RP:It's Raining Somewhere Else

From HollowWiki

Part of the You Must Have Been Human Arc


Part of the Lies Within Us Arc


This is a Mage's Guild RP.


Summary: At Provost Grace's insistence, Arcane Steward Karasu treks out to Frostmaw to persuade Magister Odhranos Kerrigan to return to his post at the Mage's Guild. When she realizes that telling him the truth of what's happening in the Guild would only ruin what semblance of happiness he seems to have found, she advocates for his continued hiatus. Their first chat in over a year is cut short by a troubling whisper from the shadows.


Guild Board & Main Quarters

Ones senses might be overwhelmed upon entering the Mages Guild inner sanctum, where a staggering collective of magical energies have been spent to imbue the lavish grounds with security, utility and beauty. The inner sanctum boasts a grand hall where council and events are hosted. It's high-vaulted ceiling is equipped with magical chandeliers that mimic the constellations of the nights sky, ever moving with the changing of seasons. These lights accentuate and complement the ancient architecture, which stands testament to the strength in arms and security of the Mages Guild. Along either side of the grand hall, open-air courtyards can be seen, filled with myriad rare and unique forms of flora and even fauna. Beyond those courtyards are the offices and quarters of higher ranking members of the guild, along with rooms used for magical ritual, or any manner of variety to suit the needs of those who rule over this domain.


Despite the season, Grace’s office was chilled. She’d pulled her delicate curtains away from her window and opened the cerulean and gold stained glass wide, allowing sunlight and cool air into the cluttered space. Light slanted long across her desk and the mounds of files and notes, over the crystals and flourishing herbs and blooming plants. The illusioned witch stood behind it, scanning her overfull bookcases for one of her favorite penny novels with little luck. Had she left it here or in the library at home? Bouncing between Cenril and Xalious was tiresome for many reasons but Valrae would put ‘never remembering where she left her book last’ on nearly the highest seat of that list. When Odhranos’s snow dusted beetle arrives, she takes the letter quickly and thanks it kindly out of habit. Her mood quickly sours at the letter’s contents. Tucking herself comfortably at her desk, her frown deepens with each letter of the terramancer’s written words. He wasn’t returning? Her brows knit together, part confusion and the other frustration. They’d cast Brenwyn and his influence out, what reason could he have for refusing to return? Had Kasyr not told him of the administer’s death? Surely he wouldn’t have left that information out. Groaning, Valrae tosses the letter aside. She’d write another to change his mind. They couldn’t go on like this. The guild needed leadership. For a moment, the witch sat at her desk with her fingers pressed tightly against her temples and contemplated tossing herself out of the tower window. That wouldn’t do though, and was no way for an adult to behave, and so instead she sweeps out of the room in search of Steward Karasu’s office. So much for a moment of peace with a poorly written novel. When she arrives she knocks twice.

Karasu is still in the process of moving her things from her room in Kelay to the office she was moving into nearly a year late, much to her chagrin. Had it been up to her, she would have stayed away longer until she was certain that this Order had no telemancers amongst them, but Quintessa’s sudden departure had left her with little choice. As she shovels tome after tome of reference books stolen from the library into the bookcase built into the wall, she shivers slightly in the unseasonably cool air. Gods, how she detested the cold. Karasu curses under her breath as a mug is knocked to the floor yet again by her tail, one of the shortfalls of her decision to retain her demifeline appearance at all time while in the tower. As she sets the book on the chair to retrieve the thing, she hears the two knocks at her door. “It’s open.” Karasu calls out curtly, waving her fingers for the door to swing open as she kneels to retrieve the chipped cup. When she sees the familiar figure, she straightens up. “Provost Grace.” Slitted eyes narrow as she takes a cursory glance past the door’s frame to see if she was being accompanied by any of their mutual friends. No? “How can I help you?” The mug is set aside on an empty portion on the shelf, and the box of books is moved from the singular guest chair, should she need to be seated.

Valrae enters hesitantly. While she felt a broad sense of familiarity toward the Steward, the disguised witch had very few run-ins with the other woman and exactly none that had left them with any sort of one on one interaction, and so it felt a little like meeting someone important for the first time. Suddenly, she was worried about her impression and quickly smoothed a few wayward strands of curling, dark hair from her face. “Steward Karasu,” She greets her, tone friendly and light, if a little forced. When she looks beyond her, Grace glances behind herself as well, suddenly alarmed that she might be followed. With no one behind her, she settles and ignores the creep of embarrassment that colored her cheeks. “How are you?” Valrae asks, by way of making polite conversation and out of genuine curiosity. The guild had suffered many blows very recently and the halls still echoed with the loss of Brenwyn. The witch wondered how Karasu might be weathering the changes. She watches as Karasu places a mug down and offers a smile. “I’ve been trying to convince Odhranos to return,” Grace admits slowly, “We could use him here,” She waits a heartbeat, hopeful the other woman might agree. “But he seems to have made his mind up. He mentioned there were some things left in his office and that you might be best suited for going through them.”

