Creative Corner

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/33mXUeA.png[/img] [item=crocheted tadhop hat] [size=6][font=Monotype Corsiva]Day Thirty-One[/size][/font] [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2394907/1][size=4][font=Garamond]Front Page[/font][/size][/url] ----- [size=3][font=Garamond]Pinglist: @FrostStrix @Amphithere @Spottedleaf125 @Aetherstorm @Digimon11 @Solaristigres [/size][/font] ----- [size=4][font=Garamond]The morning brought frost, spread over the grass of the fields like glittering jewels, on the rooftops like chill blankets, and on the window panes in beautiful patterns. Sylph stood by one of the frosted windows, feeling frustrated. The unsuspected attack and Morrow's injury had delayed her long enough that the backup plans would be kicking in. All of the work she wanted to do with her own hands was being done by another. Letting out a heavy sigh that fogged the glass, she turned to look at the dragon laying in the bed behind her. It wasn't a life-threatening wound, but paired with shock, it had kept him under the whole next day. She turned back to look out into the busy street, watching people running to and fro, carrying out their lives as normal. It was a long time since Sylph had done anything of that sort. She was far from innocent now. She stood for a while, thinking, until she heard a raspy voice behind her. "How long have I been out?" Morrow was awake. Sylph walked to his bedside, resting a hand on his shoulder to stop him from struggling up. "Only a day," she responded. "Do you feel better now?" "Well, my shoulder still stings--" "I mean about the shock," she snapped, patience thinning. Morrow blinked at her, then seemed to finally register what she was talking about. "Oh. I guess I feel better about it." It didn't sound very convincing. And as Sylph watched him, she noticed how his eyes held pain, shoulders slumped. Letting go of her anger, she sat down on the edge of the bed. "It's hard the first time you kill," she murmured. "I think that's rather obvious, though. The best thing to do is not let yourself think about it. Push any guilt into the farthest part of your mind and ignore it. Over time, you'll forget about it altogether." "How can I forget that I took a life?" He asked. Sylph rolled her eyes. "I mean the guilt, idiot. You don't ever forget that you've stolen the life of another. Never," she whispered. Shadowy memories arose unbidden, bringing real-life nightmares back to her consciousness. "Sylph?" "What?" She said sharply, glancing over at Morrow. "You okay?" "Why wouldn't I be? I'm not the one that got shot," she retorted irritably. "You just had a strange look on your face, that's all," he muttered, beginning to pick at the bandage on his arm. Sylph swatted his hand away. "Don't mess it up," she said. In the moment when neither said anything, Sylph was tempted to tell him about the things she'd done. She had lied. The guilt always was with you, going unforgotten until you yourself passed away. Morrow would understand that one day, but not right now, when he was so new to the twisted world that Sylph had grown so used to. Yet still she hesitated. "When are we going?" He asked. "My shoulder feels fine, really. Do you think we could leave in the morning?" For a moment she sat there, staring at him, and then started and realized she needed to answer. "Yes, we will, unless you need more rest. At this point, others in my organization will have started running things in my absence, so we don't need to rush anymore." Morrow blinked at her, seeming surprised by what she said. Sylph supposed it didn't really match up with her character that well, and stood. "But that doesn't mean will; we'll leave by tomorrow night at the latest. I don't want to dally long, its just a shallow wound. Get some rest, you'll want it." She turned and didn't even wait for Morrow's response, and walked out of the room. [/size][/font] ----- My weekend was taken up by moving my grandad down here, my duck hatching 25 ducklings, one of which now has a sprained ankle that I've been stressing about. That's why I haven't updated, but I should get back into it now. Ducklings! https://imgur.com/lLNB2np [size=5][font=Monotype Corsiva]Next[/size][/font]

