Open Chronicles Come One, Come All

[Leyus]

Leyus was, most probably, at the lowest point of his life so far. He was in a cage. And, no, not the metaphorical one that somebody could put around themselves for whatever reason, he was in proper, real and tangible cage. Like the ones made from steel, locked with magical keys and almost impossible to break from the inside. Well, perhaps, if he was a magician with a thousand of tricks upon his sleeve, he might have stood the chance. But picking magical locks was most certainly not his specialty.

So he was stuck in the cage, and it was really quite cold and dreadful there. He couldn't even lay down properly, not to speak about doing anything more radical than, let's say, sitting still. But no physical hardship was as mocking or stung as bad as the sign that, by some cruel twist of faith, had ended up right next to his very much unwanted prison.

"Oddities form around the world! Come and be amazed!"​

So it read. He could have turned to the other side, but there were other cages there, with creatures even more sad than this, so he didn't. Leyus tried to close his eyes instead, to maybe, maybe get a few moments of cold and painful sleep.

How had he gotten himself into this situation? Well, that was a terrible story, not worth retelling in great detail, but the essence of it was that he had gotten curious. And too honest. And trusted the wrong secret to the wrong people.
Because since the moment he had crossed his ways with two very, very strange beings, he had started to question his own nature. He had though that he was a human before, the crazily mixed sort, but, still, human. As it turned out, some creepy magical psycho thought otherwise, and that had made this whole little identity crisis of his start. Yes, his ancestry was mixed. Could it be that there were not only humans there? Most probably. But could there have been something truly not mundane there?
He wanted to find out.
Up until this point he had seen his gift for changing his appearance as a magical talent. A handy and fascinating one, but simple, as some people had. Like the gift for prophecy or magic of nature.

However, more and more fingers and words pointed him to the words shape shifter. And not in the sense of a magical talent, but a scoff, a slur for a race lower than others. A monster, as one very particular person had called him.
And he couldn't, he simply couldn't let it pass anymore, he had to find out more, get it straight, what he was, who he was, what was his place in this world.

So he had sought and questioned, and, sooner than later, made a mistake. Because, truly, many people saw shape shifters as not being human. Barely being sentient even, a mimics, tricks, lies.
Almost animals, even. But peculiar ones, so worth selling to somebody who would be happy to showcase them.

And so he was here, in the outskirts of Alliria, in a damn cage. For several days now. It was all plain and simple, really: either he did what he could in the day, for the public, or they beat him and didn't feed him. How marvelous. And the worst part was, that even while he had tried to call for help, to say that he was very much not a magical animal to put a collar on, they had downplayed it all.
"Oh, don't pay attention, they get very clever. But don't be fooled, its not human," those were their words.

Leyus huffed and tried to stretch his legs. Useless. He was stuck here, and stuck for good. Unless some damn miracle wouldn't fall on his head right now he would have to accept the role of a circus monkey.
Ah, joy.

 

[Orival Theodric]

Orival had finally had some time away from his mother's restaurant and wanted to enjoy it! A whole three months off? What was he to do with such time? Well, travel of course! He'd barely been outside of Shadokien before and wanted to see what the rest of the world was like and all its wonders! Little did he know what many of these wonders entailed.

It was safe to say that Orival had a bit of naivete. He was always surrounded with love and though trained never found himself ever having to fight anything that wasn't a wild beast. His home had been good to him and he'd not known much strife in the ways that many impoverished would. So when he would stumble across a "circus", he could only react with joy! Oddities? Strange creatures? Of course he wanted to see that! Who wouldn't, he thought.

Naive or not, there was no mistaking emotion. At first, Orival was incredibly excited to see what this was about. Colorful hosts showing "creatures" to a crowd of what seemed to be mostly human like him. Though the cages seemed to not be too far off from that mark either. And most of them looked horribly, horribly upset.

Leyus specifically caught his eye. Whoever he was seemed so lost in thought and even covered in bruises. What did that mean? The young man couldn't make heads or tails of what he was looking at. He moved closer towards them and sat down criss cross in front of the cage. He waved a finger in the air, spelling words in fire magic in front of him.

"Is this your job?" He asked with his magic words. His head was cocked to the left and though all that could be seen through his outfit was his eyes, he showed genuine confusion.

