And So They Come [Tok, Cel]

[Lucia]

[OOC. I didn't want to just... assume that Cel's there and have Lucia just spontaneously break out into a conversation. :D;;]

There was no sun. Lucia felt the weight of that press into her mind, unease rippling throughout her, though she strove to ignore it by focusing on her latest present, delighting in the way the shade's eyes rolled, defiance and something else flickering through them. No matter. She patted it on its head and it stilled. It was learning, slowly, that trying to leave just brought more pain--Lucia had broken its fingers one by one, had cut a pretty picture of a tree (for Tok!) into its side, being so careful to make sure it didn't bleed out. However, she sliced off the shade's last ear (the other having been lopped off by her in battle) for no reason other than the symmetry pleasing her. Hopefully the king would think the same.

A sound whispered and she whipped her head around, a frown briefly settling on her face before fleeing. Nothing was there. Lucia shook her head and went back to work, movements a bit more forceful than necessary as she set about carving flesh from bone, exposing the bone of the spinal cord as she made sure to cauterize the wounds she made so that the shade didn't accidentally bleed out and ruin all of her hard work. The thought of it made her press down deeper, and the shade gave a larger twitch than the others. She yanked her blade away before it could do too much damage, tsking at the muffled screams. Her rag was still stuffed in its mouth, and while she would delight in the screams, she didn't want it to do anything foolish like trying to bite off its tongue.

Task done, a good portion of the skull exposed in the same way as the shade's back, Lucia leaned back, pleased with herself. She gave a leisurely stretch and smoothed down her dress, a pale pink sundress with a flirty hem that fell just above her knees. "Are you ready?" she asked the shade and giggled. "Well, as ready as you can be, in such short a time."

Lucia tugged the shade after her by the choke chain around its neck, its legs still working as she hardly done anything there, just a few knife cuts for aesthetic purposes. She paused briefly to pick up another present--Tok having the others--in the form of recently killed jaguar pelt. Though 'pick up' would be incorrect as she just tucked one flapping leg of the pelt under an arm, her halberd--for once--strapped to her back, and started to drag the pelt.

It was a good thing that appearances were deceiving when it came to the fae as Lucia easily dragged both of her presents along, fully confident in the fact she could just beat the shade into unconsciousness again if he tried to attack. It would be a pain to have to drag both presents, but if need rose...

---

Lucia approached the throne room, her heart beating fast with excitement in her chest. A few pointed kicks to the groin had had the shade moving well enough (well, once it had picked itself up off the ground) and she hadn't needed to make it fall unconscious. The pelt hadn't been roughed up too badly in the journey and she patted the fur, almost vibrating in her eagerness.

It had been strange though, the rage that had nearly choked her a few times, where she wanted to rip out the shade's eyes and feed them to it, but Lucia managed to throttle it back, keeping in mind her goal. She whipped her head back and forth, searching for Tok and the remaining presents, before she settled herself. Made herself breath slow, a smile curving her lips.

Tok would be here. She would. How could the pixie do anything different when Lucia was the one who asked? The voice that whispered differently was ignored, Lucia standing confident of her own assessment. It was less Tok daring to betray her, and more Lucia's complete confidence in herself.

But, for now, the king.

[Tok]

[OOC: Gonna wrap up what happened to Tok at Imbolc here if that's ok. If not, I can move it.]

Time had seemed to slip between the arrival of dusk and the attack itself. Tok's memory of the event was very much a blur, and the moment an arrow had very narrowly missed her foot, she let out an ear-piercing scream. In the chaos that followed, she was separated from her companions as she tried to run towards the Queen, hoping to seek safety among the Sidhe; however, she couldn't quite make it. The Shades had descended far to quickly for her to escape from her position at the outskirt of the party, and she found herself surrounded.

Reaching into the many folds of her dress, she drew her weapons of choice into her hands, wires that looked as though there were just a bundle of string. An oncoming Shade found itself suddenly bound with wire at the neck, abdomen, and legs. With a swift flick of her wrists, she completely shredded the creature apart, waves of blood spewing everywhere. Perhaps the other Shades were shocked at the sight, for there was a moment's pause before they all tried to avenge their fallen comrade.

