frozen grass and water crunching beneath it were the only indicator that it might be a living, breathing creature.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The sound of a heartbeat, accelerated. Blood pumping quickly and efficiently, provisioning warmth even to extremities in a way that the body was disinclined toward under normal circumstances. The figure raised its hooded head slightly, lambent crimson orbs peering out from beneath.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba...

The drum cadence in his ears began to slow as the town came into sight, a small, secluded place on the edge of Falderen.If the Guild's records were complete, this settlement at the fringes of civilization was in danger of being abandoned by the outside world entirely. No messages had been received in quite some time, and word had it the local Guildmaster had no shortage of summers and winters beneath his belt.

His directive was a simple one. Learn the fate of the Valentine Adventurer's Guild, and report back on the conditions promptly. Normally when he came to a new Guild, there were myriad jobs available, and the people were quick to greet him or at the very least cordial.

None of those things were true here.

Jin pulled back his hood as he made the first step from the frosted field into Valentine. He took notes on his surroundings, the way the vegetation rotted, the distant but prevalent sounds of skittering or howling that hinted at danger-

It was a small wonder that the world had seemingly forgotten this place. Valentine appeared to be the sort of place where hope went to die. The shambling bodies of people consigned to fate dotted the paths periodically, but none of them deigned to look his way. One of them caught his gaze and quickly looked away, as though he wanted nothing to do with the outsider.

“Thank you for your time! I hope you discover something new today. Rozamen!”

He hadn't quite come to his destination when from nearby, a strange voice rang out and sundered the sterile silence. The Bloodsworn slowly turned to look at the speaker, who reminded him faintly of one of the many women from the church who had frequented his home toward the end of his mother's life.

“R-rozamen…”

He could hear the discomfort in the response. The way that the strange denizen of Valentine accepted kindness, but seemed unhappy about was all too familiar. It reminded him of how he had become ingratiated to those unscrupulous evangelicals entirely because he needed their charity. He could feel his lips pulling into a sneer.

Jin was watching her now, the way that she adjusted herself to maintain appearances even under scrutiny. Doubtless she could feel his eyes on her, the same way that one could feel all of those untrusting eyes that surrounded them both. The townsfolk were aware of him too, now, but seemed to regard them both with the same aloofness and cold.

Or perhaps they trusted him a bit less than they did her.

That made sense: she was feeding them, after all.

“Small as we are, our influence in the Arcanum remains great. Knowledge is our guide, not our enemy!”

Gods and goddesses were very real in this game. They had dealt with all manner of divine influence, and whether that was programming or something else entirely, it meant that Religious orders were an organized and developed concept. Cults? Maybe an obscure notion here or there, something devoted to an abstract god or some demon- but "knowledge?"

"Come join our sanctum of wisdom!”

That tore it. With what little he could glean, he'd recognized her as anomalous. Something- someone- that did not belong. He might get more information from her than any of the locals.

"Interesting venue for a sermon," he observed as he made his way past her, toward the Guild building.

"You must be on good terms with the Guildmaster. Normally, those types discourage... solicitation."

@Lilynette sans Giltine

 

[Lilynette sans Giltine]

Someone unfamiliar catches her eyes. Lilynette has grown accustomed to the diverse array of inhabitants of Valentine. In general, however, they take what they need, swallowing their own pride before finding themselves unable to hold their gaze steady. They take food of dubious origin, even if it comes from the jaws of the devil itself—so long as they live for another day.

Thus, someone with such a confident gaze belongs not among them.

The priestess’ smile is tinged by light pink, and her shining blues promise a brighter future. Although darkness clouds her aura, its shadowy grasp is not unlike the comforting embrace of a mother. In summary, his presence urges no changes in her behavior. She isn’t quite sure if he’s on a mission to put an end to her efforts, but in the end, his business matters not. Lilynette will stand her ground, for another chance such as this will not present itself on a silver platter again.

Valentine shall become The Root of Arcanum no matter the cost.

Noticing how he appears to head for the Adventurer’s Guild headquarters, she takes the opportunity to warn him. “Ah, excuse me, but if you seek quests, I think most of them are not worth it.” Lilynette is no adventurer, but problems need solving all the same regardless of any structure established by the guild. She indirectly takes care of them on a daily basis, leaving only the ones that would likely need monumental effort behind them.