Despite Karasu’s neutral expression, only enhanced by the shadows under her eyes to create a form of ‘resting dragon face’, the small spellblade unconsciously finds herself mirroring the Provost’s movements, brushing a lock of dark mulberry- brown hair from her eyes. “Can never be too sure.” She says under breath as she motions for the woman to come in so the door can be closed behind her. As she moves into the sunlight to round her desk, her hair seems to change into a deeper violet color. “I was not ready for my sabbatical to have ended the way it did, but someone had to fill in with--” Hesitating to call Quintessa by her first name, she consciously makes the effort to refer to her as she does any other member of the guild, “--Steward Dragana’s departure, and it appeared she left the appointment of Spellblade Corps members to me. That’s not to say that I’m so busy that I cannot assist you with your studies should you come to a roadblock. There’s no one better suited to navigate the library or find who’s taken a book from where.” The feline gives a small smile, her attempt at befriending the disguised witch. The smile fades as Grace speaks, though, and her eyes lower to the desk in disarray before her. At her sides, her left hand curls up to fidget with the sleeve of her Steward’s robe. “Odhranos isn’t coming back.” She repeats slowly, almost in a resigned manner. The rounded leopard ears atop her head turn downwards at the news. Flicking her eyes up to Grace, she says, “I understand. Did he leave any kind of address to send anything I might find?”

Valrae watches the Steward intently, admiring the way the light changed her hair distantly. “I’ll likely be taking you up on that offer,” The witch warns teasingly, thinking back to just minutes before as she stood searching her shelves. She doubted the vast, scholarly library of the guild held any lusty historical fiction though. Too bad. Grace moves delicately toward the seat that had been emptied for her and smooths her dark skirts as she sits, crossing her hands in her lap daintily. She made herself soft, small in her illusion as Grace. It was easy to forget the roll she played when faced with injustice, but playing her part as a mage now was more vital than ever. She could not afford to be tossed out as a witch, not when the guild was so vulnerable. The ruse did feel dishonest here though, with only Karasu in the room. Like she had with Quintessa, the desire to share her true identity peaked. “I see,” She nods. “A lot for one person,” She comments softly, thinking of the shadows underneath the other woman’s eyes. It would be more of a kindness to play her role as Grace, rather than complicate things for her further. “Has Quintessa decided to leave indefinitely as well then?” Alarm and a touch of disappointment colored her tone. “In truth, I’d hoped to change Odhranos’s mind. He mentioned speaking to Kasyr, that he’d been filled in on recent events but I wonder if he was told of Brenwyn’s death? Do you think it would change anything?” Her tone was hopeful. “He didn’t leave an address but his beetle was covered in snow…” Her brows knit with thought. “Frostmaw, possibly. I assumed you knew,” Apology flashed behind her dark eyes.

Karasu leans back against the windowsill as Valrae is seated, her lip tugging downwards as Quintessa is mentioned. Her mind flashes back to their argument where she mentions having neglected Vailkrin long enough. Despite her neutral expression, her tail gives her away as it swings around in annoyance. “I… am not sure if Quintessa will be returning, even if this matter is settled. We ah... haven’t spoken in a few days.” Changing the subject as quickly as she can, she jumps on the opportunity to speak of Odhranos. “Odie--” Her tail swishes faster, and her cheeks heat up with the slip of the tongue as she quickly corrects herself. “Magister Kerrigan is a kind man, but is likely just as stubborn as any other textbook terramancer.” There’s a quirk of her lip upwards, though it fails to reach her eyes. “I honestly cannot see Veneficus Azakhaer neglecting to mention the most important part of what happened. If Odhranos has decided to leave for good, then it may be because of something else.” Her mind wanders as she tries to think of what other information would prevent his return, and her eyes widen slightly as she remembers her own letter to him. Her ears flick upwards. “The beetles… come back? Hm.” Karasu sighs and pushes herself off the sill. “Well. I do have a method of finding him, if need be. I suppose…” The demifeline sighs and scratches at the back of her head. Was it a trick of the light, or had her own face gotten redder as well? “I suppose I can ask him to come back.” Her opposite hand flicks towards her box. The contents are spilled out onto the desk with which to collect anything she needs to compile from Odhranos’ office. She had promised her students she would take a trip to Craughmoyle to encourage a spellblade’s return, but it could wait until her return.

Valrae ’s lips pull into a deep frown. “That’s troubling news,” She comments distractedly, wondering how the guild would sustain the loss of so many of it’s talents. She’s pulled from her thoughts by Karasu’s joke and a light, bell-like laugh tumbles beyond her lips. “I’m beginning to agree,” She remarks. Her next statement pauses her, sends her inward again to turn the words of Odhranos’s letter in her head. “You’re probably right…” But something about the way he’d worded things left a shadow of doubt lurking in her mind. It’s forgotten when the beetles are mentioned. “I suppose they do,” A shrug. “It’s how I’ve been receiving his letters at any rate.” Valrae stood. “Thank you for your time,” Smoothing her skirts, the witch prepares to leave. She stops abruptly, had something changed? Blinking slowly, Valrae clears her throat and casts her eyes downward to stop herself from staring rudely. “I’ll be writing another letter as well, I haven’t entirely given up just yet. I hope Quintessa changes her mind too… The guild needs all the help it can get right now and we’ve lost enough.” Crossing toward the door, the witch pauses there, looking over her shoulder with her hand on the now open door frame. “And Karasu… If there is ever anything I can do for you, do let me know?” With a final smile, the witch sweeps out of the room.