Tok had taken that moment to set up a network of trip wires about her, throwing the threads of steel with enough force so that they anchored onto nearby objects such as trees, tables, and the ground. Save a small reflection from the bonfire, the wires were barely visible to the Shades, and her attackers found themselves utterly mutilated if they tried to charge at the pixie. Though her barrier was impervious to ground opponents, she had forgotten that arrows were still raining from the sky.

The barrier's drawback was that the pixie could not freely move, leaving her an open target to the projectiles. She tried her best to dodge, but a few arrows found their way through the mess of wires and lodged themselves into Tok's flesh. She grimaced when the arrows hit her, and thought about how silly she must have looked with random sticks protruding from her right bicep, left thigh, and abdomen. That last one hurt quite a bit, and while Tok and ripped out the first two, she didn't dare touch the third arrow. The last thing she wanted was to bleed out and die at this very spot.

She breathed a sigh of relief when King Cel came to rescue the fae. At his command, she limped and weakly fluttered back to the Unseelie caverns. Her wings had been severely ruffled as a result of her trying to dodge the arrows, but instead running into her own weapon.

----

Upon arrival at her room in the Unseelie court, she tried to dress her own wounds as quickly as she could. She bandaged the injury to her arm and her leg without much trouble, but it was the arrow in her stomach that proved troublesome. She slowly removed it, and sure enough, a pool of blood rushed out once the wound was open. At the very least, she managed to stop the wound from bleeding. At least, she hoped she did.

The pixie was running late. She had promised to meet up with Lucia as soon as the party was over, so the moment she had finished tending to her wounds, she threw on a simple white, sleeveless, knee-length cotton dress. She looked somewhat frumpy in the outfit, and was disappointed that she didn't have more time to fix her outward appearance. She ran her hands through her hair in an attempt to control the disheveled curls, and decided to make her way to the throne room when she told herself that it was "Good enough."

Tok moved as fast as she could through the caverns, consistently repeating the phrase, "I'm late! I'm late! I'm late! For a very important date!"[/b] It must have been a weird sight, seeing a slender pixie with a giant bandage on her right arm, a jackal in tow, and a giant metal cage containing a gold eagle in her left hand. The eagle was probably her most prized capture from her hunt with Lucia. She had simply thrown her wire out and caught it by its feet. It struggled with her to no end, but she managed to stuff it in the cage. It didn't stop the bird from continuing its struggle, though. By comparison, the jackal was much more obedient and trotted behind her. Perhaps seeing Tok rip apart its companion made this one more submissive.

The pixie took a moment to catch her breath before entering the throne room. She saw Lucia, and nearly wanted to just scream out her apologies for being late. However, the pixie did not want to create a disturbance, considering where she was. She walked over to the Sidhe, setting the cage down. It immediately began to rattle, but stopped when Tok kicked it over with her boot. She bowed at Lucia, "My apologies for being late, m'lady. Also, I'm sad to report the other jackal tried to maul me, so I was forced to..."[/b]

Tok's eyes fell upon the Shade that was on the floor beside Lucia. She let out a feral growl. While she appreciated the work Lucia and done on it, its mere presence suddenly reminded the pixie that this hideous gray being was the reason why she was injured, late, and not nearly well groomed enough. She had the sudden urge to kick it until it spat blood all over the cavern floor. Was it not enough that these... things... had exposed a major flaw in her defensive techniques, but now she had to be in the presence of one?

----
[OOC2: Edited! Sorry... I was writing really quickly between classes =P]

[King Cel]

The throne room was alive with healers and servants who bustled around, tending to the wounded and seeking to placate the advisors Cel had filled the room with in response to the Shade attackers at the Imbolc Festival. The King himself stood alongside his throne speaking with a guard, the sidhe’s finger pointed in the face of the armor clad warrior. Despite Cel’s gestures he did not appear to be overly agitated, but his eyes did seem troubled, as if the impending clean up of the Imbolc mess was weighing heavily on his mind.

