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[center][img]http://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/163712/16371166p.png[/img][/center] "Did you hear something?" Cherry asks, peeking out from behind the stall where she had been retrieving the book. Another hour has probably passed, she realizes. "This could be helpful, I suppose... It's sorta scuffy... but that just means it's old, right?" Everything about Canker seemed old. Carefully, [b]Cherry leafs through the old book[/b].

[rule] [center][img]http://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/340092/34009174p.png[/img][/center] [rule] [font=century][size=4]Apollo carefully considered the fork in the burrows, feeling his scales shake slightly. [b]After much indecision, he chose the larger path.[/b] [rule]

[center][img]http://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/163712/16371166p.png[/img][/center] "Wow, this book has...seen better days." Referring to the table of contents in the book, [b]Cherry carefully tries to find page 10[/b].

[img]http://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/298898/29889780p.png[/img] [size=2]The appearance of the Imperial, Whiterot, had thrown her off. She didn't know what to make of her, and had gone to find a spot where she could examine the clues she had already found instead. Adony itched to go back to the shack and try to find the second key that opened the chest, but she felt like that was a lost cause now. Her frame stretched out before curling up on itself once more in indecision. With a sigh, she noted some of the other dragons examining festival stalls, and went to join them.[/size]

[img]http://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/298898/29889780p.png[/img] [size=2]She knew that given their circumstances she shouldn't be enjoying herself, and she wasn't. Adony couldn't deny there wasn't a certain charm to these vendors stalls, though. She took note of the other dragons once more, seeing them already visit a few of the stalls. Her gaze settled on Roasted Delights. There was a rumble in her stomach reminding her that she was hungry. Not that she would eat anything offered, but she went to check out the Roasted Delights stall.[/size]

[img]http://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/298898/29889780p.png[/img] [size=2]There didn't seem to be all that much to this stall, though it did boast about selling a lot. She was about to abandon it to check out another stall when something among all the advertisements caught her eye. A small picture of a Fae. A thoughtful look formed as she picked it up to take a closer look. Missing. Did it have anything to do with the group that was rumored to have been here before? Or perhaps it had something to do with the Harvestman itself. Her nails clicked together in contemplation. Still holding the piece of paper, she moved on to the Fortunes stall.[/size]