Into The Woods

The area is covered in trees and frozen bushes as you move into the wooded path. Your vision is slightly hindered by the drifting snow that blows from the treetops above, and the only place to travel from this location is to the south, where the trees fade, or north, where they thicken even more.


A creeping sense of dread fills Karasu the further she goes into the Frostmaw wilds. The last time she had been out here was for a much simpler task, at least in her mind. A fetch quest was much more straightforward than… whatever it was she was meant to say to Odhranos. After a frost drake nearly snipped her tail on her way into the woods, the spellblade has opted to take on her human appearance. As the snow crunches beneath her feet, she looks down at her gloved hands, where a golden compass sits. A red arrow hovers some space above the base of the open compass, directing her straight forward, deeper into the darkness. An echo of a breath exhaled stops her in her tracks, though, and her eyes narrow into pinpricks as she searches the area. A half-elf clad in all black attire for camouflage peers back at her from the treetops, clearly surprised at being caught. As Karasu drops the compass and the wooden crate slung under her arm to draw her sword, the spy holds up both hands in motion for her to stop. “Wait, it's me!” The half-elf hisses into a lip piercing with an onyx crystal on it, lowering their face mask to reveal themselves. Karasu stops as the sword is halfway out of its sheath and relaxes considerably. The relief is short-lived as she hisses loud enough for the daith in Karasu’s ear to pick up as they converse from a distance. “Cheryse, what are you doing out here?” The halfling seems surprised as she answers, “We were sent to watch for intruders for Odhranos’ safety.” Karasu’s eyes widen in surprise. Despite what happened, a scout was still sent? Perhaps that was why she was given the communicator back. The woman gives a nod in understanding and gives a quick word of dismissal before retrieving her things. She was close enough, then. It only takes a short while before the simple cabin is found. Karasu shivers slightly as she steps out into the open air from the trees. Despite being layered in pelts and coats, the feline could barely keep her teeth from chattering. A few more steps and a glance at her compass confirms this is the right place. A quiet word to break the enchantment on the glorified toy that had set its sights on the Magister versus wherever it was her heart was reaching out for. Karasu gives it a shake with a furrowed brow. Strange, why wasn’t the arrow changing back? Hm. She’d have to tinker with it once she got back to the inn. The compass is pocketed and she takes a deep breath. Xalious above, help her figure out what to say. Three simple knocks are given at the wooden door, and she shifts so the crate, covered by a cloth, is held in both arms. “Odhranos?” There is a pause as she waits for the door to open. Karasu tilts her head as she looks back. Surely, it was occupied… Oh, of course, he was afraid to open the door for fear of an enemy, or for fear of the information received in Quintessa’s letter. Hm. A body snatcher could assume Karasu’s form, but they would never know how it was that a very young Karasu would ask for attention. Well, the scouts would know better than to reveal this information, should they hear it. She clears her throat and tilts her head back, letting out a loud meow just as the handle turns.

Odhranos flicks through his stock of tea as the kettle bubbles jovially beside him. Every few seconds, he pulls a sachet from the case, turns it to the light to consider, then sighs and returns it to it's place. Chamomile and Rosehip? No, the thought of Valrae right now tugs at the terramancer's guilt a bit too heavily to enjoy that blend. Wild berry and liquorice, perhaps? No, maybe best not to think about Quintessa either. Perhaps, had Odhranos been organised enough to clear out his office and bring his bottle of Bealaine, he could make a cup of Kasyr Tea, but he hadn't been, so he can't. Finally, Odhranos plucks out a sachet of masala chai and the wave of loneliness sorrow that washes over him is enough to make him drop the packet of tea leaves and force him to grip the edge of the counter for a moment. Xalious Above, Odhranos thinks to himself, as he crouchs to retrieve the sachet, how he misses them all dearly. Even despite everything that has happened, it hurts to have to keep such a distance between them. But it's for the best. Or at least, Odhranos keeps telling himself that. As he stands once more to tuck the sachet back into its spot once more, he is caught off guard by a knock at the door. Immediately, Odhranos is high alert. Inks doesn't knock, she just enters, she has a key. So this isn't Inks. Nor is it Kasyr, the Kensai has his own special knock that only the most student of the Way of the Knock can learn. With one hand, Odhranos summons a plume of sand from the golden cage, which rests up in the loft, while his other hand reaches for the door handle. As he readies himself for a preemptive strike, a loud meow rings out from beyond the doorway. Utterly bamboozling the terramancer. The gears in his head spin, coughing up a cloud of metaphorical smoke before the door is thrown open and Odhranos brandishes a packet of masala chai tea at the very same person who he had shared it with last. "Karasu!" He cried, his face splitting into a wide beaming smile. He steps out into the snow, unheeding of the cold of the snow beneath his bare feet as the sachet of tea falls forgotten to the wooden step. Noticing the heavy crate she wields, Odhranos takes the weight from her, before placing it aside in the snow almost carelessly, rushing forward to wrap the demi-feline in a tight hug.