Cel turned away from the guard only to occupy himself in a conversation with another man. The being was a healer and kept gesturing back to a group of wounded faerie who huddled in the corner, Cel simply nodded at the man’s words, not saying anything himself. The King was busy and it was apparent. In fact, he wouldn’t have even noticed Lucia or Tok’s entrance had a frightened shriek torn through the throne room, immediately prompting some to ready their weapons and causing the king to whip his head around defensively.

A wounded woman staggered back, pointing at the injured Shade. Soon Lucia and Tok found themselves surrounded by gawking spectators and guards who readied their weapons cautiously as they approached the mangled beast Lucia had captured. But they did not make it more than a body’s length to the creature before the voice of the King urged them back as he stepped through the crowd to examine the Shade.

He looked down at the black being, a creature of shadow and filth. His gaze rose to meet Lucia. He had noted the work she had done on the creature, they weren’t injuries acquired in battle. He smirked thoroughly impressed by the little sidhe’s taste for gore, but still confused as to why she had chosen to capture the Shade. He could say nothing but instead waited for the pair to speak.

OOC: The creatures that attacked the Imbolc are Shades, not Drow. Their connection with the Drow isn’t all that clear at the moment.

[Lucia]

Lucia blinked at the sight of Tok and the growl that she unleashed, tilting her head to the side like a little bird. Surely that growl had not been for her. For a moment the whispering grew louder, until she realized that Tok--Oh! Was her little pixie hurt?--was looking at the shade she kept.

Then they caught the eye of others in the room and were surrounded. Lucia plainly ignored the onlookers, sparing only a brief look of pure disdain over the screamer, her fingers twitching with the urge to go over to the already wounded woman and silencing her with a cut across her throat--that would shut her up. Screams like that, not caused by others, were such a waste. Lucia wanted to give the woman a real cause to scream, but no, the king was here and it would be terrible manners to poach on his territory.

Especially when he's looking.

Lucia smiled prettily at Cel, staring up with shining red eyes as she casually reached out to the shade's head and slammed it down to the floor. The loud cracking sound meant that it had possibly broken its nose, but she couldn't let its poor manners reflect on her! To think that she would allow it to gaze upon the king--oh! She should have taken its eyes as well!

"It has terrible manners," she said to the king (the king! her heart beat quickened pleasantly at the thought). Her fingers curled into the shade's exposed skull, digging into the surrounding flesh in warning before releasing her hold. The shade stayed down as she dipped into a pretty curtsy.

It was time for introductions. It was time for Lucia to make herself known, to have the king look at her favorably, to have him let her stay in this wonderful, shining Unseelie Court that tugged at her and seemed to match her, down to the marrows of her bones.

"Lucia," she began formally, "Seeker of the Unseelie Court, Princess of Fiat and Stigmata, Mistress of Slight Illusion." Her tree swallow tattoo fluttered to her throat, the wings rippling.

Her hands quivered slightly in excitement as she laid the jaguar pelt at his feet. "It would have been remiss of me to come empty handed." Indeed, Lucia sounded horrified at the thought. "So I, with some help of that darling pixie," she gave a quick glance at Tok; it was only proper that she allowed Tok to introduce herself to the king, "present to you these gifts."

Excitement crept into Lucia's voice, the lilting words just a bit higher in register than her usual voice. "And this, of course." She offered Cel the chain that was attached to the shade's choke collar. "I decorated it nicely, though you may want to make some changes." The smile on her face was luminescent. "I let it keep its tongue, if you want it to speak." Though, honestly, she was unsure whether the shade could. It did scream very nicely though. "If you think it better as some sort of rug, I can dispatch it right now."

[Tok]

She was ready to scream, cry, and kick like a spoiled child that was denied candy. The pixie wanted to tell Lucia exactly how the Shades had offended her, until a nearby civilian screamed. The shrill noise startled Tok, ringing in her ears long after the woman ran out of breath. The pixie drew a bundle of wires into her left hand in response, thinking that the Unseelie court was under attack. She fidgeted about, looking for an intruder. When she saw only guards and innocent bystanders, she slipped the wires over her hand and onto her wrist, making it appear as though some form of abstract art had taken residence upon her arm. The jackal had tried to fight its way loose during the chaos, but a swift bat to the head from the pixie rendered it unconscious.