 

[Florinthe Othal]

Florinthe was lost, completely and utterly lost. Her mission had turned out to be a false flag - some errant child with psychopathic tendencies had whipped a rural village into an overhyped frenzy. In the end, after the misunderstanding had been cleared, she decided to take some time for herself and enjoy a detour to the wondrous Alliria and all it had to offer. Or so she thought.

Her journey had been plagued by bad weather, highwaymen and, worst of all, nobility. So, to avoid all these, she had elected to simply trudge through the wilderness and avoid the main roads entirely, entering the city via the sprawling outskirt settlements. She had been wandering around aimlessly, having sworn she'd seen several buildings, trees, statues and other landmarks several times before. Eventually, however, distant cries, exclamations and excited yelps caught her attention and she drifted cautiously towards the source.

Her curiosity was piqued at the sight before her, great caravans and tents amassed in no particular order creating a very colourful, if not overwhelming, landscape. There was no place for such frivolity in her life, usually at least, but as she had some spare time - and was technically on a mission with a week or two remaining - she gave herself leave to break this rule.

As she drew closer to the circus, her heart began to sink. A wooden sign, decorated with colourful silks and cloth, advertised "Oddities from around the world". She could feel anger, no fury, well up inside her and she was forced to close her eyes, breath deeply and bring her emotions back in line with her usual stoic demeanour. "Perhaps, it will be harmless - monsters even?" but despite her momentary reassurance, part of her knew that would not be the case.

She was quickly proved right, despite her best efforts to be wrong. The cruelty of humanity rarely surprised her, having grown up as a mere pet and trophy in a pirate fleet she had seen it all. Yet something about humans, humanoids - any creature - locked up in cages hit particularly close to home. Eventually, she came across two figures, one an exhibit of this sideshow and the other seemed like an animated robe with blue eyes.

As she approached, she didn't so much as hear the robed figure speak, but felt the words reverberate within her. "If that's his job, they don't much trust him with the security they've placed around him." Her voice was frank, gruff and blunt, completely at odds with her almost angelic features and appearance. She cast a slow gaze at both the figures, before letting it rest upon the man in the cage - an involuntary wince escaped as she remembered her own experiences trapped within one. "You look like you have a story to tell, or perhaps, need a hand."

 

[Sagarus]

It was uncharacteristic of his duties to take him all the way out to Alliria, as the Dreadlords were tied inexorably to Vel Anir. However, times came when their prey fled far - beyond the Savannah, or even beyond the Falwood. It was rare for them to survive their escapes, but some did.

That was what had brought Sagarus to Alliria, and it was what had driven him towards the circus. It wasn't the circus, but it's people. The promised lead had never materialized, however, and the well armored, taciturn Dreadlord had merely sighed, scowled, and gone about his business.

Deep down, he'd feared that the trip would be for nothing, but he'd find the information he needed given time. His eyes, bright scarlet in hue, drew him less looks than his clearly expensive and well maintained armor, but it was the hard edge to his face that kept any eyes from lingering too long.

He was close to leaving the circus entirely when a flare of magic caught his senses, like the sudden whiff of fresh food as one neared home. Head tracking to the side, he caught sight of raven black hair, and before that a cage and a robed figure.

Like a candle, the robed figure flickered with light, and he knew that the magic had come from him. More surprisingly, however, the woman with midnight black hair was familiar, though he couldn't place why. Distractedly, he touched his fingers to the grimoire bound to his left pauldron, and then moved forward, parting the crowd easily as he came up behind the group.

The figure in the cage was exactly the sort he'd expect to find at a 'show' like this, and his lips curled in disgust. Though, it was hard to say if it was the fact it was caged or the fact it existed that made it so.

"It's trapped." He replied in an authoritative baritome. "There is fear behind the resignation in it's eyes."

 

[Orival Theodric]

Orival turned and took in the words spoken to him by the abrupt arrivals with as much thought as he could. The person in front of them was a... performer, right? That's what it looked like to the pyromancer. Yet it was trapped? And there was security watching them? That did not resonate well with the young mans brain. Old enough to grasp that there are horrors in this world and yet seemingly unable to comprehend how this would be possible. Why would people put another person in a cage against there will? He had to have committed some crime right? But they didn't look to be a criminal. And above all else they looked abused.

He waved his finger, drawing words to Sagarus and Florithe. "Why then if they were trapped would they put them on display? That would be excessive cruelty, would it not?" His naivete showed very clear in this moment. This was supposed to be a circus and all he'd ever heard about circuses was the idea that they brought fun and wonder to the eyes of thousands. Like his own city did! If they were like his own city then they had to be happy places.