@FrostStrix @Amphithere @Spottedleaf125 @Aetherstorm @Digimon11 @Solaristigres Sorry for the double ping today everybody, but I actually decided to put some effort into drawing one of my characters from here. I've just had a very long day dealing with sick ducklings and so I needed the relaxation I guess... The words are part of a song that I have just realized is now Grace and Vian's theme, but its too spoilery to show you guys, so you'll just have to wait. ;) (But of course, some of you may have already heard this song and so recognize it, and if so, then I guess you might be confused. It mostly hints at spoilers anyways.) As you can tell, its our girl Grace! [img]https://imgur.com/QbWzu1r.png[/img] [s]Am I evil to admit my goal for this story is to make you guys cry?[/s]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/33mXUeA.png[/img] [item=serrated pilco shell] [size=6][font=Monotype Corsiva]Day Thirty-Two[/size][/font] [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2394907/1][size=4][font=Garamond]Front Page[/font][/size][/url] ----- [size=3][font=Garamond]Pinglist: @FrostStrix @Amphithere @Spottedleaf125 @Aetherstorm @Digimon11 @Solaristigres [/size][/font] ----- [size=4][font=Garamond]When Morrow awoke, he felt pain. His shoulder throbbed with a dull ache, and there was a deeper kind of pain deep within. He had killed, and as Sylph had said, he would not forget it. He was determined to remain strong, and so he stood and ignored the twinge in his wound. He would forget that guilt. He would not succumb to the emotions writhing inside his heart, instead, he used it as fuel for himself. It would be a long, cold day of travelling. When Morrow stepped outside and saw Sylph, he began to doubt his firm thoughts upon waking. He sensed she had her own demons tucked away, and it sounded as if she had nearly told him about them the morning before. She had walked away before he had a chance to try to talk to her, however, and he decided it would be best to give the prickly dragon her space. "There you are," she said, shrugging of the wall she had been leaning against. "I see you got us some new gear," he commented, nodding to the packs resting at Sylph's feet. "Yeah. You good for flying today?" She asked. "I'll have to be," he told her. Morrow thought back to her strangely soft comment during their conversation the day before, when she had almost sounded as if she cared about his well being. That wasn't the Sylph he had grown used to. She was harsh and stuck to her schedule, stars above, it was probably the only thing she cared about. Sylph nodded, then shouldered both packs. She spread her wings as if to take off, but Morrow stopped her. "That's got to be heavy," he told her. "I can carry one." She gave him a blank look. "You got shot by an arrow, do you really think you can carry a pack and fly with a wound like that? You'll slow us down." "You're weighed down with both packs, Sylph. Either way, we're going to go slower. Just accept it, and let me take the smaller of the two," he argued, grabbing the straps of one of the sacks. Sylph frowned, but slid it off her shoulder and handed it to him. "Cause me so much trouble," she grumbled under her breath. As Morrow shrugged the pack onto his good shoulder, she jumped into the air and flew off. He followed, gritting his teeth against the strain of not only his load, but at the pain that rippled through his wound as his wings flapped. He struggled to catch up with her, and she glanced over her shoulder. "You good?" Sylph called. "Fine," he yelled back. "Better keep up," she said. Morrow rolled his eyes, diving after her as she flew away. [/size][/font] ----- I survived Infinity War guys! Though to be fair, I did let my sister spoil all the deaths for me. Otherwise I probably would've been a sobbing mess in the theaters as I had to watch my favorite character die. [size=5][font=Monotype Corsiva]Next[/size][/font]

Oh man I so want to watch infinty war! though I did read an article with the deaths in it so I know and I want to ask who your favorite is sooooo badly but dont want you to spoil things for others

@Solaristigres
It was really good! I'm not a huge Marvel fan, but I do really enjoy them. c: I could put my favorite character in a spoiler thingy I guess, lol, if I can remember the code.

My fav is Bucky...It's just not fair that he died :(

Who is your favorite character?