Karasu is mortified the second her call leaves her mouth, having heard echoes of chatter on the wind as she did. Oh Sven, Hind, and Lore, who else had heard this?! The worry fades the moment she sees the familiar terramancer’s face. It was a marked change from the tired expression he wore when they saw each other last. Despite all the fears of what to say building up on the trek to Frostmaw, she returns the smile immediately as he takes the crate from her. “Haha, hey there Odie-- ee!” The returned greeting is cut off as she’s pulled into a hug. For a few seconds, the spellblade is paralyzed as she tries to process the sudden warmth. Relaxing with a soft laugh, she leans into the embrace, wrapping her arms around him as well. “I missed you too.” Karasu answers to the hug before pulling back. Her face is bright red as she looks down to clear her throat. “Oh, you’re barefoot! Um. I can take this inside for you. This is all stuff I figured you would want back.” She says, picking up the box of his belongings again.

Odhranos pulls back with a warm smile tugging at his cheeks. "Tea? I was just putting the kettle on." With that simple question, it's as if nothing has changed at all. This snowy forest may as well be a dim and pensive corridor, this cabin may as well be a cramped and bookish office, for so long as there is tea, everything is alright. It seems that in a span of weeks, an almighty weight has been lifted off the mage's shoulders, and he likely appears the most relaxed that Karasu has seen him since she was a child. Only reminded by her comment, Odhranos looks down and stamps about ruefully. "Yes! You're quite right, Gods blast it, that's cold! Oh lords and ladies, that's chilly. Do come in, do come in!" The terramancer steps inside and pitter-patter his feet against the marginally warmer floorboards to try and reinvigorate his circulation. "Let me help you with that. Did you lug this all the way from Xalious? Sven above, you didn't have to go to that much trouble." Odhranos takes one end of the crate and helps heft it in through the doorway, guiding it to one of the few remaining free spots of floorspace in the cost little cabin. Most of the walls are flanked by waist-high stacks of books, journals and the individual components that make these up. When Karasu is inside, Odhranos returns to the door, crouches to fetch the sachet of tea, then closes the door over, shutting out the biting boreal wind. "Grab one of the armchairs and shuffle up by the hearth, you must be frozen. I'll have the tea done in a moment." As his back is turned and he bustles about the small cabin, Odhranos seems like an entirely different man compared to the one who walked out of Xalious weeks previously. No longer swaddled in his iconic scholar's robes, Odhranos cuts a very homely figure, in simple cloth trousers and tunic, both coloured in simple dull tones, giving the terramancer an air of reserved calm. This does not look like a Magister and Scholar of a prestigious School of Magic. This looks like a kindly young house-husband who considers dilemmas no more concerning than what can be contained within the walls of a single household. The look is rather becoming of him. Returning with two steaming mugs, Odhranos passes one to his guest before settling cross-legged into his armchair. "How have you been? It's been a while since we've had that chance to sit down a talk properly. It always seems like there's been some calamity or other going on.

Karasu watches the terramancer curiously as she follows him into the small cabin. “It’s really not that heavy for me, in fact, I think I can lift you now.” She teases, following his lead as the crate is lifted off the ground and into the home. The snow-dusted fur coat she usually wears is hung up on a nearby rack, thankful for the warmth of the fireplace as Odhranos is off to make her tea. Underneath her coat is her usual nearly all-black attire, from her turtleneck to her heeled boots. A woven red shawl is tied tight around her shoulders, though, a marked change from the last few months of her public appearances. As he puts the tea on, she quietly kneels down to the crate, unpacking nearly a dozen of his favorite novels and works onto an end table. When the tea is ready, she follows him to the armchair, taking the mug with a word of thanks. Karasu looks at the terramancer again as she is seated, then gives the room another once-over. “There always seems to be a calamity happening. I mean, aside from the one that saw what I suppose Provost Tsuji has been calling my ‘extended leave for research’ to anyone who asks what happened to me.” She takes a sip of the tea, giving a content sigh as the flavor warms her chilled frame. Karasu looks down at the mug, where red-pink eyes return her gaze as a permanent reminder of what she has become. A sad smile crosses her lips. “You seem even happier than you did when you got the idea to start your thesis. It’s been a long time since I saw a smile that didn’t look like you were hiding something sad behind it.” Karasu tilts her head with a smile, though the light doesn’t seem to quite reach her eyes, her dark curls spilling over the edge of the armchair as she says so. The Steward swallows thickly before asking, “Odie… Did Kasyr tell you about Brenwyn?”