He shook his head in disbelief. This didn't make any sense to him. He turned back to Leyus and wrote once more.

"Are you truly trapped?"

 

[Leyus]

Somehow he had thought that it would be late enough already for people to stop flowing and flocking around. A foolish hope, really. This place never really went to sleep, and there would always, always be people around ready to mock him some more. His life just was like this now.
Is this your job. Really? It was borderline absurd, and he couldn't help but let out a huffed laugh, which caught sharply in his ribs. There was probably something bruised there too, but he hadn't cared enough to examine his own injuries closely enough.

Then there came a woman. And her words were far more reasonable and reassuring, enough so to spark some hope in Leyus. He had already started to sit up, to get in a truly straight position, his mouth was half-open, with an answer ready on the tip of his tongue... And then came the third one. Another man. And he was just like the people before him had been.
A pleasure to listen to.
"I do have a name, pretty boy," he smiled at the armored man, possibly in a stupid whim, but he was already in a cage, so how much worse could it get, "And it's Leyus. And I do have stories to tell," his gaze turned to the woman, gaining some imploring quality, "And I could use a hand. And I'm certainly not free," his eyes traveled to the first one, mock hiding something far darker in them.
Then, however, he huffed a laugh.
"Although, you wouldn't really want to help somebody like me, no?" with these words, Leyus smiled again, and all of sudden his teeth had become more pointed, not exactly fang like, but not seeming like those of a human as well. In a second, it was gone. Throughout this change and his little monologue, other details about his appearance had changed as well. His hair had become darker, skin lighter, his eyes never stayed the same and all of his general features seemed to simply float, swim around, going from a face to face.
It wasn't that he intended it that way, no. But days of being forbidden from keeping control did this to him, and he couldn't really regain it again. Well, okay, the teeth had been his making, and probably the most idiotic thing he had done this far, but, really, he had gotten quite pessimistic.

And he didn't want to believe. Because it meant hope, and hope meant disappointment.

Leyus was afraid. Not so much from new pain and beating again, than trusting his faith to someone, and then getting hit in the face again.
He just wanted to be in any place but this.

 

[Florinthe Othal]

Florinthe stared intently at the caged figure before her, expressionless and unreadable - as if trying to make up for her slip up only moments before. From behind her, she heard the clink of metal and the familiar sounds of armament she had grown accustomed to throughout her training. Without flinching, and with practised secrecy, she cast a furtive glance behind her and sized up the individual who approaching their small crowd.

She knew him. Or rather, she knew of him. And the chances of running into another Dreadlord this far from home? Impossible, yet here he was. Maintaining brief eye contact as he cast his vision her way, she found herself unable to determine if she had been recognised - but she would expect no less. As he spoke, she focused intently on what he was saying and soon began to study the creature from a different light, quickly seeing what he had seen.

It was the robe's turn to speak now and she found herself sighing, sadly. This moment could change the poor man's view of the world, and the idea of that saddened her. However, life was cruel and some lessons were simply hard, that was how the world worked. Soon after, the creature chimed in, almost seeming maddened or delirious to Florinthe - although, in light of his current circumstances, she was inclined to excuse him this time.

Not one for idle chatter, his words washed over her, she wasn't listening, nor did she put much effort into pretending to do so. Her head was focused on more important things, the gears of her mind turning and she found herself studying the cage, the lock, searching for weak points or any flaw she could exploit. It quickly came apparent, however, the creator of this cage had considered the detention of the victim their utmost priority and, as such, externally it was little more than just a simple metal prison.

Her hand slipped quickly into her cloak and she withdrew a single worn lockpick from an interior pocket. Drawing closer to the cage, she turned towards Orival with an almost pained expression on her face. "This is cruelty, but sadly you'll find most people revel in it." Her words were said with conviction, yet she realised the irony in that, coming from the mouth of a Dreadlord. Shaking her head, she drew her attention back to the lock, grumbling as she did so. "Me and my comrade behind me, have seen worse magics and monsters than you can imagine. Shape changing is child's play in comparison." Her words came off rougher and blunter than she'd meant, but her meaning was there.

Finally, with a small flourish, she wedged the pick into the lock and, after a few brief moments, it clicked. Unlocked and unbound, Leyrus was free.