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/33mXUeA.png[/img] [item=birch logs] [size=6][font=Monotype Corsiva]Day Thirty-Three[/size][/font] [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2394907/1][size=4][font=Garamond]Front Page[/font][/size][/url] ----- [size=3][font=Garamond]Pinglist: @FrostStrix @Amphithere @Spottedleaf125 @Aetherstorm @Digimon11 @Solaristigres [/size][/font] ----- [size=4][font=Garamond]Sylph stared up at the stars, snow gently falling around her. Here, so far from the citadel, the heavens didn't glow. Strangely, she felt an emptiness in her when she couldn't see the gentle starlight lighting up the world around her. "Morrow?" She asked, turning around. The dragon was still awake, leaning against a tree and watching the small fire they had built. He looked up at her. "Why do the stars not glow here?" "What do you mean by that?" He asked. "At the citadel, in the Blessed Vale, the stars glowed. They gave more light than even the moon. Why is that so? They do not shine anywhere else--even if we're still in the Land of Light," she told him. "It's because Starlight has blessed the citadel and its valley, and so the stars shine for us. They don't do that anywhere else because they haven't been blessed," he said, craning his head to look up into the heavens. "How is that possible?" She whispered, sitting down next to him. "I don't know, it just is," Morrow said, shrugging his good shoulder. "The sky does look strange, though. I've never been away from the citadel." "Yeah," she agreed quietly. "There's more to you Sylph, isn't there?" He asked suddenly. "On one hand, you seem so professional and cold. On the the other, it feels as if there's someone different within you." She stared at him, shocked by the question. It hit uncomfortably to the truth, although Sylph doubted it went in the way Morrow was guessing at. "It doesn't matter," she told him. "We all have hidden sides, do we not?" "Everyone matters," he murmured, glancing over and catching her eye. "I was just curious, Sylph. I'm not trying to pry." "Don't be," she said. "There's nothing special about me, Morrow. Keep your distance, okay? I don't like even curious questions." He looked at her for a moment, then slowly nodded. "If you say so." "I say so," she growled, standing. "You get some rest, I'll keep watch. We need to move quickly and you won't be any use of me if you don't take care of that wound." She left the fire and Morrow to look for a suitable place to watch from. --- "Up!" Sylph roughly shoved Morrow on his un-wounded side, throwing down his portion of their food supplies onto his stomach. Morrow groaned and sat up slowly, wincing and rubbing his shoulder. "Alright, alright," he grumbled. She dug out a roll of bandages from her pack and knelt next to his side as he began to eat, using one claw to rip through the old ones. Morrow snapped at her, jerking away. "Can you be any gentler?" He growled. "Oh, you're fine," she said, pulling off the old wrappings. She inspected the wound, which was healing without any infection. She was glad for that. Sylph had probably been pushing them too hard, but she was already severely delayed. She didn't want to be any later, if she could help it. After wrapping up his arm, she shrugged on her pack and led the way as they flew from their resting spot. [/size][/font] ----- I feel like these last few days have been trashy writing, but I'm trying to get back into it. I know I'm kind of dragging right now, but things'll start picking up in the next few updates, and I'll see if we can get into part two soon. Editing later. [size=5][font=Monotype Corsiva]Next[/size][/font]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/33mXUeA.png[/img] [item=clown charger fin] [size=6][font=Monotype Corsiva]Day Thirty-Four[/size][/font] [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2394907/1][size=4][font=Garamond]Front Page[/font][/size][/url] ----- [size=3][font=Garamond]Pinglist: @FrostStrix @Amphithere @Spottedleaf125 @Aetherstorm @Digimon11 @Solaristigres [/size][/font] ----- [size=4][font=Garamond]"Come on, Grace, just this once?" Vian grinned and grabbed Grace's hand, attempting to drag her toward the door. "Alright, alright! I'll go once to your worship session, if only you won't rip my arm off," she joked, laughing. "Once is all it takes," he promised, letting go and opening the door for her. "You'll see Starlight's goodness, and with time, learn to trust her. Grace nodded along with his words, but she still held doubts. Coming