“…And frankly, I cannot imagine someone who is not in good graces with Berthrand. You don’t get a choice!”

She says, masking her lips behind her fingers in a feeble attempt to prevent a series of soft-spoken giggles. “He is a boisterous man, and perhaps the only one capable of shining brighter than all these crystals.” the goldi-locks suddenly realizes her meandering with a tiny jolt of surprise.

“Oh, where are my manners! I am Lilynette sans Giltine, founder and priestess of the Rosecross Arcanum. Please just call me Lily!” with her hands folded, she greets him with a curt bow.

“Pardon my boldness, but are you perhaps one of the Starfallen?” her hands clench ever so slightly, hinting at subtle anticipation. “If you’d have some time to spare, I would love to share wisdom between us!” she locks her gaze onto his visage while remaining unfazed by the piercing red, displaying no confrontational intent in her contrasting blues. As the last of her words escape past her lips, the priestess holds the final basket of sweets on her hands.

A subtle transaction is presented before him.

Would he accept?

---

@Jin​

 

[Jin]

"...I think most of them are not worth it."

Social commentary on the sad state of Valentine, perhaps? He did not have to look around to pick out the myriad things wrong with this place. Worthless harvest meant limited food, the recent lack of travel meant an even more strangling scarcity of resources... poverty ran rampant, and she seemed to be doing quite well for herself.

So, why would a Guild in this area not have worthwhile quests?

“…And frankly, I cannot imagine someone who is not in good graces with Berthrand. You don’t get a choice!”

His probing had been rewarded. She divulged the name- and therefore the probable continued existence- of the Guildmaster. With that in mind: why had the man not made an effort to get word back to Astorea?

Her bubbly personality seemed to fall flat against his stony face, as he did not smile when she affected a positive review of Bethrand. Jin watched her expression shift, watching an unseen timer out of the corner of his eye.

...two... one...

The cooldown on his Hemomancy after a prolonged excursion into the cold had been expected. His body needed to recover from sustaining temperature and elevated heart rate, and now he could see his breath as steam in front of his face. His cheeks felt flushed, and he could see the sides of his nose losing their color.

What was more important, perhaps, was the mystery that his Investigation Mode unraveled.

Her darkness was subtle, if not at all menacing. It's nature was absolute however, and undeniable. For all her kindness, and for the gentle, even congenial personality, she was fueled by something nefarious. Which was fair-

So was he.

“Pardon my boldness, but are you perhaps one of the Starfallen?”

Bold? No, but telling? Absolutely.

"You have an eye for obscurity, it would seem," most Landers couldn't tell them apart, except perhaps ones who were more wild and avant garde about their personalities or appearances. Jin marked her body's sussurations, and the way she fidgeted. Excitement?

Had she been hoping for someone to come along?

“If you’d have some time to spare, I would love to share wisdom between us!”

He recognized from her words that she had not needed an affirmation. She knew what he was, almost as though there was some kind of familiarity in it. Had she seen others?

...did that mean she had been here for quite some time, even before the Travelers stopped coming?

She thrust out her basket toward him, a gift of sorts, perhaps? He regarded it with a quiet eye for a moment. These types loved to lure you in with grand gestures and fine gifts.

And they always expected something from you in return.

"I've come on business," he told her, raising a hand in warding. "Your friend Berthrand has been delinquent for quite some time in making his reports to the Guild. I aim to find out why that is."

He held his hand steady a moment, then curled his fingers back and let it fall.

"But I can perhaps spare a moment of time..."

@Lilynette sans Giltine

 

[Lilynette sans Giltine]

"You have an eye for obscurity, it would seem,"

"Perhaps! In such a small village, familiarity among faces is the norm. I have noticed no caravans or groups of people arriving either," her expressive eyes momentarily glance away, retrieving memories from the recesses of her mind.

“After all, traveling solo is typically the choice of… travelers!” she chuckles at the obviousness of her statement, but it aptly conveys her point.

Despite her friendly and open demeanor, the priestess doesn't overlook the inner workings of his magic. His mana springs to life, and while she lacks the blessing of investigation, her blessed sense of touch aids her in such moments. Its subtle but burns red-ablaze, malevolent, urging her velli to stand tall as it crawls upon her skin. After a lingering second, their eyes meet again, creating the perfect opportunity for the purposeful uttering of a single word, devoid of context.

“…Impressive.”