 

[Sagarus]

A few muttered words made sure that she could unlock the cage without fear of magical feedback. Whatever her plan was beyond unshackling the prisoner, it was likely diluted by her words. The creature wanted to be free, but saying there were things worse than him wasn't going to improve it's mood.

How maudlin of him, caring about the shapeshifter's mood. He frowned, chiding himself internally.

Flexing a hand absently, he settled the other on the pommel of his sword and cast his gaze around. Already, he could see some of the circus workers heading their way, wondering why they were so close to the cage. "Hurry it up." He says, in the calm tone of a man noting clouds on the horizon.

"It's friends are on the way." Captors, more like. While he didn't trust shapeshifters, he had the distinct impression that were it not simply an unjust form of slavery that kept it in the cage, it was in there because it was mentally unhinged.

The shifting sands of it's face told him that something was likely broken inside the beast, but he couldn't tell what. A complex formula appeared in his head, and he began subtly manipulating the circusgoers into a pattern that aligned with the surrounding rooftops and the sun above.

It wasn't a particularly potent spell, but it would be a useful one in a minute or so when it was needed.

 

[Orival Theodric]

The whole day had been flipped on its head for young Orival. As the person began to shift and contort it was an easy deduction to make that they were a shapeshifter. So not a person? No that still didn't feel right in his mind. Shifting appearance didn't mean that. Perhaps it did in the archives, not registered as human. But. Elves were people, and dwarves were people, so why wouldn't shapeshifters be? Because they're less common? Orival's brain began to hurt as he tried to make heads and tails of what was occurring.

People reveling in cruelty? Florithe spoke these words to the mute but he still couldn't fathom them. Truly he'd had quite a blessed upbringing as those around him seemed to laugh and scoff at something so horrendous. Was this a regularity? Had the walls of Shadokien shown him a facade? No. That couldn't be it. Happiness wasn't a facade. Love wasn't a facade. What was happening NOW was. These were criminals. That is, the people who thought it okay to cage people. PEOPLE. He stared now at the others more lachrymose in cages near them. Their bodies just as lacerated and minds seemingly as scarred.

Orival began to feel an unending anger. An anger at the captors. An anger even at those freeing Leyus for showing such low compassion for the person in front of them. Who were they? How could they be so lax?! Circuses were prisons?! His hands gripped the sides of his head from the confusion that blighted him. His brain was throbbing in frustration. And apparently those responsible were headed their way. The approaching captors did not seem to have the intention of giving a kind intervention. The two next to him seemed to have Leyus' freedom under wraps.

It was his turn to play a role in this.

He wrote once more to the three of them, "Forgive me for this, as I cannot fathom how to react to such news." His eyes sorrowful. Showing remorse in his ignorance. He turned to face the perpetrators who were almost to them with hands on their weapons.

His eyes darted across the way. Tents where more workers drank mead and laughed. How dare they, how could they?! All he saw was fire. And that was what snapped his mind. A lesson people had to learn in this life that he had learned far too late, and in this moment. Fire was not always beautiful. Fire was not always dazzling. Sometimes fire was destructive. Sometimes fire was suffocating.

His hands ignited in flame and he lobbed two balls off fire. One to alert those watching that now was the time to flee. The other to ignite the tent where the carnies reveled. His eyes now locked on those who's weapons were now drawn and their pace quickening towards him

This would burn, and all caged would be free.

 

[Leyus]

To be completely honest, Leyus was a bit confused. Hopeful and annoyed at the same time, tired and suddenly buzzing with energy, to put it simply, he was torn between so many sensations and sudden thoughts, that his mind had trouble following. He could barely remember the words he had said a few moments ago, and he failed to understand the nature and motivation of the people around him.
Did the woman want to help? Why were the other two here? And what would their stance be in whatever situation they might face next in this dreadful place?

It was as if he had been under deep, deep water, and only now began to reemerge, crawl back into his own skin, and it was a tedious thing.
"Tell me about it," he mumbled, looking at the woman with a puzzled expression in his eyes. Maybe face as well, but it still wasn't concrete enough to tell. "Glad to know," his next words gained a dry edge, despite his best attempts to sound as neutral as possible. Soothing words to hear, while sitting in a cage, locked there because of your own nature, which you hadn't even began to explore properly. But, ah, at least you weren't a terribly horrendous monster. Magnificent.