from a place where the sun was their only god, it felt strange to instead worship the stars. It felt wrong. The stars did not give her warmth or life, nor did they sustain things that dragons needed. But hadn't she turned her back on the sun over a year ago? It had failed time and again to help Grace, letting dragons freeze and crops succumb to frost. She had never much hope in the sun, anyways. "Don't think you can convert me so fast," she warned Vian as they walked down the street. Other dragons were heading in the same direction, toward the temple. Grace wondered if there were any non-believers of Starlight in the citadel, besides--perhaps--a few foreigners like herself. "I know," he said. "Grace...I never asked. But do you have another god or goddess you worship?" Vian stopped looking at her as if he had never thought about it before. Grace hesitated, wondering if her friend would be curious about her people's rituals concerning the sun. "No," she shook her head. "I don't." Not anymore. "Okay, good. I never thought that you might not be interested in Starlight because of other deities," he muttered, continuing on. "It's alright, Vian. My people in the Land of Ice have never really been religious," she assured him. They had never been very religious--not until the snow began to pile, blizzards happened every other night, and their children began to freeze. They at last reached the temple, where dragons were filing in for the evening's public worship time. Grace looked around the interior, fascinated with the intricate designs that were worked into the stone. So many stars were etched everywhere, along with swirls and statues of a willowy dragon with flowing robes. Starlight. She was so caught up in admiring the beauty of the temple that she didn't hear Vian until he grabbed her arm roughly. "Grace." "What?" She asked, glancing at him. His golden eyes were worried, a frown visible on his face. "Something is wrong," he whispered, keeping his grip on her and dragging them through the crowded center isle. That was when she looked ahead and realized there was something large covering the raised platform overlooking the rows of stone pews. It was a coffin. "Please, everyone take your seats and remain silent!" A loud voice echoed through the cavernous room, making Grace jump. A priest in long, flowing silver and green robes had entered the platform through a side room. It took several minutes for the crowd to get settled down, and during that time, more priests came to and from the back doors. They eventually lined up alongside the coffin, and an ornately dressed priest walked down the center isle, causing a hush to spread over the seated dragons. "Starlight's children," he said, voice just loud enough to let the acoustics draw it around the room. "Hearts that beat with the One Heart, today I bring you grave news. Our high priest Yuiv's spirit has ascended to the heavens late last night, chosen to shine forever more upon us--Starlight's children, the bodies that harbor the love of Starlight's Love." At his words, the whole room erupted into upset muttering, and a few wails even arose. The other priests tried to calm them, but the speaker's next words were the ones that quieted the crowd. "We mustn't be grieved for our brother; he has found his constellation and will shine brightly for all eternity," he said. Grace noticed that his words shook ever so slightly, and his eyes darted around. Upset, nervous. It probably was a hard job, having to relay this message to the people. "In the next few days a new high priest shall be anointed, further information will be released tomorrow evening in lieu of the normal worship service. May the stars shine brightly upon you all." He bowed, and then left the room. The other priests began to call out orders, but Grace ignored them and tapped Vian's shoulder. He glanced at her questioningly. "What was the high priest sick with? This is unfortunate that he has passed," she whispered to him. "I don't know, Grace," he muttered, leaning closer so they could hear each other. "It's upsetting--High Priest Yuiv was an amazing dragon. His loss will be felt throughout the whole citadel." "I'm sorry to hear," she said, looking back up at the coffin. She had seen so much death in her life, that the sight did not upset her. Grace almost wished she could feel sad, but it eluded her. [/size][/font] ----- I'm really getting angry at Pinkerton for not giving me a familiar yet. I've been dying to draw Sylph, but since I haven't gotten her a