Bryony’s eyes stayed glued to Story for the longest time. “I’m following quite well actually. I’m not as old as either of you. I can tell just by the way you speak about the world in the short time we’ve been together. However, I am old enough to understand what you are talking about.” She crossed her arms so she could think. “He’s been dreaming about a tree recently. It sounded like he was talking about the World Tree but there’s no way he could meet it here. I don’t know the significance of it. Mainly I don’t understand it because I didn’t want to try.” Her eyes were sad. “I don’t like the options he was talking about and maybe I am too old to put my trust completely in luck.”

Talking about Sebastian’s demise made her overly sad. Those ocean eyes were turning so slow that it looked like the water was about to pour out. She didn’t want to think about giving up on him. She would rather watch the world burn while he was at her side. That was the stubbornness talking. That was age. 

“I have no issue with going to Arri. I was mainly avoiding being on the same continent where Angela could find me. I suppose if Sebastian finds me now at least we have had time to breath about the situation.” Bryony gave Story another shrug. “Fuck if I know why they had me come get you. Getting you out was a gift from my friend here in the city. However, if you want to leave I can’t stop you nor will I try.”

When he took the pipe from her she gave a smile and laughed. “I have no problems with it.” She was quick to snatch her pipe back before taking one last drag before putting it out. She hopped off of her spot seemingly over Story with a great grace as she landed and stared into Cessair’s eyes. “You don’t have to owe me anything. It’s what I do kid.” 

She rubbed his head and smiled before thinking. “I know of a quick way to find where you belong. I mean it is a route to finding where you belong. If you land in with the right people it should be quick to find out what family you are from. If you land with the wrong person… well I pity your existence.”

With a wink, she grabbed him and opened a gate to the next continent. It wasn’t long before they were inside a bathing room with a bunch of women. They stared at them before going back to their business. “Alright kid time to shine.” It was a quick moment as she slapped his back and watched as he tumbled into the steamy water with some of Arri’s finest. 

“Isn’t that a little harsh Bry?” They were laughing. 

“Course not, find out which of the queens this little one belongs with,” Bryony smirked up at Story. “We start with them and then we work our way through the city.” The girls were gentle with the young one but they didn’t touch him. Not as much as pour flower petals all over him and just stare. After a while, the petals began to sink and finally only purple ones were left on top.  “Lucky you. You get the sane one out of the bunch.” She offered her hand to Cessair. “Cathrine will be who we are going to meet with. Toya might have beaten the shit out of you, Angela is quite busy,  Kirika’s house is full of assassins, and Lily might play matchmaker with you. Out of all of them, Cathrine is the best fit for you I think.”

Before she brought him up out of the tub she laughed, “It’s called the Paradise Ceremony. It’s normally done on babies. This is how the people of Arri find out what Court they belong to.”

"Luck, perhaps not. Fate, I trust, you understand as well as I do that it can't be fought. Feel as you do that it was this that brought the two of you together, I doubt he is going anywhere. One cannot dismiss that fate often brings others to us for a harsh lesson though, as well…"

These were Story's words before they stepped through Bryony's gate to the land of Arri. He had also voiced that he was pleased she would not impede him, despite him choosing to stay with her in the long run of things. He made no commentary as to why, other than a mere burning curiosity.

The dusty old shack was replaced with a fragrant bath house upon stepping through the gate. Story smirked when Cessair was pushed into the waters with the female attendants, watching with mild interest as he was showered with the scented water and flower petals. Some of the women of the house not attending to Cessair shot him lingering glances, despite his rough and filthy state. Story seemed to pay them no mind, however. He was more preoccupied with the bright, blistering light of the desert that poured into the house to their right.
"If it is no trouble, I would like to remain in the shade as much as possible on this venture, Bryony," he requested. "The sun is, despite my complexion…shall we say…detrimental to my constitution. I can stand it though, if need be."

Story chuckled as Cessair was pulled from the waters. "A curious divining ritual, indeed. With any luck for you, the first of many of its kind," he said to the young one with a wink.

"Do the services of this house include grooming, by chance?"

He was so lost in his thoughts that Cessair barely even noticed the transition from one place to another.  But when Bryony shoved him rather unceremonious into a pool, he snapped back to the current situation.  For a few moments he was worried about the filthy rags he had been imprisoned in.  Then he realized that the ladies in the pool had… nothing on.  Quickly, the young man squeezed his eyes shut and ducked low into the water, feeling very shy.  As a slave, Cessair had very rarely been allowed to be around females.  And these… were very attractive.  He could feel his skin heating up, which only made the ladies giggle.  If nothing else… he had to admit it felt nice to be getting clean. 