Odhranos chuckles lightly at Karasu's teasing, "I wouldn't be surprised. I'm not exactly the bulkiest of mages to begin with, and I've witnessed enough Spellblade Corp training regimes to be permanently terrified of you and your colleagues' physiques." A playful grin graces the mage's features as he cradles his mug, savoring the spicy fragrance of cinnamon, ginger and cloves. His expression grows grave when she mentions Provost Tsuji, and he nods sombrely. "Aye, I read through those documents you sent on. Rather… insidious stuff. I was on edge for a day afterwards thinking about all the things I may have thought around him that I'd rather not have." Odhranos shakes his head and sips his tea. "Oh well, it's no real matter of concern anymore. It's unlikely that the two of us will cross paths again, so if you'll pardon my rudeness, I pray Kaaname ends up working alongside someone with thoughts so banal and incessantly mundane that drives him insane. That would be rather fitting." Odhranos brightens at Karasu's comment about how happy he seems and he sinks into the armchair with a gentle smile tugging the corners of his lips. "Well, it's peaceful here. I can conduct my research without fear of interruption, the company is very easy to live with and there are no expectations placed upon me. It's, liberating. I haven't felt this free since before I joined the Guild, when I still lived as a hedge wizard. I...missed it." Odhranos shrugs, that's the truth of the matter. Working in the Guild had been stifling, and with every waking minute was spent in service of the Guild's interests, it had become exhausting. Odhranos' eyebrows peak with concern when Karasu averts her eyes and poses her question. "He mentioned that he had been removed from power. Well, no, actually he didn't. He just said that the Larketian issue had been resolved. Which I'm honestly so glad to hear. I just don't think my heart could take hearing about any more bloodshed." Odhranos squeezes his eyes shut and shudders at the mere notion, then meets Karasu's gaze with his own. "Why do you ask?"

Karasu grips her mug tighter as Odhranos mentions what it is Kasyr said. Gods damn it, that vague little-- Her jaw sets when he speaks about having no more bloodshed, then relaxes. That part was irrelevant, then. “I see.” She says quietly. “Brenwyn is… no longer with us. He admitted that he was the one behind what happened to the child and was taken into Larketian custody. That was the resolution.” Though she imagines that the body was promptly thrown off a cliff to be fed to the wolves. Given how much worse the situation actually was, this was not an outright lie, at least. “You and Quintessa have been effectively cleared of any wrongdoing in that regard. Kaaname left to Larket as well to settle the new exchange program as part of the negotiations, basically leaving administration to Foreza and Kyl'oriel. Foreza doesn’t care much for anything besides security, and Kyl’oriel always wants to be left alone so he can write his next book. So… there’s effectively no formal authority now to tell you what to do. So…” Karasu lets her mouth hang for a moment as she tries to figure out how to ask him to leave a place that clearly makes him so happy. She told Valrae she would at least ask, but… “So if you want to come back, there’s always going to be a place for you. And everyone would be really happy to see you. You could renounce your title too and work from the libraries as just a scholar, but, you’ll always have a home in Xalious.” The demifeline smiles sadly before lifting the mug to her face for if only a moment. Why did it feel as if she was sending him off? As if remembering something, she sets the mug aside and stands before he can respond, moving over to the box to try to change the subject. “I would have brought more if I knew I was coming before; this tea is very hard to come by unless you ask the right person in Enchantment.” Lifting up a satchel of heady tea leaves, she smiles. “It’s called Dragon’s Delight, and--” She pauses, seeing a familiar box on the table, with some leaves already missing from it. Her face falls. “--and Inks already shared some with you.” Trying to keep a smile on, she turns away again, letting her hair hide her face as she carefully moves some minor things to either the end table or the opposite end of the crate. “I wasn’t sure which of these violins were yours, so I brought both, just in case I need to take one back. And I wasn’t sure if you needed any messenger beetles, so I left them where they were. I can always move them to my office until...” Her shoulders shake slightly as she remains turned away, her voice starting to waver. “Until you come home.”