canon dragon image yet on here, I can't. I'm trying my best to be a good pinkerlocker and not rush ahead of things, but man. It's hard. [size=5][font=Monotype Corsiva]Next[/size][/font]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/33mXUeA.png[/img] [item=moth-eaten mith doll] [size=6][font=Monotype Corsiva]Day Thirty-Five[/size][/font] [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2394907/1][size=4][font=Garamond]Front Page[/font][/size][/url] ----- [size=3][font=Garamond]Pinglist: @FrostStrix @Amphithere @Spottedleaf125 @Aetherstorm @Digimon11 @Solaristigres [/size][/font] ----- [size=4][font=Garamond]It took three days to reach the training camp, and during that time, Morrow's shoulder got worse instead of better. The strain was too much, but Sylph did not let him stop. They were approaching the sunken valley that the base was located at when Morrow's vision began to swirl. Dizziness overtook him, and he began to drift from Sylph. He shook his head, heart jumping in panic as his wings faltered. He flapped them to keep adrift, blinking against his suddenly fuzzy vision. He dropped even further. "Sylph..." he whispered. He felt the wind rushing around him, but couldn't see. His vision went black. --- "Did you say something?" Sylph turned around, and panic bloomed thick and heavy as she saw Morrow drop from the sky. He tumbled, wings becoming a tangle, pack slipping off his shoulder to plummet even faster toward the ground. She dove toward him, the wind turning into a sudden roar as she slowly picked up speed. Morrow still looked too far away. Sylph grit her teeth and raced after him, hands stretching out, whispering to herself over and over. "Don't die, don't die, don't die." Her own foolishness made this happen. She should have never pushed him so hard. The ground was coming up startlingly fast, trees becoming detailed, the grass no longer a flat slate of green. Morrow's pale eyes were closed, and as he turned in the air, she saw a harsh flash of red. His wound had reopened. Sylph strained, reaching desperately for him. Morrow's fingers brushed against her own, but gravity continued to pull him away from her. Tears were flicked away from the corners of her eyes as she stretched her arm as far as it could go. Then his hand was tossed up by the air buffeting them, and she was able to take a hold of his wrist. A roar burst from her mouth as she pulled up sharply, but it wasn't enough. They still fell, and so she grabbed Morrow's other arm and yanked as hard as she could. Her muscles burned, her wings were a numb sense of aching pain, but their descent slowed. With another long growl, she managed to get herself flying parallel to the ground, which was only a few hundred feet below her. Completely spent, Sylph couldn't do anything as they crashed into the ground after a slow decline. Her vision spotted with black stars and pain erupted across her whole body as she was flung across the grass, Morrow's limbs and wings becoming entangled in her own. Once they stopped, she simply laid there, panting heavily. She shook like a newly hatched child, muscles burning like a raging fire. Tears that Sylph hardly felt rolled down her cheeks, dripping down into the ground beneath her. Shakily, she forced herself up and dared to look at Morrow. He was breathing, at least. Sylph heaved out a sigh, then crawled over to him and checked his shoulder. It was hot to the touch and bloodied, the bandages a mess. "Oh Morrow, I'm so sorry," she whispered in a ragged voice. She pulled off her pack and redid his bandages, applying pressure to stop the slow bleeding. It eventually stanched, and so she wrapped it up with some of the salve she had left. Sylph then went looking for a river, finding the one she knew was there. She was silently thankful that Morrow had collapsed right near the training camp. It'd make it easier to care for him. She sloshed water into a half-empty canteen, then wet her blanket down and brought it back to where Morrow lay. She cleaned up the scrapes and cuts he got during the crash landing, then bandaged the worse of them. She ignored her own bleeding lacerations. Exhausted, Sylph finally slumped down next to her companion. His breathing had steadied, but it was clear that he burned with fever. She needed to get to her dragons in the camp, but she was so tired. Sylph could barely keep her eyes open, and the shaking hadn't stopped. "I was wrong to do as I did," she murmured, reaching out to lay a hand on Morrow's forehead. "But I'm not compassionate like