Feeling something being poured over him made Cessair pull his ears out of the water.  Then Bryony explained to Story just what was going on.  His curiosity won out, and his eyes opened, and he grinned at the ladies.  They giggled again, and moved away from him, watching the water around him as the petals swirled.  Watching the flower petals was quite interesting, and his eyes darted from them to Bryony.  Something triggered in his mind, something just beyond the tip of his tongue.  "I've seen this before… but I don't know when," he admitted quietly to Bryony when she helped him out of the pool.  The only thing he was certain of was that he had been watching and not participating.

Grabbing a towel, he made a face as he dried himself off.  "Would it be an issue to get some clothing that isn't about to fall to rags?  Though I'm sure they might enjoy it," he said, winking to the ladies in the pool.  There was something about their reaction that gave him a bit of confidence, and Cessair found himself actually looking forward to finally knowing a bit more about himself.  Perhaps there would still be disappointment, but anything had to be better than slavery.

Bryony nodded and thought about what the man needed most. “Well, Arri isn’t too much in the shade but once we get to where we need to go you should be fine. Most of the houses are well shaded.” Though if they needed to see Angela… They would cross that bridge when they got there. “You’ve probably seen it when you were small. Most children here go through it when they are babies but there are a few that are born in the desert and make their way here to have it done. It’s not completely uncommon.”

She nodded to both of them and had the girls work on helping Story and Cessair into new clothes and grooming them. “Not a problem for either of you actually. We Rosenites tend to like comfort and spoiling our guests.”

Once everyone was ready to go, Cathrine was their destination and true to her word Bryony tried to stick to the shade. It was easier to take the roundabout way to the Purple Manor. They found themselves in a vineyard and the shade was nice. There was a girl not far from them. She was leaned over and gently feeling the ground as if she were missing something. Bryony came up from behind and picked a small object up off the ground. “You should be more careful Crystaline,” Bryony’s words were soft as the girl stood up and felt out for her. Bryony moved closer so she could feel.

“Oh! Bryony, you came by? It’s been a long time. Vadi would love to see you.” 

“I’m just here to bring a few friends by to see your mother.” Bryony softly brought her over. “Story and Cessair.” Bryony introduced them but Crystaline reached out and found their faces so she could feel them.

“They’re new? Which one is Rosenite?” She ran her fingers over Cessair’s face and through his hair. 

“That’s Cessair,” Bryony said softly as Crystaline moved to Story and she felt his face. “And that is Story.” Her crystal like blue eyes stared off at them, it was clear she couldn’t see as she memorized their faces through her touch. “Now how did you lose something as small as a pendant out in the vineyard?”

“It was an accident. I normally count the poles but I missed one and tripped over it. My necklace broke and I lose it. I knew it was nearby somewhere but I would have been out here all day if it wasn’t for you.” Crystaline gave her a gentle smile as Bryony put the pendant into the girl’s hand and shut it.

“Where is your mother today?” Bryony helped her through the vineyard as they walked.

“I think she said something about the library today. It’s on the second floor.” Crystaline turned her head to where she thought the others were and smiled. “How has your stay in Arri been? What are the colors like today?”

Story's namesake clearly came from his willingness to be woven into the tapestries of other lives. He seemed more than content to silently observe every little detail of what transpired around him, with events centered on his companions. It also could have come from the eerie prior knowledge he seemed to possess of the two of them - something that was clearly not a first time occurrence, and likely earned him the moniker. What devils clearly weren't in the details were his own. No tales of his youth, or his own customs he was familiar with were offered. Only his opinions, if they were requested, or remarks on what he saw.

Placid and gracious as the women of the bath house tended to him, Story seemed far less agitated about their contact than most men would be. Perhaps women simply were not his preference? He chatted idly and confidently with them, occasionally directing them when they asked how he wanted his hair, or what scents he liked. His hair in the end was no longer matted and dreaded; neatly cropped, but still long at the top. His scraggly beard had been trimmed. In moments, he had gone from looking like some sort of crazed vagrant, to someone that had the look of an esteemed vizier, or an elder knight in arms. He left it up to the girls to choose his attire, with only a request of having something with a hood or shawl to protect from direct sun exposure.

Meeting up with Cessair, Story then found Bryony with him, and they were off once more.

Drawing up the hood of the white clerical tunic he was given, Story seemed well enough, even as they traversed the desert in the hottest part of the day. He didn't burst into flames,and he was not harmed nor slowed by the sun, so it was not really clear what he meant by his prior statements. If it caused him discomfort of some kind, he was good at hiding it.