@KawaiiFlyer @mason107 @PearlSoulWorld @Eskiwen @SheepyPeanut @ScarletTheDragon @KingTiberius @BerryBagel @TheElfDruid @Elthemar @Cognitive @ophician @Lummox @o0cosmiclatte0o [center][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/321338/32133779_350.png[/img][/center] [center][color= 2F4F4F][size= 6]I of Leather, Crest, and Feather[/size] Frosted, having given up on the roof, returns to check on the ice he laid only to find it has already melted into the still intact Tower floor. He puzzles over this for a time, descending the spiraling stairs to discover his own miscalculation: that section has been caved in below, forming an impenetrable, supportive mound of rubble. [b]"I was sure that was going to work,"[/b] he growls, wings twitching in irritation, [b]"I feel like there has to be something else in this tower. All that searching and I don't know if I'm any closer to figuring this out..."[/b] He paces between the piles of rubble, clicking his tongue in thought. Certain that if he is clever enough-- if he approaches these setbacks from the right angle-- he will Survive. [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wj5zJas4ykY]The Crumbling Tower[/url] is empty. And, while there are spots of something dark and dried around Nephili's chest, Frosted cannot see anyone else besides him on The First Floor. Not his companions or their inevitable remains. Not even the ghosts. He steps into a patch of moonlight, looking down as his back claws strike something sticking up from the ground. Frosted mutters under his breath but turns to see an uncovered brass handle protruding from the floor. It looks almost like... a doorknob? He move towards it, recognizing some of Galena's fur cape shed around the clear indent of a large, metal door built into the ground. [b]"So that was why she was moving all that rubble,"[/b] he says, not noticing the ripple of a body across the path of moonlight, [b]"If she'd only told me I could have--"[/b] But what he could have done is cut short, for the Skydancer hears the creak of metallic wings and looks up to see The Harvestman hovering above him. [i]FrostedBerries,[/i] it sings, so low and sad and enchanting. [b]"No wait--"[/b] he stumbles backwards over one of the many fallen stones and scrabbles in the rubble, trying frantically to right himself. The Harvetman dips low, circling around him until its hollow eyes meet his, darting, terrified ones. [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IeaVF5LWtzo]And then he starts to scream-- struggling as the claws slip and slit and stretch.[/url] Kicking up dust and debris until his cries fade into the sounds of The Night. ----- [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/574/57335_350.png[/img] She sets down the note with a sigh-- Another dead end, or at least one that will not lead her closer to the secrets of Canker and The Harvestman. Ceridwen moves towards The Little Widdler, struck by the intensity of the largest, uncovered piece. Just what kind of dragon looks like...[i] that[/i]? She is about to turn back to the where the Coatl was, when she hears someone screaming in the wheat... Silver? Ceri takes a deep breath, feeling the wind in her feathers as she begins to gather up the deepest part of her magic. The dead leaves at her feet swirl and shift-- the earth spirals up around her. And with her eyes flashing, the Matriarch disappears into the maze of wheat. The furrows tempt her with lefts and rights-- the stalks slash at her sagely apparel-- but the Skydancer charges ahead. The wind may not sing here, but she can still use the paths that it chooses as her own... And it takes her to the source of the sounds, despite how long it has been since the Nocturne stopped screaming: Silver's body looks so odd and fragile in the moonlight, but Ceridwen has known the appearance of death before and, rather than drop her guard, she whispers in her monotone, [b]"I'm sorry, I was too late to save you..."[/b] then, louder, her feathery crests flaring, she addresses the dark shapes gathering behind her, [b]"Come out and fight me, instead of skulking back there-- I want to see your faces before I bash them into the ground."[/b] And slow and singing, The Harvest Touched oblige her. She examines each of them as they begin to circle her-- their voices weaving together in unison. Ceridwen is unmoved. She does not hate them-- these actions are not their own-- but she does not fear them either, now that they have been revealed to her. [b]"I didn't want to believe it, but... I am sorry, now, that I didn't set you on fire when I had the chance. I thought there would be a better way but now it seems--"[/b] The smallest of them lashes their long, twisting tail and dives for her ankles, but Ceridwen leaps back, carried by a gust of chilly Autumn air. She moves to retaliate-- trying to unbalance the largest of them but does not notice the third crouched behind her... The Harvest Touched springs, pinning the Skydancer's body easily with their own-- looking down at her as their jaw open and closes almost mechanically to the words of the song: [i]The Night is Long, The Wheat is Grown The Ends you've made to you've been shown...[/i] Ceridwen is not as young as she once was, but she does not fear what is coming. She has too much pride in how much she has survived before this-- in the Clan she leaves behind. She lashes out at the beady eyes, at the reaching claws-- keeping her attackers from tearing into her despite her exposed belly. But Ceridwen is not as young as she once was. She cannot hold back the blows or the regret that spills over as her blood splatters across Silver's limp body. [i]I wish I could have done more...[/i] The world around her seems... insignificant, as if she is slowly pulling back from it. But she cannot feel anything besides the numbing buzz of her own dying thoughts. [i]Saved more of them-- Been killed instead of them... [/i] How tiny she feels in that moment-- like she is being submerged in some muffling, invisible liquid. And, through the silence that has flooded her senses she thinks she can hear the wind... calling her... Ceridwen tries-- ----- FrostedBerries was given a [b]Maple Leaf[/b] Ceridwen was given the [b]Firestarter.[/b] There are [b]3[/b] clues in this story.

[img]http://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/298898/29889780p.png[/img] [size=2]This stall had a magical air to it, and magic was something she could understand. It was something she had studied for years, after all, and its very mark was left upon her. She hesitated some at the note left by the vendor. Would it be better to sit here and wait? No, there was a chance the vendor would not return at all, and she might meet the same fate as some of her unfortunate companions had. A slight shiver ran through her frame at the thought. She did pause to examine the paraphernalia, though, in particular the Tarot Cards.[/size]

[img]http://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/298898/29889780p.png[/img] [size=2]The Tree of Life? Adony recalled something about a garden of life being mentioned earlier. She had to think there was some connection involved. So far this location had reeked of death. Was there life to be found somewhere? Or perhaps the note was suggesting a card in particular. Adony wasn't familiar with the stack of cards, nor Tarot in general much to her chagrin. Just in case, she searched through the deck to see if there was a card matching the Tree of Life.[/size]