Tok glanced at Lucia, and when she noticed that the Sidhe was not paying her any attention, she turned to look in the same direction as her superior. Immediately, the pixie found herself star-struck, unable to register that the king himself was standing before her. For a moment, she could only stare, overcome by a shortness of breath and an inability to think. It took tremendous willpower for her to tear her eyes off of Cel; partially because she would probably start drooling if she kept marveling at the man, and partially because someone had regarded her staring rude earlier in the evening. Tok could care less about what that Seelie man had thought of her, but the last person she wanted to offend was her own king. A part of her hoped that Cel did not notice, and was instead occupied by Lucia’s actions toward the Shade. Had Cel not been there, she would have cackled in delight, basking in the creature’s misery.

She simply watched and listened as Lucia introduced herself, copying the Sidhe’s every motion. When Lucia laid the pelt out, and extended the chain, Tok quickly scurried forward, righting the eagle’s cage and dragging the unconscious jackal forward and leaving it near the pelt. She curtseyed and smiled brightly when Lucia mentioned her, though she didn’t dare speak until Lucia was finished. It would be ill-mannered of her to cut off the Sidhe who had treated her so well. Tok jumped back to her place behind Lucia, stumbling a little bit as a sharp pain suddenly pulsated through her left leg. She used her wings to balance herself, revealing exactly how ruffled they had become. A few grey-blue feathers scattered about the room. She cursed at herself for being so clumsy.

She waited for Lucia to finish speaking to the king before introducing herself. The pixie was of little consequence, after all. A merry thought of a placard with the Shade’s head on it would be a magnificent decoration to her room, and she half-hoped that Cel would tell Lucia to lop its head off. Though she was standing a little bit behind Lucia, she did not move forward to speak. She simply curtsied again, ”Tok, Seeker of the Unseelie Court, Pixie Garlanger. It is an honor to be in your presence, Your Highness.”[/b] A name was all she would offer for now. She didn’t want to speak unless spoken to, and she especially didn’t want to bombard the king with her silly thoughts. Not when he looked so tired and busy. She threw in a bright and genuine smile, though, as she was proud of the assortment of alive, unconscious, dead, and nearly dead gifts.

[Saalyn]

Saalyn’s conversation with the Nimbus, Jun, was brought to an abrupt halt when a shrill cry resounded off of the stone walls of the Unseelie Court. Immediately her gray eyes had scanned the crowd of bodies, and it didn’t take long before they were trained in on what had caused the high-pitched scream. There was a small, white-haired faerie entering the room, dragging behind her what Saalyn could only presume was one of the shadow creatures that had attacked the Festival. Even the Niceven’s usually placid expression had crumbled then, a mixture of horror and disbelief briefly washing over her features, her mouth slightly agape, before she saw just where the tiny fae was leading the Shade.

When she spotted her King, Saalyn’s jaw set, her teeth chattering from the force she closed her mouth with. She had heard that he was safe from the injured faerie she had spoken with, but this was the first time she had seen Cel with her own eyes since the attack. If it were not for the Shade that was currently being brought in his direction, she likely would have felt relieved. Instead, Saalyn’s feet were moving her in his direction before she even had time to think, the movements hurried but only appearing determined to anyone who might be watching her.

By the time she approached, a conversation had already started between Cel and this mysterious, doll-like woman, but Saalyn still slipped in by her King’s side as if he had previously appeared incomplete without her there. “My Lord,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, yet still containing it’s usual assertiveness, “I thank the Fates that you are well.” She said this to him and him alone, the honesty of the statement evident in her tone, before she turned her ashen gaze upon Cel’s addressees and their capture. Her expression remained surprisingly indifferent as she considered the black creature.

“So, this is what’s responsible for causing so much suffering…” it was half a statement, half a question, though Saalyn still spoke mostly to Cel rather than the Sidhe and pixie standing before her.