They met with a pretty young girl, bereft of sight. This made her other senses sharper, however, and able to perceive things regular sight could not. Story knew this, because of one fleeting moment that passed between them that went unmentioned and unnoticed. As she touched his face, he felt her suddenly flinch back, whilst issuing a near-silent gasp. Whatever the girl saw, or whatever he had let her see by accident was only a leaf on the wind. She was otherwise unphased, aside from her initial reaction.

"Everything about this place is to be adored," Story commented in response to Crystaline. "I don't think I've seen so much color contained in one locale."

He lapsed into silence as they headed for the palace, brooding on what he had seen.  Cessair wasn't sure if it had been his own ritual he was remembering, or if it was someone else's.  A lost sibling perhaps.  That led down more mental pathways, wondering if he still had family, if they would know him, or if he had no close family left in the world anymore.  The streets here were beautiful, but he could not really remember them as they approached the vineyard, either from now or from his murky past.  When they arrived at the vineyard, Cessair still hadn't found an answer to his thoughts about the ritual, and he realized he wanted to walk the streets again when he wasn't wholly distracted.

There was a young woman searching through the vineyard on hands and knees, and she was using her hands rather than her eyes.  It took him a few moments, but Cessair realized that she was blind.  When the girl approached Bryony, he could tell that she had been that way for quite awhile.  Perhaps her whole life, a thought that made him sad.  Even as a slave, he had seen many wonderful things.  He couldn't help but freeze when Crystaline touched his face.  He wasn't used to being touched in a gentle way.  But if the interaction between her and Bryony was anything to go by, he would have to get used to physical gestures of affection.

Story answered the girl's question before he could, and Cessair had to agree with his answer.  "We've only just arrived.  And… I think I've been here before.  I just can't remember.  It is a truly lovely place though," Cessair said, a mournful tone to his voice.  He was growing frustrated by his memories, and sad that he had lost out on a childhood not spent in hard labor.

Crystaline thought on both of their words and a smile grew on her face. “Are they bold colors? Soft colors? Are they rigid? Are they pastel?” Her words were excited and Bryony chuckled.

“They are all of them. All over the city, there are many, many colors. From deep to soft. From rigid to pastel.” Crystaline’s smile grew as she heard it. “What is shiny like? I’ve heard that parts of the city are shiny. What is it?”

“That is when the light reflects off of things like jewels and metals. The city would certainly be considered shiny in that aspect.” Bryony walked with them and winked back at the men. “We’re meeting with Cathrine but I should tell you about the others while we are here in Arri. Each Court is responsible for something. All five Courts have a queen. She has been through a trial of some sort. Earth, Wind, Light, Darkness, and Fire are the five elements. Water is in the Oracle’s Court. Some are missing but they are filled in between all of the courts. There are other things the queens are responsible for: love, passion, purity, wisdom, and death are some of the primary things.”

“Isn’t love and passion the same thing?” Crystaline spoke up. “I’ve never asked.”

“Normally but not in this case. I suppose you could view passion as an unwavering need for something. Like a dragon to its hoard or your aunt Angela to her children.” Crystaline nodded and thought on it a bit more in silence.

As they entered the mansion it was decorated with fine paintings and pottery. It was clearly done in the eyes of someone who appreciated the arts. Books lined countless shelves around the area but it was clearly not a library. A woman in a long lilac dress came down the grand staircase. Her sun-kissed hands holding her dress so she did not fall. Her white hair was moving as if a breeze was picking the curls up and yet no breeze came. Yet when she approached there was a feeling of fresh air suddenly. Her aura was that of wind. Her gentle green eyes were settling on the visitors in her nest.

“Queen Cathrine, you look wonderful today. I have brought a stray from your herd.” Bryony bowed a bit and Cathrine looked Cessair over as if she already knew he belonged to her. The queen nodded and motioned them to the library. It was even grander than the rest of the house. Decorated in fine marble and rose gold. Paintings from all over Revaliir dotted the walls. 

There she came over to a group of scrolls. One was freshly sealed and she came over to Story with an interested look in her eyes. Her touch was soft as she brought his hands up and closed them around the scroll. In it was an odd list of people, places, and things. A vision of sorts but it pertained to the weird man who had opened her door.

Next, she looked at Cessair and nodded a bit before pulling out a set of finely made clothes and other things that the boy would need in his new home. She took his hands and put them around the batch of new things and kissed his forehead. Bryony went over and crashed in a chair. “You are unusually more quiet than you tend to be. It doesn’t fit you well.” She rolled her eyes over the white-haired queen.