From her perspective, this changes the game. The man before her is either a master of hellish flames or of the flowing crimson. Lilynette cannot discern which option it might be, but the latter would make this monotonous Valentine morning infinitely more thrilling. Perhaps, if she plays her cards right…?

When he declines her basket of pastries, she adjusts it, hanging it over her left arm while resting her opposing hand atop her bosom. “Thank you so much for your time! I shall try to be brief, but… how about a deal?” she suggests, allowing her words to resonate.

“I will ask you a question about Astorean matters, and in return, I can introduce you to Berthrand! At least the two of you can start on good terms that way. Does that sound favorable?” Though her soft-spoken words maintain their upbeat nature, something feels different now. Her lips have shed the shallow quality of her smile, and her shoulders relax, revealing a behavioral authenticity rather than practiced charm.

“If not, feel free to ask a question of your own!”

---

@Jin​

 

[Jin]

After all, traveling solo is typically the choice of… travelers!

"And people who simply don't enjoy company," he smirked. She was observant, obviously; but she also tipped her hand more quickly than he'd expected. Why was she so observant?

Was she nervous? Certainly cautious. She had something to hide, or to protect.

…Impressive.

Without context, the word seemed out of place, out of character even for the woman who was offering succor in the streets only moments before. Jin was observant himself, however, and as he had already been monitoring her state, the subtle shifts in that strange dark aura did not escape his notice.

Thank you so much for your time! I shall try to be brief, but… how about a deal?

The Bloodsworn stopped, the smirk on his face twisting into a wicked grin. "It would seem there are those in this place who do value time as a precious commodity," he remarked. "You've stoked my interest. Far be it for me to say no to an offered...."

His words stopped for a moment as he savored them, letting the final word fall from his lips ravenously.

"...deal."

He listened to her terms closely.

I will ask you a question about Astorean matters, and in return, I can introduce you to Berthrand! At least the two of you can start on good terms that way. Does that sound favorable?

Jin tilted his head. "Curious. You said yourself that you couldn't imagine someone who was not in the man's good graces," he said, repeating her own words. "unless there is something I don't know, I fear this deal would leave me at a disadvantage."

She was smiling now, a genuine effort on her part. Practiced though her demeanor was, it was hard to replicate "real" kindness. Whatever that was.

He took a step closer, assessing the woman's physical- and any subtle changes otherwise- state as he dispensed with the minimum safe distance between them. Now leering down at her like a vulture watching the death throes of cattle, he added: "because what you seek is information, and information is a weapon in the proper hands."

If not, feel free to ask a question of your own!

Yes, oh yes, she understood the game. Better at least than she initially let on. He circled around her once, a quick sweep, then took a step back away from her. Whatever she was- whatever the power fluctuating beneath the surface was...

Jin offered a smile of his own, uncharacteristically bright.

"Yes, perhaps I will do just that. Go ahead then- ask your question."

@Lilynette sans Giltine

 

[Lilynette sans Giltine]

“You appear just as surprised as I am,” she remarks in response to his commentary on the value of time.

While the man standing before her may not be aware, their meeting on this cold day is coincidental, yet the time invested in her plans is not. Time is the currency she spends for every ounce of trust from Valentine, every single day. Her goal is not to establish leadership, but rather—

To cultivate an environment for negotiation.

“Curious…”

Ah ♪

He discerns the fine print swiftly. On the other hand, for someone who dedicates so much time to enticing others with the words of her faith, Lilynette is acutely aware of the risks associated with being drawn in like this...

But by the gods, is it intoxicating.

Lilynette begins tapping her free hand's fingers before closing her eyes and replying, “…There is a first time for everything, traveler. I cannot guarantee my previous claim remains true when your business implies his service delin—” and as she opens her eyes, the space between them is swallowed whole.

When she gazes up, the contrasting dance of colors begins anew. In the face of his presence, the priestess’ shoulders tense, and her breathing halts—not from a primal instinct like fear, but rather from the ravenous crimson triggering the reaction.

This is bad. It mocks time magic as it glides her back to the recent past, where wicked magic crawled across her unholy sanctuary. This is bad. The windows of her soul drift away, unleashing waves upon her lips and painting her fair skin a soft pink. This is bad. Averting her gaze is a fruitless effort, not when their voices whisper sweet notes into her ears.

No sane person would perceive their anguish this way.