OOC: Hope y'all don't mind me jumpin' on board briefly~

[King Cel]

Cel saw it the moment he looked upon Lucia: the predatory gaze only he and a few others shared. He didn’t want to say it was a rare quality, for it wasn’t, but he had yet to see such a look upon another’s face since he ascended to the throne and the last person he had beheld it in was someone who was long gone from his life. An excitement, almost like butterflies, stirred in his gut and he found himself shuffling in place before he caught himself. While some jumped as Lucia slammed the Shade’s head into the ground he chuckled in a low, throaty way. His eyes sparkled dangerously. Cel continued to narrowly gaze at the tormented Shade, excitement building inside of him as Lucia dug into its skull.

”Terrifying.” The word a mere whisper in response to her introduction, a sidhe with her mentality gifted with the power of Fiat and Stigmata. Cel glimpsed the woman in front of him with a sense of delight and hesitance. Though he understood her urges well he knew what unbridled cruelty could lead too. His mother had corralled his urges and given him the ability to channel them, from what he could see Lucia had no such training. Then again, why would she? She hadn’t been raised to be a king. The thought caused Cel to pause, for moment contemplating how terrifying it must have been for his mother to realize that such a sadistic streak ran through Cel. Her own son, a murderous sidhe with a bloodlust that was nearly unmatchable. How did Andais ever believe her son could be king?

His gaze turned back to the scene just in time to hear the pixie introduce herself. Cel collected his thoughts and bowed slightly, ”It is a please. Both of you.” He said as he took the leash, his gaze becoming transfixed on the Shade as he ignored the other gifts. Cel could feel a familiar sensation creeping into his senses. The sight of the gore in a place in a crowded place was too much for him.

It was Saalyn’s words that brought him back to reality. His gaze turned onto Saalyn, ”Likewise, it would do no one a service if the court lost its Niceven.” The words were spoken fondly. It was then it dawned on Cel what use this creature could be to him now that Saalyn was there.

He turned his gaze to the court and spoke in a loud voice, a proclamation, ”Finally we may get the answers we seek. The Niceven and I shall pry these questions from the wretched beasts tongue.” He turned his gaze to the captors of the beast, ”With the help of its captors, of course. Come to the Hall of Mortality.” He said, gesturing for Saalyn, Tok and Lucia to follow.

[Lucia]

Lucia gave Saalyn a curious, frank stare. She didn't know what to make of the newcomer who waltz into her meeting with the king, strolling to his side like she belonged there. Lucia might have nosed around Saalyn, might have touched the fae lightly, like a cat curiously batting out a paw, but then the king was speaking and her attention was arrested. Lucia gazed at him, awaiting his judgment with bated breath. She flushed in happiness at his words, and gave a quick look at Tok, feeling immensely pleased with herself, the pixie, the world at this moment.

A pleasure. Lucia's fingers tightened in her glee. The shade twitched and gave a soft, muffled sound that made Lucia rejoice even more. And the newcomer was the Niceven! A lovely, giddy feeling fluttered in Lucia's stomach and she flashed the Niceven a pure, sweet smile. "Suffering should always be repaid in kind," she murmured, the light in her eyes dancing with delight.

Then the king invited herself and Tok with him to interrogate her present and Lucia launched herself after him to the Hall of Mortality. She couldn't help but skip and twirl; at times nudging a little closer to the king, at times hovering around Tok, and lastly to prowl around the Niceven, so, so curious about the other fae. The thought of making the shade scream even more made a heady, thrilling feeling run through her and she licked her lips, smiled, and followed after her king with alacrity.

[Tok]

Tok felt herself flush at the king's words. A pleasure, he says. Happy to meet them, he says. A wave of happiness surged through her body, causing her to rise ever so slightly as she shifted her weight to her toes. She clasped her hands together in front of her chest and gave the brightest smile she could give, her happiness a reflection of Lucia's own immense satisfaction of the present. The pixie looked as though she were praying to Cel, an action that was not out of character for her.