you, nor am I a good dragon. I only think about myself. I'm selfish, Morrow. I'm selfish..." Sylph couldn't keep herself awake any longer, and collapsed. [/size][/font] ----- I'm being lazy again and editing this later, guys. [size=5][font=Monotype Corsiva]Next[/size][/font]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/33mXUeA.png[/img] [item=maple leaf] [size=6][font=Monotype Corsiva]Day Thirty-Six[/size][/font] [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2394907/1][size=4][font=Garamond]Front Page[/font][/size][/url] ----- [size=3][font=Garamond]Pinglist: @FrostStrix @Amphithere @Spottedleaf125 @Aetherstorm @Digimon11 @Solaristigres [/size][/font] ----- [size=4][font=Garamond]The world was a foggy blur of colors, and it took Sylph a few moments to place where she was. She scrambled dizzily to her feet, for a moment panicking. Then she remembered nearly crashing and barely saving Morrow from death. Sylph knelt onto the ground and checked Morrow's wound. It hadn't changed from the last time she had seen it. She stood up, clenching her fists against the grass and growling. Her reaction to their fall had been pathetic; it had been a long time since she had lost control of her emotions like that. "I can't be that dragon anymore," she whispered to herself. That was the child Sylph, not the adult Sylph. And Morrow was only another tool in her bag, she shouldn't have gotten so frightened about his fall. Sure, it would have meant a waste of her time, but sometimes she had to take her losses in stride. [i]Is that really how you think of another living being?[/i] She thought. Sylph gritted her teeth, shaking her head. "Enough," she snarled. "Enough of this foolishness. I have made my decision." The compassionate Sylph vanished, and the assassin slipped back into her role. She took to the air, flying toward the base. It was bad enough that she was having troubling thoughts again, and that didn't include Morrow's life in the balance. "It'll be bad, Lady Sylph. At least a few weeks before he can begin training. Do you want us to transfer him to the nearest town once he's stable, or do you still see value in him to wait?" "Leave him here," Sylph told the healer. "I want his sword skills. It won't hurt my cause to wait a little while for one more fighter to join." She walked away, out of the healer's tent and into the main bustle of activity. Children ran back and forth carrying messages, while others off duty lounged around fires. Most dragons trained in the distance; about a dozen ran through a haphazard-looking course set up in a lightly wooded valley. Sylph had established all of this. She had close to three dozen spies, some in training, others already skilled. A handful of them had also been trained as assassins, by Sylph herself. These were her commanders and leaders who helped run the operation. All of this for immortality. She was ready to sacrifice all her dragons if it meant she could seize The Last Immortal and claim the prize for herself. Morrow's face suddenly flashed through Sylph's mind, pale eyes bright, freckled cheeks stretching to show a toothy grin. And then his face as he fell, eyes closed and traces of pain etched across it. It made guilt ripple through her like a stone being dropped in a pond, and Sylph hated it. She strode off, past curious dragons who glanced at her, until she was all alone in the thick of the forest. There she paused, placing a hand on a tree, and leaned her forehead against the rough bark. "Get a hold of yourself," she gritted out. "You are a skilled assassin, one of the best in the world. You chase the goddess, seeking out immortality. You will be the last immortal. Not this dragon that the rumors claim to be. But someone to actually revere." The words were hardly a comfort, but it was enough to let her focus shift. Sylph began to think of the things she'd dream of when she was younger and still in training. Glory for ever and ever. Loved and feared throughout the lands. Sylphen. A name that would rival the gods and goddesses themselves. "I want it," she said. "I want it." [i]No you don't. This is not you.