Odhranos exhales slowly. "Xalious bless, that's good to hear. Kasyr hadn't elaborated much on how the issue was resolved, but I suppose with Brenwyn handed off to them, then it makes a bit more sense. Brenwyn and Larket. They're welcome to each-other." Odhranos shakes his head, but he looks greatly relieved. Even more so when he heard that Kaaname has left Xalious and gone to Larket also. "What a merry trio they must make, Brenwyn, Macon and Kaaname. All the more reason for me to steer clear of that part of Lithrydel." However, at mention of the slowly fracturing Council's endeavours, Odhranos' face turns to a visage of disbelief. "Sven above, and there's no one else stepping up to the plate? That's not promising. I knew there'd be a power vacuum in Brenwyn's wake, but I didn't think that the council would crumble so readily with his absence. I was envisaging years of work just to convince them to stand down and let someone new take over. I didn't imagine they'd turn to abdication that quickly." Odhranos hums and sips his tea as Karasu goes on, giving her a gentle, yet sad smile when she states that he'll always have a place in Xalious. He doesn't respond, merely continuing to nurse his tea, his attention perking up as Karasu goes to unpack the box. "Ah! Yes! I've tried a little bit of it, it's very relaxing. I believe Inks got it on Magik's recommendation. It's a lovely gift and will be greatly appreciated, thank you." The terramancer smiles pleasantly as Karasu continues to unpack and he gets from his chair to help. "I'll do that, you're a guest, you don't need to - Xalious bless and save my soul, is that -!" Odhranos' face lights up when Karasu produces the two violin cases and he takes the more worn one from her gingerly, a broad smile on his face as he unclasps the small metal latch and creaks the lid back, revealing the rosewood Stradivarius within. "Ah! Karasu, you are a godsend, thank you so much, I can't possibly repay you for getting this back to me safely." He graces her with a beaming smile of thanks before lifting the priceless violin from its case. "Hopefully it's not too far out of tune… bear with me." Odhranos plucks the bow from its slot as he tucks the violin under his chin, buffing the horsehair with the resin pad before he sets the bow to the strings. A series of quick notes flutter around the room as Odhranos tunes the violin, then he draws the bow in a smooth motion across like a sword, drawing a long sonorous scale from the instrument, followed by a dancing series of ascending notes, each chasing the latter in a dainty skipping flurry. "Ahhh!" He exclaimes in a delighted outburst, nearly bouncing in his seat with joy. "I have missed this so dearly, I haven't had time to play in so long, I almost feel a composition coming on. I shall name it "Sláinte ní Kharasu." Odhranos is positively glowing as he puts the violin back in its case and inspects the other one, all the while smiling with a rosy-cheeked delight. "You can leave them both here, while I don't use this one as much, it was a gift from Brennia and I would be loathe to separate the pair. Oh, and the messenger beetles, yes! They are quite easy to make, so it would be a good idea to keep them onhand to contact me…" Odhranos pauses, now aware of the saddened tone of Karasu's voice and the subtle meaning behind her phrasing. Closing the violin case with a quiet movement, Odhranos settles back into his armchair, and stares into the fire, not meeting Karasu's eyes, as the silence grows sad and heavy around him. "Do you really think I should go back?" He asks eventually, his voice quiet and uncertain in the dim fire-lit room. "I've been thinking, likely a bit too much recently, and I still don't know. I miss Xalious, I miss the apprentices, my colleagues. I miss you and our friends like they are family. But at the same time…" Odhranos lifts his knees and hugs them as he watches the flames dance. "I'm terrified of doing something that might hurt them. I have no faith in my ability to lead, and yet people keep turning to me. It's terrifying, because failure means not just suffering on my part, but also for those I hold dear to me." Odhranos tears his eyes away from the fire and when he looks at Karasu, there is a depth of sadness still behind his eyes, perhaps it had always been there. "I've lost one home before, I don't think I could go through that again. Does that make me a coward? For being too afraid to meet my responsibilities? I still don't have an answer." His gaze returns to the fire and he huffs dejectedly. "I felt like, in coming here, I might have the time to think and find the answer I needed. But all I've learned is that I miss it just as much as I have missed this life."

Karasu sits back on her haunches as she reclines back from the box, forcing herself to turn her head to look at him. Her eyes carry a sheen that is quickly blinked away as she steels her composure. There is a long silence after Odhranos asks the question, punctuated by only the occasional gusts of wind from outside the frostbitten cabin and the crackle of the fireplace. After a time, the spellblade finally stands and crosses back to the armchair as well, but she does not sit down, opting instead to stare at the crackling fire. “If you intend to come back and assume the role of Magister, then no. The dangers within Xalious have not yet been completely abated with Brenwyn’s--” There is a quick intake of breath as she just narrowly avoids saying ‘Brenywn’s death.’ “--removal from power. I think whatever happened to Brenwyn to make him go mad could happen to you too if you’re not careful but, given how much changed after coming back from the desert, I think you’ve done more than your fair share of having to be careful.” A quirk of her lip upwards accentuates the poor attempt to lighten the situation. “If anything, you’re still less of a coward than I am. You left because you don’t want to let people down. I left because I was afraid of the truth. I found out some horrible things, and in my paranoia, believed the entire guild was conspiring with Kaaname to assist him with his end goal. Instead of confronting this knowledge and looking to find out more, I hid out in the forests and in the corners of seedy taverns for nearly half a year with the excuse that what I was doing was in the best interests of those who I knew were in danger. All that did was hurt everyone else relying on me. No matter how hard you fight to stop the rain from washing away everything you’ve worked for, you’ll always find it's raining somewhere else.” Looking around the cabin, her tone softens. “But, you’ve found a new home here, haven’t you? Xalious has blessed you in that regard. The tower is the only home I’ve ever known. I let myself be pulled out from sabbatical despite knowing that there could be a hit out for me to take over the Spellblade Corps. The same way people started looking to you for guidance, those Caminae Prenti looked to me for guidance in the wake of what happened. I lied to their faces and told them that being a warrior means building yourself back up despite having been broken down. What a joke. There’s things you don’t get to rebuild from, and this affair is shaping out to be one of them. There are still nights where I wake up just to throw up remembering those I’ve killed. I can understand a fear of letting the people around you down.” The admittance of her crimes is spoken as if it were a footnote. Looking from the fire to him, she sighs. “Coming home is something that should be done when you’re ready, not because you feel an obligation to. I personally want you back, but you know I might be just a little bit biased, given that you’re my favorite terramancer. If anyone ever asks, I really really tried to get you to come back, though.” Karasu presses the tip of her sharp canine to her lower lip as she looks back at the violins. “When you finish your composition, can I hear it sometime?”