Then there was the Niceven. Tok took note of the glow, and suppressed the urge to squeal with delight. How often was it that a garlanger was in the presence of so many members of the high court? She curtsied in Saalyn's general direction despite the lack of attention from the blonde. Tok didn't want the woman to think the pixie lacked etiquette, especially not when so many celebrities were around.

She barely listened to the king's invitation, her head swimming with grandiose hunting trips, the three Sidhe before her smiling and praising her for the massive piles of corpses she amassed. It was a far-fetched dream, brought back only by... did the king just say Hall of Mortality? She tilted her head slightly, as if she didn't understand, but followed obediently at the king's gesture. Tok took a few steps after her king, only to stop suddenly in her tracks. Did the throne room always spin so much?

She shook her head, and blinked rapidly for a while, before dashing forward to keep up. She ignored the pulsating in her leg and her arm, not wanting to miss whatever it was the king was going to do to the Shade. It would be such sweet revenge to watch the thing writhe. The pixie walked a few paces behind Saalyn, convincing herself that walking alongside would be far to bold considering her low rank. Yet, she continuously glanced at the back of the Sidhe's head. Tok wanted to pester the Niceven with questions, ask her if she liked blood half as much as Lucia did. She would open her mouth, ready to speak, only to say nothing and close it again.

[Saalyn]

Saalyn followed Cel’s order without a moment’s hesitation, falling in step behind the King with the grace of a veteran politician, although she was nowhere near being labeled as such. The Niceven couldn’t say what the man had planned for the shadow creature, but if Cel were to act on his usual impulses, it wasn’t going to be pretty.

She briefly wondered if a Shade could experience pain like any normal faerie as she glanced at the thing out of the corner of her eye. It was a horrid looking beast, the fact that it was currently covered in oozing wounds not helping the already grotesque image. Saalyn’s gaze shifted from the shadow being to the one who had captured it, and her feelings of uneasiness didn’t wane in the slightest. If she thought the Shade was awful, what could she say of the one that caught—and presumably tortured—the creature? The blonde had apparently missed the introductions of the sidhe, and the pixie that accompanied her, but whenever she found her gray eyes meeting those of either woman, Saalyn was sure to offer them a small smile that spoke nothing of her disturbed feelings about the matter.

She could understand killing one of the Shades. After all, they had attacked the Festival, and self-defense was a given in that sort of situation. But the fact that such a small faerie had managed to capture one…Saalyn didn’t want to think about what this ruby-eyed doll was capable of. No, instead her thoughts drifted to where they usually did—how this Darklings…talents could be put to use for the Unseelie. It would be wiser to have such a violent faerie as an ally rather than an enemy, she knew, and so the next time Saalyn caught the white-haired fae staring at her, she decided to engage a proper introduction.

“I wouldn’t imagine ensnaring a Shade to be an easy task,” she stated coolly, though there was a sense of legitimate awe to her tone, “Might I know the name of the brave faerie who accomplished such a feat?”

[King Cel]

The King ignored the conversation behind him as they made their way towards his personal torture chambers. While the king knew what awaited the group and their prisoner the others had no idea. Few had ever seen the inside of the Hall of Mortality and of those who did rarely spoke of what went on there. Cel’s personal torture chamber was a place only for the eyes of Cel, his inquisitor, his guard and the unlucky few who ventured there as his prisoner. The Niceven’s presence as well as the presence of two others would be the first time in ages the King had been accompanied by any others to the Hall.

As they entered they were met with a chilling cold one that was necessary to temper the harsh smell that would inevitably fill the chambers. Though a distinct odor of rotting flesh did fill the air it was definitely less noticeable due to the cold. Cel did not balk at the smell though, he was used to it.

The room was empty. The back halls of the torture chamber were where the other prisoners were kept and no torture devices decorated this room. In the center of the room was a ring of wrought iron railings. Beyond the railings the depth of which was immeasurable yet some had alleged that the whole was bottomless. Cel moved through this room relatively quickly not stopping to gaze down the hole or speak to his group, he assumed they’d just follow.