And then, she opened the cage. Just like that, seemingly with little to no difficulty, she opened the damn thing. Leyus could just stare blankly at it for a moment, before scrambling to his feet and stepping out in a shaken, uncertain manner. "You have my eternal gratitude, I suppose," he huffed a laugh, which was borderline hysterical. He was free.
Or was he?
There would be people coming soon, who would be only happy to lock him away once more; he wasn't sure about the intentions of these strangers, although at this point they did seem a lot more pleasant than the circus owners. And he still had his whole shifting situation. He tried to draw a steady breath, to catch the strings that had held him in place all these years once more, but they slipped out of his fingers as soon as the man in armor spoke once more. "I'm not an "it", I'm a person and I have a name," his words came out like a hiss, surprising even himself, but Leyus didn't manage to bite them back. He was a human being. He was somebody. He had been somebody for all his life. And he wouldn't allow no Amygdala, circus bastards or armed strangers take it away.
A voice in the back of his head still screamed that he was an idiot. But Leyus really, truly didn't care at the moment.

He tried to breath once more, to restore his control over his own body, skies damn it, but then the third stranger decided to, very helpfully, kick him out of his balance. Leyus looked at the flaming words in the air, his lips almost curling to form some answer, but then he turned around. Leyus saw the men behind him well enough, and his heart already accepted the inevitable faith of being placed into a cage again.
But then fire appeared around the hands of the third stranger, and some sort of blazing inferno broke loose.

"Shit," he stretched the word out with equal parts of admiration and terror. Who had he gotten involved with? And, most importantly, would they be enough for the whole bunch of the armed men, now very, very close to them?

 

[Florinthe Othal]

With the creature finally free, Florinthe took a step back and admired her handiwork. The triumph didn't last long, however, and her attention soon shifted towards the faint residue of magic that still lingered on the padlock. She cursed herself internally, Sagarus had likely disarmed it just before she had broken the lock. It was uncharacteristically careless of her, but she would do better next time - as she always did. She smiled, she had planned her next move well before freeing the shapeshifter and took some enjoyment in keeping the senior Dreadlord in the dark.

She spun on her feet, a gentle breeze - barely detectable - whipped up around her. Smoothly, she splayed her hands at her side as she spun and trace amounts of magic slowly eeked from her person. Florinthe had taken note of the cages within range of her position, which was to say most of them, and, most importantly, where the locks for them were. In the space of mere seconds, she condensed several small and volatile balls of air within the internal mechanisms of the locks and, suddenly, they all popped.

The popping sounds were drowned out by the ambient noise of the carnival ongoing around her. Similarly, being contained within the metal casings of the locks easily contained any blast, removing the possibility of visible smoke or sparks. Regardless, the damage was done, the fragile tumblers and inner workings that kept these 'freaks' imprisoned were undone. Then, as if on cue, the doors to these cages swung open.

"It is hurried." She said softly towards Sagarus, her voice and face successfully containing the momentary triumph she experienced. These carnies and other workers of the sideshow would have their hands full dealing with this and, she was certain, at least some of those she had freed would manage to escape.

When she finished, she watched the mute before her, witnessed his view on the world shift and nodded. She had feared as much. Yet part of her was afire with excitement, his explosiveness and hotheadedness were interesting to her and Florinthe found herself enjoying the spectacle he displayed before her.

"Leyus, I'm not entirely sure what you'll do with your newly-found freedom, but I expect that you may have to fight to keep it." She gestured calmly towards some of his fellow captives, who began to emerge and turn on their captors. Now, with her role in the matter done, she turned towards Sagarus and nodded gently. "Fancy grabbing a bite to eat while this pans out? I wouldn't want to step on any more Allirian toes while we're out here."

 

[Sagarus]

Well, so far as entrances went, this one was more of an exit. Simply put, despite the ferocity and strength behind the arms that wielded the Dreadlords, he knew better than most that no matter the warrior, it was the noble funding him that would inevitably control destiny. There was the barest of frowns that creased his weatherbeaten visage, and he looked down to Florithe.

She was likely pleased with herself, but you didn't have to be observant to know that.

To wit, though, she was right. It was hurried. He wasn't well versed in Allirian politics but he was fairly certain starting a conflagration with magic was frowned upon. While not certain, he had a high degree of confidence. Generally, folk liked staying unburned.

While she spoke with the prisoner, he turned on his foot, intending to leave before he was somehow linked to this more than he already was. But the other Dreadlord stopped him as he voice rose at the end of her sentence, posing a question.

His mind took a moment to catch up with his ears.