Odhranos watches the dancing flames as if hypnotised, nodding quietly as Karasu speaks. The corner of his mouth turns up when she mentions how everything changed after leaving the desert, and some silent comment from the other inside his mind causes him to turn and glance upwards to the loft with the tiniest hint of a smirk. He turns back toward the fire, his expression falling neutral once more as Karasu continues, sparing concerned glance for the spellblade when she elaborates on the reasons for her previous departure. "'Ní thugann an stoirm aire do chroí an chiaróg, chun agóid a dhéanamh i gcoinne na ngaoth chun bás a fháil" Odhranos murmurs cryptically, then smiles sadly at Karasu, continuing to explain. "It's a proverb, from my homeland; "The storm cares not for the ant's heart, to challenge the winds is to court death." Sometimes there are things that are just beyond us, and facing them down regardless, touting mindless bravery…" The terramancer shakes his head in despair. "That kind of attitude will get you killed. Sometimes it is better to run and live another day." The terramancer stands from his chair, and reaches for the fire-tongs, grabbing a piece of firewood from besides the stone hearth, wedging it into the glowing embers and pulling some of the the still burning pieces of wood from the ash to revitalise the hearth for another little while. "There is no shame in what you did, Karasu. I've read through the letters you sent me and I'll be honest, what I found there terrified me. Had I been in your position, I likely would also have fled, staying put and facing a monster who can read your every move before you even make it… that is courting death. Or something worse." Odhranos stands and turns to face Karasu, a gentle expression on his face. "If it would ensure that we can share a cup of tea like this again someday, then I would tell you to run to the ends of the earth and stay safe. To run is to live another day. And, well, pardon me for acting like a doting parent, but I'd like to see you live a good life. You deserve that much and more." Odhranos laughs lightly and tilts his head aside, smiling with a gentle expression that conveys a warm familial affection. The quiet happy moment passes and Odhranos turns towards the crate, crouching to reach into it and remove some belongings, setting them on the floor in a neat line, talking over his shoulder as he does so "I think, for the time being, I will stay here in Frostmaw. I feel happy here, and I'm close enough that I can conduct lessons and research remotely, and maybe when things improve, I might commute to the Tower occasionally. Maybe in time, if I feel up to it-" Odhranos turns and smiles over his shoulder "-I may return to Xalious for good. I don't think I'd be able to stay away from the library for that long. Aha, there it is." Odhranos plucks a single shiny-black shard of material from the bottom of the crate and stands. He holds his hand out, fingers splayed with the shard of hematite in the centre of his palm, and with a silvery hissing noise, a spiral of sand arcs down from the loft, along with the jingling noise of several bronze tokens rattling from the terramancer's satchel beside the armchair. Over his outstretched hand, the hematite slowly lifts and begins floating, while the bronze tokens spiral slowly around it, and the sand swoops in to gather in a small cloud around the rotating mass. With a sudden movement, Odhranos sweeps his other hand down through the air and with a bang, the whole mass collapses between his hands, hidden from sight. Odhranos holds his hands like so for a handful of moments longer, before he opens them, revealing something shiny and metallic in his hand. "Here, for you." Odhranos passes the object across to Karasu, who would find herself holding an ornate stone and metal scarab, shaped from sandstone, with a shiny hematite carapace, inlaid with copper detailing along the segmented legs and wing-case. "That one is a little different from the messenger beetles you may be used to me using. It's a proper tracking beetle. Messenger beetles get lost from time to time, that one won't. Ever. So long as I am somewhere on this continent, it will find me." Odhranos grins as he taps the shiny carapace, eliciting a pleasant sounding ding. "There's little under heaven and earth than can stop a terramancer on the move, so should you need me, use this, and I will find you. I have precious little family left, so I will do whatever I have to to keep my found family safe." Odhranos nods in solemn agreement when Karasu asks him to testify to her attempt to get him to return, and her following question make him smile. "You'll be the first to hear it when it's done. I'll do my best to make it one worth hearing.”