Cathrine turned and looked at her shrugging just a bit before grabbing a few books. They looked like stories. It was for Crystaline and Vadimas since she knew these were the stories heavily loved by her blind daughter. “Words are not always meant to be said,” the words came through the minds of everyone who accepted them. Her voice was soft but there was a wisdom to them. “It would do you well to stop and listen to those around once in a while.” Bryony was laughing a bit.

“Coming from the woman with a vicious little sister. You should be telling her that. I’m sure Toya would flip her damn lid if you told her to be quiet.” Bryony was chuckling away as Cathrine came up behind her now and landed a book on her head. Taking it Bryony flipped through it. It was a collected book of otherworldly beings. “Thanks. Didn’t think a thing like this existed.”

“Things often exist in places you wouldn’t think to look… especially if one doesn’t understand the comforts of silence.” Cathrine turned her green gaze back to the others and others them smiles as tea was brought in for everyone.

Story was about to answer the young girl with his own descriptive powers, but was grateful when Bryony spoke for both himself and Cessair. He often tended to ramble, or use other words in conjunction with common speech when its adjectives alone would not suffice. If every being had a fistful of simple things which they could be easily enraptured by, describing and listening would be two things equally native to Story's disposition.

…And listen he did. Having lived for as long as he had, he knew a great deal about a great many things. Times, people, and places were always changing, however, so one could never stop learning. He had been aware of the Earth Mother, and the vast family ties and courts of Arri for many years. Experiencing it all first-hand was still fresh for him, for various reasons. The most obvious reason would be his apparent distaste for bright light, heat, or possibly even the arid climate. The simplest answer was that his life's journey had never previously taken him here.

"I would say love is pure and healing," Story chimed in to the conversation. "…While passion, though useful and admirable, can be dangerous, or even damaging."
There was a pause, and then he smirked rather ominously. "I would liken a dragon's hoarding more to a mere endearing compulsion than to a passion. On another note, that is interesting to know about Angela."


Story seemed to feel at home in the queen's court, shamelessly meandering off to thumb over the spines of the books that lined the shelves, and to admire the many mediums of art that dominated the space. He rejoined with them all as the queen descended from her chambers, and he issued a bow to her that would have been traditional in courts of many ages past. He was surprised, his demeanor cracking for the first time in present company when she silently touched him, and handed him a scroll. He searched the queen's eyes before opening the scroll to read what it contained. Much of his reaction was perplexed as he read, with flashes of recognition here or there. Being accustomed to convoluted details that fall into place with time, he only nodded to her. Nothing needed to be said.

Watching Catherine, Story soon became privy to the queen's gifts. He smiled as she gently tended to Cessair, and smiled even broader when he caught the title of the book she gave to Bryony, which confirmed his own visions surrounding the oracle. He was surprised by the queen once more when he heard her voice in his mind, rather than in his ears. It had been a very long time since he was around any with such gifts.

"Oui. Where love is a healer, silence is most definitely the best teacher. I can say this from experience."

Learning about the courts was interesting, and Cessair knew that he had a lot to catch up on.  He listened carefully, taking mental notes so he would not be a complete fool when he met newly found kin.  The mansion they entered was beautiful, and he couldn't keep his eyes on just one thing.  Once they reached the library, Cessair knew he looked to be a fool, staring at all the books with a dropped jaw.  He had never seen so many in one place.  But his eyes finally settled on the woman that Bryony addressed, and Cessair managed to close his mouth and drop into a bow without looking like too much of an idiot.

"T-t-thank you, my lady.  Your highness.  Queen Catherine.  I only hope I can repay your kindness," he said, stumbling over his words at the unexpected generosity, but recovering quickly.  Listening to the words both spoken and projected, Cessair found his way to an empty chair and dropped into it, feeling suddenly drained.  He was home, but he couldn't remember a single thing about it.  He was hoping that he would at least have remembered his name by now, but nothing seemed to jar it loose. 

Accepting his tea, Cessair wrestled with his words for a moment.  But he needed to get something out, and he needed some kind of an answer.  "Queen Catherine, I do not remember anything about myself for certain, up until about ten years ago.  I just know I was taken as a slave.  I… can you help me find out who my family is?  I don't even know if they are still alive though," he said, moving to take a sip of the tea.  He stared into the surface of the tea for a moment, as if seeking an answer from his reflection.  But like always, that answer never came.