In the end, this everlasting moment does not last. The painted picture of a meek and cornered priestess crumples with the emergence of her lord. Originating from the satire of her beating heart, the chaos arcanum floods her veins and emerges from her nefarious aura, undermining the intensity of all colors nearby.

They meld together in a contrasting duality of white noise and pitch-black, twisting his senses and isolating the two from the world in that one moment.

It draws in with the warmth of a smile.

It draws in with the aroma of flowers.

It draws in with the promise of knowledge.

It draws in with the intensity of power.

The insatiable vulture is unaware it gazes into the abyss. Before the Arcanum, a curse bears no meaning when it takes the shape of a mortal weapon.

Soon the world turns once more, as if nothing has transpired in the first place.

“… You should not gaze so fervently at a woman betrothed to her faith, sir…” the priestess plays with the wavy ends of her hair, her meek remark trailing off as she realizes something is missing. When realization sets in,

She frowns and puffs her right cheek out.

Regret is what she feels, but much like a job is a job, so a deal is a deal.

“In any case, the question I want to ask is…”

"̷͙̗̈̉C̷͇̣̚a̸̗͋̋ń̶͇͛ ̶͓̎͝I̸̞͛ ̴̖̌o̴̦̊p̶̬͂ĕ̷͇̊n̸͇̻͆̃ ̸̬͒̓y̶̰͋̕͜o̴̪͌͠u̶͊ͅͅ ̶̤̐ù̷͉̦̀p̷̏͝ͅ?̷̧͔̃"̸̭̊ ̷͓̎͠ͅH̵̬͛e̴͎̓r̷͔̤͛ ̸̱̇̈l̶̗̈́i̴̘̐̈p̸̤̭̐̀s̷͖͋ ̸̜̂̓ṁ̸͈̑o̶̥̥̒̈́v̸̼͗͝ȅ̵͓͋,̷̨̀ͅ ̵͙̀b̴͎͎̅u̸̹̻͠t̷̫̔ ̶̦́͜h̴̜̲́̽e̶̢͝r̶̪͖͂̂ ̷͓͊͐ṁ̷̼ẹ̴̲̇l̵͇̪̓ĺ̸͍̈́o̶̲̰͆w̴͕̳̐̈́ ̴͍̎̍a̴͇̋͝n̴̫͕̚ḏ̸̇͆ͅ ̸̙̭͝ḧ̸̜̭o̸͓̊̕m̵̹͉͐̃e̴̡̟͐ľ̶͚̿ý̵̨͠ ̴̣̻̓̔t̷̯̆͘o̷̘͐n̶̨̈́e̶͚̓͜ ̵̟͍̇͌d̶͈͋o̶̗̕e̵̟̎͠s̶̯̝̈́́ ̶̨̌n̴̮̾̓ȏ̶̜͜t̸̛̩̏ ̷̜̿r̵͉̺̚e̷̬̮͋s̶̮̆͜ö̵́̒ͅͅņ̵̱̕á̴̤̲͠t̸͔͂e̷͈͝.̶̤̿̀

“Is it true that Astorea has quelled the machines in Vintergard and spared their mastermind?”

Alas, information travels slowly.

---

@Jin​

 

[Jin]

As predicted. The patron of whatever power she called upon tasted something when he came close, and the woman took the bait- whether or not she wanted to. Demonic entity, old god, or otherwise- such creatures had a discerning palate. The prisoners of Eschaton were likened unto a feast in the eyes of such beings.

A feast that had nowhere to flee, chained for eternity to the blade that was in turn bound to the Bloodsworn.

And though they could not flee, they had much to say on the matter.

Flee, foolish girl! Flee from a fate far worse than any death!

Flee? No... life is only one brand of shackles. Death is another- but this? This means freedom from both. Give up your flesh, toss aside your bones...

"Quiet now," Jin chided, as though scolding children. "When they realize that someone can hear them, they oft grow excited. Please, excuse their poor manners."

You force me to share chains with these degenerate mortals, then dare to hush me, Bloodsworn?

Jin did not deign to respond.

…you should not gaze so fervently at a woman betrothed to her faith, sir…

"Besides, one need not look far to realize, she already belongs to something else."

“In any case, the question I want to ask is…”

Jin began to lean closer to listen when the invective sound pierced his thoughts. It began like nails shrieking against a chalkboard, then grew more discordant as it raked his psyche and jeered his humanity.