"Not the strangest way I've been invited to dinner." That dubious honor belonged to an ornery alpaca, a muddied tracker, and half of a watermelon. Yet, he was still committed to not being pegged for this so he started moving immediately, unhurriedly exiting the vicinity before the guard arrested him too.

 

[Orival Theodric]

His flames were not intended to kill. While reality was split for the young caster just moments ago he still retained a bit of sanity. Death was not what he wanted. He wanted their attention, and justice. Those recently unchained were attacking their captors in extreme fashions. This was not intended either as he expected the carnival drivers were not the ones to pull their punches if they were willing to cage living people.

Those who'd helped the caged escape as well he could overhear talking about fleeing. This scared and confused Orival even more as if they knew this was this way, and broke the lock, why were they fleeing? But he also wasn't a complete fool. He'd made quite the mess just a second ago. Something it was too late to regret. He took a deep breath as two of the carnies were now on him with weapons raised.

He dodged the swipe of one blade but his shoulder took the blow of another. He reeled backwards in pain and gripped his staff as a reaction off of his back. He retaliated and cracked one of them across the head in a practical fashion. Good hit, too. He was out. Some vacation this turned out to be.

 

[Leyus]

They had brought chaos with them, and, although Leyus was very thankful to these people, if you really looked past his snarky and probably ill-judged remarks given the circumstances, yes, although he was thankful, he also became gradually more and more vary of the things going around him. There were more people fighting and shouting with every second, and the fire hadn't started to look more cheerful as the time passed.
"Most probably so," he nodded to the woman's words about the almost inevitable need to engage in some sort of aggressive conflict in the near future. She was right. Although Leyus did intend to get out before anybody would try to turn directly against him. He wasn't a great fighter. This thought made him still for a moment. Had he really thought that? For the first time in days upon days, he had thought about something that didn't involve rotting away somewhere or torment about his essence. It was... refreshing. "I'm glad I have it anyways," he finally added, his lips almost curving into a genuine smile.

With a moment's delay he also noticed, that the stormy waves of his shifting had gradually started to calm down, now, when he didn't try to push order over them. It was probably very well visible from the side as well, as his appearance slowly settled into something more stable. Almost permanent seeming. It was definitely much better than mare seconds ago.

However, Leyus didn't have a lot of time to rejoice about this sudden shift, as the world around once again flooded his senses with screams, dull hits and sharp singing of blades. He had to get out.
His head started to turn around frantically, trying to take in as much as he could and determine, where was the best way for escaping from this mess, as his eyes caught the previously absent glint of armor that was far too polished and well-kept to belong to any of the circus' folk.
It was a group of men, armed and grim looking, pushing through the crown, gaining speed with every second. Guards. Those were damn Allirian guards. And Allirian guards were a completely different sort than a simple, old fashioned crazy mob.
"I think we might have a problem," he said aloud, if there was still somebody there to listen to him. If all the strangers hadn't already vanished just as swift as they had appeared.

 

[Florinthe Othal]

Florinthe walked swiftly beside Sagarus, ignoring his jest. She was not one for humour and she wanted to be as far away from here as possible - at least before the guilt set in. Yet her attempt to avoid responsibility for her actions was short-lived and futile as she witnessed the curious flame mage be dealt a powerful blow. She winced, drew her spear, and launched herself in defence of Orival.

She moved instinctively, her spear quickly targetting the carnie's raised weapon and, in a single precise motion, she knocked the blade out of his hand. With the momentum of the lunge still behind her, Florinthe drew in close to the Carnie and, following Orival's stellar example, cracked the half of her spear against his head - rendering him, much like his friend, unconscious.

"My apologies, but I think the food might have to wait. I would like to make sure these two get out alive before we eat." Her tone was flat, unemotive, but she was acutely aware that this decision would be met with great disapproval.

It took seconds for Florinthe to regret her decision to stay as Leyus revealed the true extent of the group's current situation. Her mind raced, she took a few seconds to strategize, but quickly realised that tackling the Allirian Guard head-on seemed to be the only real option at this moment. She sighed, turning her head towards Sagarus. "I think it might be best, perhaps, if we avoided magic for now... I wouldn't want this escalating into an act of war."

She put her spear aside for a moment, her attention focused entirely on the approaching guards. Without breaking her gaze, she withdrew a second spear from her holster and held it out towards Leyus.

"I think you might be needing this." She was very hesitant to arm a stranger, much less an unstable one, but at this moment in time there appeared to be little choice in the matter.