Cel brought the group to a small chamber just beyond the foyer, one that was devoid of anything except for a table with shackles attached to it. Cel nudged the Shade forth with his boot and turned to Tok, ”Chain it to the table.” The order was followed by another command, this one directed to Saalyn. ”Saalyn, once it is chained would you be so kind as to fully heal the thing? We need it at full strength so we can extract the necessary information from it.” He held onto the leash tightly, waiting to let go once the Shade was strapped down.

While he stood there, waiting to proceed he turned to Lucia, ”This Shade may tell us something useful. You have done the Unseelie a great service.”

[Lucia]

Lucia beamed at Saalyn, thrill trickling through her as she paused to hover at the Niceven's side. Her expression grew hazy as she remembered the battle and the shades, the pain of her wounds and the pleasure of the kill. She swallowed, blinked out of her memories, and fairly preened at Saalyn, her step growing just a little bit lighter than before.

"Lucia," she sang out, unable to curtsy in mid-stride and refusing to look foolish for the attempt. Instead she skipped ahead, turned around to face Saalyn, and giggled as she flourished an arm, dipping her head just the slightest bit. It lasted for perhaps half a second before she broke away and bustled near the Niceven's side, voice lowering as if confiding to the other fae, eyes laughing as she murmured conspiratorially.

"Oh no, not easy at all," she said. "They kept dying, you see. It was clumsy of me; I have not been in such a battle for a long, long time." Lucia paused then and smiled dreamily. "This one," she patted her halberd, "fairly wept in glee to see others suffer as he had." She gave the shade a dismissive glance. "They kept bleeding out, so I had to beat him to unconsciousness." Lucia brushed the back of her hand against her dress, as if wiping off the memory of broken flesh beneath her hands.

Then they entered the Hall of Mortality, and anything else Lucia may have said was swept aside by the presence of the hall. Lucia fell silent, eyes wide as she looked around, the smell nostalgic. "Oh," she whispered, "Oh."

She wanted nothing more than to explore, to climb on the railings, to lie on her belly and peer into the abyss, but her king was moving on ahead and she made herself follow him. The smaller room wasn't nearly as impressive, but that still could not quell the excitement as Lucia nestled close to Cel, anticipation racing through her. So the Niceven could heal? Small amounts of envy rose within Lucia--just think of how much longer one could prolong suffering if they had that gift! Though, given the chance, she would not trade either of her own powers for that one. Still, it would have been wondrous.

When Cel spoke, Lucia felt almost as if her heart would burst in happiness. "Anything for this beautiful court," she said, conviction in her eyes and her stance. "And it will talk," she cooed at the shade, "It will scream and it will beg. It shall tell you all that you need to know," her voice was like a blade swathed in velvet. "It will offer its own heart to you, should you so desire."

As if by her will alone the shade would spill precious secrets.

[Tok]

The pixie started fidgeting with her hands, growing restless as Cel continued to lead them towards the Hall of Mortality. She was simply not accustomed to being silent for so long, but she continued to suppress her desire to start singing a song relevant to walking for miles and winding up at doors. Tok twitched uncomfortably when Lucia stopped randomly appearing at her side, opting to talk to the Niceven instead. She would have addressed the matter under a different circumstance, but their arrival at the king’s torture chambers erased whatever slight jealousy had built up.

The smells from the room might have caused anyone else to retch. However, for Tok, she found it rather homely, taking in a few deep breaths as she glanced about the room with widened eyes. How many garlanger had the opportunity to visit the Hall of Mortality as a guest? She walked proudly after the group, feeling like the most privileged pixie in all of the Unseelie court. Tok couldn’t help but smile brightly.

The smaller room was far less impressive compared to the foyer, yet the pixie wore the same starstruck expression. The lack of decoration led Tok to believe that the most creative methods of torture would occur here, and she was eager to watch the king tear apart the Shade. Her ears perked, and she stood at full attention when Cel looked at her. She nodded as she processed his request, quickly shuffling forward towards the offensive creature. Tok yanked the Shade forward by the arm, slamming him onto the table. She didn’t hold back as she wrestled with the creature to shackle his limbs, occasionally planting her fist into his abdomen to make him cooperate. With each click of the bolt sliding into place, the pixie seemed to smile a bit more.