The small portion of Theo that clung desperately to life within Jin reeled, but the creature he had willfully become felt his eyes widen, and his smile remained constant.

C̷͇̣̚a̸̗͋̋ń̶͇͛ ̶͓̎͝I̸̞͛ ̴̖̌o̴̦̊p̶̬͂ĕ̷͇̊n̸͇̻͆̃ ̸̬͒̓y̶̰͋̕͜o̴̪͌͠u̶͊ͅͅ ̶̤̐ù̷͉̦̀p̷̏͝ͅ?̷̧͔̃"̸̭̊ ̷͓̎͠ͅH̵̬͛e̴͎̓r̷͔̤͛ ̸̱̇̈l̶̗̈́i̴̘̐̈p̸̤̭̐̀s̷͖͋ ̸̜̂̓ṁ̸͈̑o̶̥̥̒̈́v̸̼͗͝ȅ̵͓͋,̷̨̀ͅ ̵͙̀b̴͎͎̅u̸̹̻͠t̷̫̔ ̶̦́͜h̴̜̲́̽e̶̢͝r̶̪͖͂̂ ̷͓͊͐ṁ̷̼ẹ̴̲̇l̵͇̪̓ĺ̸͍̈́o̶̲̰͆w̴͕̳̐̈́ ̴͍̎̍a̴͇̋͝n̴̫͕̚ḏ̸̇͆ͅ ̸̙̭͝ḧ̸̜̭o̸͓̊̕m̵̹͉͐̃e̴̡̟͐ľ̶͚̿ý̵̨͠ ̴̣̻̓̔t̷̯̆͘o̷̘͐n̶̨̈́e̶͚̓͜ ̵̟͍̇͌d̶͈͋o̶̗̕e̵̟̎͠s̶̯̝̈́́ ̶̨̌n̴̮̾̓ȏ̶̜͜t̸̛̩̏ ̷̜̿r̵͉̺̚e̷̬̮͋s̶̮̆͜ö̵́̒ͅͅņ̵̱̕á̴̤̲͠t̸͔͂e̷͈͝.̶̤̿̀

A pact with the Bloodsworn is folly for creatures such as us. He is both jailer and jailed, his life-

"Enough."

His smile had thinned. The sharp word was rife with warning. The spirit said nothing more.

“Is it true that Astorea has quelled the machines in Vintergard and spared their mastermind?”

Whatever entity guided the hand of this woman, it had drawn his interest. It seemed the interest was mutual. However, the flesh had a much more tame conversation in mind.

"The Machine crusade has been routed," he confirmed. "At the very least, for now. In their infinite wisdom, the Starfallen sought to spare the Mother of Machines. The dullard King acquiesced. They put her under lock and key. For how long that remains the case, your guess is as good as mine."

He had ever been an advocate of removing the cancer so that it had no chance of ever growing back or spreading. Alive or dead, Szofrit offered differing variations of amusement. It was easier simply to watch, and should their decision blow up in their faces...

Well, that too would be funny in its own way, wouldn't it?

His gaze remained on the woman, mindful of the presence deeper within her. He was interested in what business she had with such information, but unless she volunteered it, he had no inclination toward asking.

@Lilynette sans Giltine

 

[Lilynette sans Giltine]

“Y-you need not apologize. They seem rather…friendly?” Lilynette waves her hand dismissively. Her words resonate with chuckles, each note underscored by a hint of uncertainty.

This is unjust.

So profoundly unjust…

She averts her gaze from him, her docile blues shifting downward to her hand, observing flawless skin and succulent flesh. They serve as a veneer for the medium, the body, the sanctuary. The priestess has painstakingly cultivated this vessel, yet its core trembles in the presence of the unfamiliar. It yearns for more, when a bondservant should have no such desire.

No.

This is sin.

She belongs to her lord.

As long as she belongs, nothing else holds significance.

“I see…” She murmurs to herself with a sigh, finally regaining her composure. “Then I take it Vintergand must be bustling with Adventurer activity right now…” She taps her chin with her index finger, concluding that magitech must be saturating the market. Her lips curl into a smile as she realizes the surge in supply doesn't align with the feeble demand from those who oppose the very existence of the product.

Which meant… Favorable prices.

In the long run, this could benefit her vision for Valentine.

It’s a question she deems worthy of their deal.