[/i] No, it was her. And she would have what she wanted. [/size][/font] ----- I'm putting up vintage Breyer horse models on Ebay and my hand accidentally slipped and now I found another model for a good price that I want for my show string...Yikes. One day I'll get around to polishing up these last few updates. Lol. [size=5][font=Monotype Corsiva]Next[/size][/font]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/33mXUeA.png[/img] [item=vibrant rogue gloves] [size=6][font=Monotype Corsiva]Day Thirty-Seven[/size][/font] [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2394907/1][size=4][font=Garamond]Front Page[/font][/size][/url] ----- [size=3][font=Garamond]Pinglist: @FrostStrix @Amphithere @Spottedleaf125 @Aetherstorm @Digimon11 @Solaristigres [/size][/font] ----- [size=4][font=Garamond]Grace pushed her way through the market, where dragons were thick and pressed elbow-to-elbow. It was the worst time to come, but she had anyways. "People of the Citadel!" A loud voice rang out over the low drone of chatter, causing her to pause and glance toward the source. A thick, heavy dragon stood on top of a crate. Many stopped like Grace, and a few even gathered around the stranger. "I come to you before the dawn, when the light will come. The death of your high priest is no mere coincidence: it is a sign. It shows that Starlight's reign as your goddess is over, and you no longer need to live suppressed under her strict rules," the dragon cried, waving a hand dramatically. "We aren't suppressed under Starlight and her Heart!" A voice spoke up from the crowd, sounding angry. Grace glanced around, alarmed by the large dragon's speech. "Perhaps so, but you do not realize what freedom you can have when you can leave this supposed goddess behind," the speaker said calmly. A few others began to yell out against him, arguing the points he had made. Grace took a step backward as the crowd began to stir, but found herself pinned in. "Listen to what I have to say!" The dragon on the box shouted. "Do you not find the coming of a king strange? It is symbolism that change is coming, and it is a good dawn that rises upon you. Two leaders cannot survive and rule together. One must step down. Your high priest fell ill, a sign from the stars above that Starlight is no longer a goddess." Angry shouting began to arise, but Grace was surprised to find more than a few dragons standing quietly, a couple nodding subtly. "So the stars can be gods, but not Starlight?" One dragon's voice rose above the others. "Yes. Starlight was created by mortals like me and you, but the stars themselves decree everything. They overlook all. [i]They[/i] are the ones you should solely be worshiping, not one star singled out!" The speaker answered. His eyes were bright with passion, and he stared down at them all with a hunger. It chilled Grace in a way she couldn't understand. She needed to go. Grace had heard whispers from those in the inn that heretics were rising after the death of the high priest, but hearing one unsettled her. Vian would be very unhappy that someone was speaking out against his goddess. She turned and began to push herself through the crowd, earning a few rude remarks and gasps as she hurried away. Grace almost ran back to the inn, and nearly ran into Vian on the staircase. "Grace! What's the rush?" He asked, lurching back and tripping on one of the steps. "We need to talk," she muttered, pushing past her friend. She shoved open her door, Vian following curiously. "Have you heard about the heretics?" Grace asked him, setting her few items bought in the market onto a chair. "Well, yes. Apparently there are a few that speak out against Starlight and her priests," he said, confused. "I just heard one in the market, Vian. I mean...from my viewpoint, his points were actually reasonable. But trying to turn the whole crowd from Starlight? That felt odd," she said. "It is odd, Grace," Vian said softly, turning to the window. "There have been those who speak publicly against Starlight, but in the actual citadel? Practically unheard of." "So...Something serious is happening?" She asked tentatively. "I don't know," Vian said, throwing his hands into the air. "It could be anything. We'll have to see if it gets bad enough that the king has to say something. If he says something." "You promised to give King Cyn a chance to prove himself," Grace warned. "I know, and I will, Grace," he assured her. "I just wonder..." "Wonder what?" "Will King Cyn care about what happens to the church and its priests? If these heretics manage to actually cause trouble, it could be a serious problem," he murmured. "If that happens, we'll leave," Grace said, reaching out and placing her hand on his arm. "I don't want either of us being near danger." "Alright," he agreed quietly, and placed his hand on top of hers. [/size][/font] ----- I'm still waiting for that familiar. [size=5][font=Monotype Corsiva]Next[/size][/font]