While Odhranos speaks, the Arcane Steward lowers herself into the armchair, idly rubbing at her sore legs. No amount of training could ever prepare these short limbs for trudging through the wilds. Karasu remains silent as he tells her there is no judgement for her reaction to her abandonment of the Guild or that tactical retreats are not inherently cowardly. Slitted eyes continue to gaze into the fire, though they seem somewhat unfocused for the moment. The demifeline scoffs, almost by way of reflex at Odhranos’ doting nature. Despite her indignance, there’s a ghost of a smile that hints that perhaps she enjoys the attention. When the terramancer mentions returning to Frostmaw, she seems to perk up again, turning her head back to face him. The prospect of his eventual return raises her spirits somewhat, though a nagging feeling in the back of her mind tells her this is only being said to cheer her up. She knows better than to question this, though. The wind outside the cabin suddenly increases in speed, as if foretelling something terrible. Karasu seems not to pay the weather any mind, leaning out of her chair to see what it is he’s doing with the bits of bronze and gemstone. The spellblade’s eyes suddenly go as wide as saucers with the presentation of the gift, her eyes sparkling even with her back turned to the fire. “This is for me…!” She exclaims softly, turning the metal scarab over in her fingers while a genuine smile not seen since long before the last Celestial Celebration Ball sweeps across her features. While he describes the gift, Karasu sits back and touches the messenger beetle up into her hair, allowing its small legs to curl around the fringe that nearly covers her left eye. The woman turns back to him to show off its resting place while not in use, though it does reveal why it is her hair had been covering her face since her return: a series of thin black lines similar to veins scars her speckled features, seeming to run directly beneath the skin from where it begins on her hairline at her human ear to just a fingertip’s space away from her eye. So excited to receive the gift, she momentarily forgets the mar, smiling from ear to ear. “I’ll be sure to keep you informed of everything going on so you know what to expect. And if this scarab doesn’t find you, then I sure as hell will. I haven’t given up on my yearly Yuletide wish for your heart, after all.” Karasu teases with a small laugh. So long as it's just in jest, at least, this is fine. Even if just for that one moment, it seems as though nothing ever changed, though there is a pang of guilt at the comment for the fae that still holds part of Karasu’s heart. With the slightest fade of her smile, she wonders if she still holds the fae’s heart as well. As she opens her mouth to say something else, her earring suddenly emits a quiet, high-pitched wail, much like the seaside sirens used to warn of an imminent flood. “What…?” Karasu lowers her head and fiddles with the piece, turning her head away. “I’m *busy*--” She starts to reprimand into the shadows, before her eyes widen with alarm. Her back straightens, her expression suddenly grave. The demifeline looks back to Odhranos, resuming the persona of the unexpected leader. She opens her mouth to relay what she just heard, and instinctively digs her claws into her palm to stop herself. He had just said he couldn’t bear to hear of more bloodshed! “The Guild needs my help. I… should probably go.” Once again, not entirely a lie, but not quite the entire truth. When Karasu invariably departs to check on the situation in Xalious, she withdraws her compass for direction. “Take me home.” She orders to the enchanted object, making her way back through the path left by her footfalls up until the snowdrift covers it. The arcane arrow points her back in the direction of the cabin. The feline gives a bitter smile at this as she notices the last vestiges of the cabin’s warmth leaving her body. “Cute, but now is not the time for this. Take me back to Xalious.”

Odhranos is pleased at how well the gift is received, even something as functional as a tracker can be beautiful and it warms his heart to see someone dear to him cracking a smile, even more after these past few months. When Karasu pulls her hair aside to pin the scarab into her hair, Odhranos’ eyes briefly wince at the sight of the blackened veins expanding like a starburst from around her eye. Though he makes no obvious sign of comment, Odhranos finds himself rubbing his right eye with the heel of his hand, suddenly made aware of the similar alien and esoteric ocular defect he has. The eyes are the windows into the soul, are they not? Odhranos is curious, concerned even, but right now, Karasu is happy, and he does not wish to spoil this for her. When she presents her new hairclip, Odhranos claps his hands together appreciatively. “Radiant!” He exclaims, reflecting the spellblade’s smile in kind, though it does not entirely reach his eyes. Though he does laugh heartily with her next comment. “I pray for the day when some better, more suitable man or woman captures your eye, but if it means that you’ll drop by for tea every so often, then may your Yuletide tradition continue.” Odhranos sticks out his tongue in jest, suddenly feeling like he was twenty-seven again, peering over his desk at this exuberant little demi-feline who, no matter how well he secured the door, she would always find a way in to pilfer his books and steal away his time with her endless endearing questions. How little has changed, eh? Odhranos is broken from his nostalgic reverie by the wailing from Karasu’s earring. His eyebrows dip in concern, and when Karasu turns back, her expression grave, his falls also. “The world stops for no-one, no matter how good the tea.” He murmurs sadly, getting up from his chair and moving over to the door to see her off. Karasu is seen off with a wave and a shout of well-wishing, but when the door is closed, Odhranos sinks to the floor with his back to the timber, alone once again. How painful it is, he thinks, to wallow in the past, but so much more painful, when the past comes to find you, and is happy to see you.