Her blues fixate on him again, and she tilts her head in a rather familiar manner.

“Curious. If such an opportunity is unfolding in your homeland, why not take advantage of it instead of venturing here, near the last border of civilization?” The priestess asks with a chuckle, almost as if she relishes the reciprocity.

She acknowledges that the question is not part of their deal and won't press forward if he chooses not to answer.

“Well then?” She prompts, content, while lowering her arms and clasping her hands forward. The red ribbon on the basket’s handle stands out against the colors around her.

“What are you waiting for, traveler?”

---

@Jin​

 

[Jin]

Friendly was certainly a choice of word. Jin chuckled quietly and folded his arms. He could feel the discomfort, the same way he had felt so many times surrounded by peers he could not empathize with. The misplaced chuckles masking the fight or flight response. They came in great number, suggesting extreme distress.

Then I take it Vintergard must be bustling with Adventurer activity right now…

He quietly looked on as she parsed through the logic.

Curious. If such an opportunity is unfolding in your homeland, why not take advantage of it instead of venturing here, near the last border of civilization?

"Now that, madam, is a second question," Jin reminded her gently.

Information about the Asotrean state of affairs? Much more easily obtained than information about Jin's own motives. He lifted his fingers to his chin and considered for a moment the way of things in Valentine.

That subtle, creeping darkness that hung all around them, the strange and begrudging dependency that the natives appeared to have on this woman- those things were certainly not coincidence. But was his amusement enough to utilize the solitary question he was afforded?

"I can't conceive of an immediate and prompt mass exodus generated by the felling of the Magia," he mused. "As you only just confirmed those events, I can only surmise that something else drove other Travelers from this place."

His eyes locked onto hers acutely now, riveted, as if staring deeper into the abyss, completely aware of the danger.

"Pray, fill in the pieces for me. What transpired to whittle away the population of Starfallen, and leave the Landers diminished to this degree?"

Now that, that was information the Guild would pay for.

@Lilynette sans Giltine

 

[Lilynette sans Giltine]

At this point, the morning hustle and bustle —if one can call it that — of Valentine has reached its end. His question resonates on desolate white.

Ah, but naturally, that's the question he'd pose.

"You claim to have business here," she begins, closing her eyes, "A traveler and adventurer, one who perceives information as a weapon." Before continuing, she crosses her arms, and the fair skin of her cheeks blooms with a touch of warmth.

"A man bold enough to intrude upon the sacred personal space of a maiden of faith," she opens one of her blue eyes, glaring at him with intensity.

She cannot deny she enjoyed the experience, though.

"I have been playing it safe until now, but perhaps we could strike another..." Her gaze shifts away from him to the diminutive buildings of Valentine. She has discreetly put an end to many places like this, but the crystallized cold of Valentine feels like…

That's right. That's the answer—

"There were almost none of your kind here to begin with. The exodus just made the difficult trip to a village with little to offer... even less appealing."

"There are monsters on the path south, and the cold bites your skin at least half of the way until the next glimmer of hope," she says, drawing her lips into a knowing smile. Her fingers play with the wavy ends of her hair, intentionally allowing the words to settle in.

She closes her eyes, "Berthrand told me the guild hall of Valentine is old. Older than your kind. People from here used to stand proud, capable of producing high-quality cattle and husbandry products."

"But they grew complacent. When they decided to spare any efforts against crystallization, it was too late. Cattle decreased by the year, their efforts in agriculture dwindled by Zalra, while faced with a death trip from both north and south." She holds the basket in the same way again.

"But perhaps... I would say I am the nail in the coffin of the former Valentine. Dubious sweets, meats, and foods of all kinds at accessible prices at first."

"Alas, they cannot offer anything that piques my interest, yet, and so their currency does not circulate. Thanks to the low-value cost of quests from a strained local economy, travelers find the trip not worth the time."

"And now, drained penniless, the prideful Valentine finds itself relying on someone else instead." Even as those words slip past her lips, the practiced smile does not fade.

"I want to rebuild this place. I want Valentine to rise from crystal dust."

"I want to build something that people like you and me, who dabble in the occult, can call home and cultivate knowledge."

"To negotiate the practice of something perceived as taboo, I need a powerful driving factor.“

"They're still the people of Valentine. Once past their grudges, they will grow complacent again. When that time comes..." She shifts the basket just enough that the pastries slide off and fall over.