She had worked as quickly as she could. Once the Shade was restrained, her right hand slid under his chin, gripping onto his jaw and forcing him to make a fish face. Her smile turned sinister as she stared into his eyes. ”Be a good sport and put on a good show.” She stepped back, and turned to Saalyn, smiling sweetly at her. ”He’s all yours, Princess.” She threw in a quick bow, before walking back to her usual spot -- a few steps behind Lucia.

[Saalyn]

Saalyn’s nose twitched as she entered the torture chamber. The smell of death, although stifled by the cold, still seemed overwhelming as it wafted to her nostrils, causing her magic to stir uneasily. The whole of this place went against her very nature, even if the destruction that was wrought here was currently hidden behind closed doors. Saalyn might not be able to see it, but she could sense it. Still, the Niceven kept her expression emotionless as she moved through the room behind her King, her exhaustion lending to her lack of response exponentially.

As they made their way into the smaller room, Saalyn took note the emptiness immediately. Cel did seem to prefer a more hands-on approach to his methods, so she wasn’t exactly surprised by the lack of equipment. She also wasn’t surprised when she heard him ask for her to heal the Shade. There was no other reason why he would bring her to this place. She had followed knowing she would likely be asked exactly this, even if she loathed the idea of touching the shadow creature, of mending something that had caused her people harm. She gave her King a silent nod of acceptance nonetheless.

The mending was only so it could be broken again. Saalyn thought this as she watched the pixie locking the creature onto the table and it brought her a small amount of comfort in what she was about to do. She wasn’t helping the Shade so much as she was helping her fellow Unseelie, one just happened to lead to the other. When Tok was done, the Niceven approached the thing, watched as it struggled against the shackles that held it down. It was as if the Shade knew what was about to happen, like it would rather not feel that momentary relief knowing that only more excruciating pain was to follow. Saalyn might have felt some sympathy for the faerie if it wasn’t the abomination that it was. Instead she only regarded it with a blank stare.

Would they repeat the process more than once? This was another concern for the blonde who had already spent countless hours exhausting her Restorative Hand. She knew the monster on the table had more reason to worry than she, but Saalyn cared little for what the Shade might feel or think, if it was actually capable of doing either. No, what mattered was getting answers, and it seemed that the only way they would get any answers was for her to do what she was brought here to do.

Placing her hands over the shadow creature’s abdomen, Saalyn closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath through her nose, held it, and released it through her mouth as she lowered her palms onto the Shade’s flesh. Her body jolted immediately. She could feel her regenerative magic and she could feel the dark workings of the shadow creature—could feel how they wanted to repel one another like polar ends of a magnet. She had never experience something like this before—having her healing Hand denied by a wounded body. The repulsion only caused Saalyn to concentrate harder, trying to determine the make-up of the Shade’s body and how to repair it. It didn’t help that she despised touching the thing and the idea of aiding it in any form or fashion. The magic and her own thoughts working against her were only slowing down the process, so the Niceven pushed harder. The result was a shiver down her spine and the nauseous upheaval of bile from her stomach into her throat, but she could also sense the lacerations on the Shade’s body slowly beginning to close at their deepest levels. Her magic was finally winning the battle being waged at the cellular level.

After several minutes, it was done, and Saalyn stumbled backward away from the table, the back of her hand raised to her mouth to keep her sickness at bay. The hairs on her body were still raised—whether it was from the chill of the room or from the experience was unknown. She looked to her King, and once again gave him a wordless nod of her head to tell him she was finished as she tried to collect herself and not appear as completely pathetic as she felt.

Saalyn was unsure if she would be able to watch her work be undone by Cel or Lucia, and so she turned her head away from the Shade as she made to wipe the sweat that had collected on her brow with her forearm. “What is next?” she asked her King, meeting his gaze as strongly as her tired body was able though she honestly didn’t know whether she wanted to hear the answer or not.