 

[Sagarus]

Things had a habit of happening quickly. Startlingly quickly. If frowns could cure ailments then his would certainly have eliminated many common illnesses at a stroke. "You have a decision to make." An obvious statement, but one so important it bore repeating. She was on the precipice of something that even he couldn't undo.

Slowly, with the clockwork precision of a metronome, he began tapping out a rhythm on the inside of his palm, counting the beats to some unheard tune as he called upon the magic he'd been raised to use. Not all magic was as obvious as a hammer or flail, but sometimes you needed a dagger not a sword.

Around him, the still running crowd seemed to slow as uncertainty caused them to briefly mill, providing them ample opportunity to slip away. Or, at the very least, make a more admirable attempt at a peaceful resolution that wouldn't get them both questioned rather intently by the Houses of Vel Anir.

"The guard has come, and that means this is no longer a simple act of altruism. Are you Dreadlord or Samaritan?" They didn't have to be opposites, but sometimes they were, and this was one of those moments so far as he was concerned.

His magic may not be able to control time, but it could certainly help buy them a little - what she did with it though, that was her business. He'd made his attempt at appealing to good sense.

 

[Orival Theodric]

This was going awry fast. The main goal had been achieved and those imprisoned were now free from the coil of entertainment. Ick. This was no entertainment. Such a necessity in enriching peoples lives never needed to come at the expense of another's health or safety. He'd been a performing for years without ever harming anyone. He'd rarely even drawn his weapon in his lifetime and he never thought it would be due to seeing the darkness in the extremities of his own field of passion.

He needed to make a decision. It seemed that the others were preparing to flee. The carnies would not be much against the guards and Orival assumed he wouldn't either. That said, he turned his head at the notion of magic being considered an act of war. How? There must be something he was missing. Magic was all he had at a time like this and he would quell its rampage now.

He closed his eyes and inhaled a long and sharp breath. He held it for a second before his eyes opened back up and he thrust both his arms to the side with his palms facing outward. The flames that were ever growing seemed to stop in their tracks and change immediately into smoke. A thick, gray blanket of the hardened air now covered the area.

He faced the three behind him again and wrote the word "FLEE" in bright red flame moments before an Allirian guard that he could not fool tackled him straight to the ground. The sounds of infighting still echoed through the cloud he'd created, but were accompanied by that of confusion.

His only thought was that they were not guilty of starting a battle here, he alone was responsible for that. They needn't suffer from his emotional outburst.

 

[Leyus]

The situation was shifting quicker now than his own appearance, one thing that Leyus used to enjoy, in the time that now seemed so, so long ago, even though what separated him from that old life were mare weeks. Maybe even less. Keeping count was hard.
And following the surrounding events seemed to be even harder.

Leyus took the weapon handed to him more by an instinct than real, conscious thought. And after doing so, he couldn't do much more than stare at it for a moment, feeling the weight in his hands. He had never carried a spear and even more so, used one. He had done some stick fighting, a long time ago, when he was very young, but this seemed only remotely similar to that. Fine. Okay. He could do this. You just held the thing out and... poked people with it. Hard. "Yeah, good, thanks."
Leyus finally held the spear up, wondering, what it would take to get out of this without actually using it.

The words buzzing around didn't really land well in his mind.

Except the fiery letters that were impossible to not see and understand, floating in the air in front of him. The guards approached even more, the fighting around had lost any sense of order now, growing into chaotic exchange of hits and blows of magic, a big pile of angry folk, and in the middle of it all, the word "flee" glowed, marking his sight for good.
Leyus made a decision then. Something pulled in his gut, making his hands move on his own. He pulled the tip of the spear closer, slashing one of his fingertips lightly and then, quickly and quite messily, he scribbled one single word on his forearm.
DISSOLVE.
Just as the peace and captivity had dissolved into conflict and freedom. It was the longest lithomancy spell he had ever composed, the longest and most complicated word he had ever tried to use, drawing upon one of the voices of this magic he knew. He felt his strength flowing away for a moment.

In the next one, amid the guards breaking closer and closer, Leyus would no longer appear to be standing there to an untrained eye. The spear had fallen to the ground, but the man was gone.
As if he had dissolved in the crowd.

//ooc: So sorry for leaving my own thread hanging like this guys. Life got in the way of stuff. This was to give it some sort of closure (although, if you are still up to posting in this, khem, a month later, feel free to).