"I just need...~" As her words trail off, Lilynette’s hand reaches for the collar of her attire, where it slithers inside to produce a small pouch from within the depths of her ample bosom. She places it on the empty basket before finally moving from her spot and presenting it to the other party.

"... Time." Her lips curl up in a smile, letting the moment speak for itself.

"Forty-two gold pieces, each with the weight of ten. I’m willing to cover what your precious guild offered, or may offer as well. I do not wish harm upon them."

"Tell me, traveler,"

A not-so-subtle transaction is presented before him.

"Are you interested in any more deals?"

Would he accept?

---

@Jin​

 

[Jin]

The tragic tale of Valentine was one as old as time itself. The fiercely proud people struggled to keep themselves alive in the face of a danger that would see them almost certainly dead regardless. Any help they sought from the outside was assuredly kept relegated to quests with inordinate pay, much too risky or not nearly lucrative enough to justify the travel. As there was little technology for travel and magic that afforded teleportation was virtually non-existent (there had been rumors, though, of uncontrolled, unguided instances), the situation in this place seemed to have no hope of improving.

Reading between the lines was simple. With her willingness to show him ample coin, and by seemingly innocent admission of involvement, the woman had all but confirmed his suspicions. Her "faith"- and perhaps even more prominently, she herself- were the true architects of this inevitable calamity.

There were many Starfallen self-styled heroes who might be enraged or called to action by this sort of wicked display. The ones who dabbled in the occult still had Astorean immunity, they were largely indemnified of their craft simply for being Travelers. Jin had spent enough time in the world outside of that to know that his Dark Arts were just that to the rest of the world.

Dark. Evil. Unsightly.

"I just need... Time."

And indeed, the sands of time were a restless force of nature. Down the sieve they trickled, heedless of virtually all outside tampering. All save, perhaps, someone to tilt the hourglass on its side.

She reached into her garb and produced coin. Admittedly, it had been coin in part that brought him here, but more precisely, it was the information he had gleaned that made everything worthwhile. The Guild liked to be knowledgeable about everything in order that they could keep their hands deep in all of it.

For Jin, a more successful and seasoned Adventurer to come back with nothing to show or tell of it...

The Bloodsworn licked his chops, enticed by the notion despite himself. What she spoke of certainly was wholesale slaughter- the inevitable loss or sacrifice of these people for some purpose, such that she had not wholly divulged.

She was desperate. That she had already said so much was proof of that. However, he knew that there was a great deal she would not be so willing to part with. He was much the same.

"Tell me, traveler,"

He tilted his head, watching her closely, quietly.

"Are you interested in any more deals?"

His lips split into a toothy, wide smile, such that his eyes drew into slits.

"For a lady of the cloth to so readily engage in deals with devils- my, what would they say in Astorea?"

All around him, the cacophonous voices joined in lament, unbidden wails that belied some great blasphemy. Raising a hand slowly behind him, Jin clenched his fingers into a fist. As though an unseen door had slammed shut behind him, the sounds came to an abrupt end, and the voices were replaced by the bitter and cold wind.

"The notion of deals afflicts then with... anxiety of sorts," he reassured her. "Pay it no mind. As for what they might say in Astorea... who is to say? I can't say I found anything out of the ordinary during my time here."

He left the implications for her to follow on her own.

"Of course, to make certain of that, there must be assurances made- no, not your coin, for as you have indicated, such currencies are of little interest."

He peered at her, pressing a finger thoughtfully to his lips.

"I will admit to a great deal of fascination with what you may accomplish here. And so I offer you this deal- I return to Astorea and make my report, I assure them things are as normal in the town of Valentine. That the intercession of the Adventurer's Guild is wholly unnecessarily, and until a report is made that causes them to determine otherwise..."

He snapped his fingers, and held out his hand.

"In summation, all the time you could possibly need to achieve... something. And all I ask is that when my investment bears fruit, and your reap your reward, I will come to see that you make good on the return. In whatever fashion I deem suitable."

His smile remained.

"Do we have a deal?"

@Lilynette sans Giltine

 

[Lilynette sans Giltine]

“You appear to misconstrue the significance of the garbs I wear,” she says amid giggles but remains polite and respectful otherwise.

“My lord owns my mind, body, and soul for his cause. It is no god. It is everything learned in the past, everything we learn now, and everything learned in the future.” She closes her eyes, wagging her index as though indoctrinating the man on the beliefs of her budding faith, regardless of his interest in it.

“For the sake of becoming one in the future, we must learn more. But learning takes… time.” She winks toward the Bloodsworn as the keyword reminiscent of chronos is mentioned yet again,

“Deals with humans, angels, devils, and even gods mean little in the face of knowledge and its limitless reach.”

Desperation drives some of her actions in this ongoing moment, but they are not without reason. Unlike Starfallen travelers, magic amid the people of the land is exceedingly rare; even more so are those with a talent for the dark arts, and… Even rarer are the ones unwilling to let the taboo arts consume them.

And one of them stands right before her, despite his traveler status.

She may ask for time, but what she truly wants is—

“…Though, in all honesty, those are some rather unfair terms, do you think not, Bloodsworn?” A frustrated sigh of defeat escapes her nostrils as she adjusts her basket once more. Yet another offer declined.

She has no idea of what it is that he desires.

If the stories about the power travelers hold are true,

Brute force is out of the equation. He’s no villager.

She closes her eyes, yet another sigh.

What is she waiting for? A full report from the guild would cause all sorts of issues across her game plan. Berthrand keeps a smile on the surface, but she knows he secretly cannot wait for the moment an adventurer trespasses by that one door; the one literally a few steps away from the mysterious traveler.

A mysterious Starfallen who survived the trip, the monsters she released, and every other obstacle on the way here.

What she fears, in a twisted irony of fate, is not a deal with the devil,

But a deal with the object of her worship.

...

Ah, but fear is reserved not to a servile pawn.

Her vivacious practiced smile turns into a bittersweet one.

“You may reap your return in any way you find suitable, provided that it harms not the future of Valentine, and…” she says, adding her own clause to the end of his own.

…

“That you introduce yourself, traveler!”

“If you can agree to this, we have a deal.”

---

@Jin​

 

[Jin]

He watched passively, listened vaguely as she relished the passionate words about her faith. All creatures like this were taken with their idols, whether they be divine in the truest sense or simply construct. For Jin, it was the same bleated, faded tune playing on repeat.

…Though, in all honesty, those are some rather unfair terms, do you think not, Bloodsworn?

His eyebrow raised slightly.

"Unfair?" He shrugged. "What I am offering is the withholding of information from the Guild. If something happens to this place and it's found I was aware- complicit even, with it- how do you think that would end for me?"

Jin kept his hand held out.

You may reap your return in any way you find suitable, provided that it harms not the future of Valentine...

"I can understand your trepidation, of course... you have no idea what I might seek as recompense. To the point that you would seek to alter the deal to protect your own interests. I taste your desparation."

He smirks.

"Whether this place flourishes, falls, ascends toward heaven or plummets into hell, I could not care less," Jin told her finally. "I simply want to watch it happen. You have piqued my curiosity, and because of this, I want to see what you can achieve if you are given the means. And so, I plant the seeds- seeds that will not grow if not watered. I will water it by taking on the risks associated..."

Jin's eyes flicker with amusement.

"...and you in turn will have to trust that the risk is worth the reward."

...and that you introduce yourself, traveler!

In Japanese, it meant "man." In Arabic, "demon." The form it took was the same regardless.

"I am called Jin."

@Lilynette sans Giltine

 

[Lilynette sans Giltine]

"...and you in turn will have to trust that the risk is worth the reward."

Does he not savor the irony within his own words?

She chuckles, unable to restrain herself. "Trust is a rather...risky word to associate with individuals capable of evading all consequences at their whim," she mutters, shaking her head. Her words, rather than an insult, seem more like an acknowledgment of the tendency his people have of vanishing without a trace.

Yet, the bittersweet sentiments return swiftly, now infusing her words with a venomous undertone.

"You are not my lord. Do not speak of my interests, for as a bondservant, I do not possess them. Everything I do is in the name of my lord. To learn more is to become one," and in her pursuit of understanding the shared dark arts, she requires a starting point, a foundation.

In the name of advancing her faith,

She will confront the very thing she fears.

Their hands clasp, sealing the deal.

Would she become just another jailed soul?

Time alone will unveil the outcome.

"I am Lilynette sans Giltine!" Deathless Lily — a name crafted on a whim, by a young man who just wanted to learn more.

Fin.​

---

@Jin​