RP:Something Wicked this Way Comes

Part of the Time Heals All Wounds Arc

Synopsis: Penelope asks Kyori if they could visit Pakellin Halifax's grave that night. Kyori agrees and the two go back to the old Halifax cottage in the silent part of Sage Forest. Kyori uses his powers and summons Kiyara to bring the twin back from the grave. Kellin is hard to keep stable as he relives his haunting memory. The spirit warns Penelope about Linken who is "tainted" and tells her not to go into the darkness. Kellin explains how to open the pyramid vault and confessed that a relative from their bloodline sealed the vault, and that meant they were the one to create the curse. Before the spirit is pulled back down, the brother gives off a cold warning--along the feelings of death--and the girl cannot shake the feeling.

Halifax Roots

(1 of 2) The voyage through the seas had been full of seasickness. First the seas to Rynvale from Cenril, and then the seas from Chartsend to Frostmaw and then back to Rynvale. It had been a couple days to get back on her land legs from the voyage. Her face had been mildly wind-burnt from the voyage, yet nothing a little salve could fix for moisture. The Ardelian was not made for cold climates, nor the sea. The moonlight herb was found although with complicated factors, yet nothing Kasyr and her could not handle--though, there was a little trauma to come by. One that Penelope would try to brush off as a dream. A dark dream. Kasyre and Penelope had been an odd pair. A strange pair, but Lionel, the commander, had trusted them both with the task to scope the shorelines. The two were only a piece to help Lionel and the Warrior’s Guild figure out the puzzle of which how Xicotl would be defeated. Maybe. After the journey from Frostmaw to Rynvale, Penelope had made an effort to leave word at Kelay Tavern for the whisperer of ghosts to let him know she was back within the boundaries of Kelay-Sage.

(2 of 2) As the girl sits in the empty shop, she studies the moonlight herb that she kept within a thin pot that she rightly planted until the time had come. The herb that would treat ailments that were externally affecting the skin and internally causing the problems of bleeding. The only two herbs left was the one in the desert climates, and the one trapped inside the pyramid vault. The one with the Ardelian twin symbol etched on it. She had felt bad to keep her distance away from Sofia Ulberg and Leon Lovik, but times were not to her favor, and her fear was to let the two down. Penelope’s lips are in a hardened line, but her eyes remain at ease for the comfort of the herb before resting it on the back shelf. Finally, a moment not wasted, and hopefully she would keep the pattern at rise. Behind her counter rests a picnic basket that is neatly packed and is eventually placed away for her next event tomorrow. Linken. His last day as the amnesiac man. The perfect day they would both find comfort, so he would not be scared of the man who truly held his memories. The real Linken would eventually show soon, but tomorrow, was a day of basking in memories. The girl moves to the open window of the shop as the evening begins to set. She is dressed in a light grey, long tunic that covers a pair of leather, tight leggings and black buckled boots. Over her tunic rests a brown leather jacket to keep the brisk spring air off of it. In the meantime, she is watering other plants. Enough content that she has the shop to herself, and that life is finally falling into place. Penelope Halifax seems hopeful and relaxed for the first time in a while. She still had time. So much time, and tonight she would find more answers with Kyori. He had promised her, and for a promise hopefully he would keep.

(1 of 2) After the search for Emilia in Rynvale, Kyori’d been at a loss for words. He’d been late. He’d misunderstood their agreement and thought to meet Penelope at her shop instead of the docks. Idiot. The healer was safe, at least that’s how he left her, but he had a nagging feeling there was more to it. More she wasn’t saying. The warrior’d stopped by Halifax Roots only once while she was off on her journey and resolved to let that be the only time. He wasn’t her guard dog and she was capable.

(2 of 2) The message came as a pleasant surprise and brought the spell blade ambling through the Sage with his own spring in his step. There was much to do and see. Shining sapphire eyes look up the path to an open window and the silhouette of a fair skinned herbalist. She was safe. He felt the certainty of that statement leeching worry from his bones as he waited. Kyori, this is a little creepy, maybe say hello instead of lurk in the evening shadows. Part of him didn’t want to though. With a sigh the blonde breaks his silence and approaches the window instead of walking directly in to the shop. “Look who made it back in one piece.” He says by way of greeting. The fading sunlight paints his hair a bright gold from where he stands, elbows propped on the window sill. Kyori considers her outfit, her posture, the smell of the air. She is the light between them today. “Closed for the day or can you spare a minute for your favorite customer?” All the tension he’d seen in her before was gone. She looked, if the man had to label the feeling, at peace. Did she solve the puzzle without talking to her dead brother? The vibe he got from her note was one of a call to arms.

Penelope’s gaze finds the blonde’s sapphire gaze. The sunlight etches him differently which makes her smile with grace. Her smile is soft around the edges and genuine as he comes into her sill. A light in the dusk. “And look who checks his sources, you must’ve got my letter,” the Ardelian greets him with the same softly, chipper tone. She would move to the door before parting it to the outside porch with the new planted snake plants and blooming lilies. “Favorite customer?” There is a small smirk at his comment, and eyes roll playfully. “I –guess- you can come in.” Which meant, yes. If he would move past her, she would rush in front of him before back-pedaling with her crooked grin. “I got it, Ky,” his shortened name was clipped easily now off her accented tongue. Sprouted with ease. Full of a decent amount of trust. Her expression would beam before moving to the back counter. Hands would slip beneath the potted plant. The one in the moonlight. The night phlox. The plant is one that is curled until the night light surfaces. Right now, the wine-colored plant is curled while it hides the white, glowing petals on the inside. “The journey was long. We went from Chartsend to Frostmaw to…” Rynvale, Penelope, Rynvale. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter.” She shakes her head to brush down the whole voyage. “It was sort of… difficult to come by, to say the least.” The girl would extend the jar with the proud mannerism.

Kyori gives Penelope an incredulous smile when he enters. “Naturally.” She back-pedals, his name dripped off her tongue like silk. She was so comfortable and light. It filled him with a buoying sense of pride. He’d lied a lot, in their first few meetings. Her cheerfulness reminds him of the slight. Had he been right to lie? Had it mattered in the end? She says ‘we’ and the warrior relaxes further. She didn’t hesitate, was telling the truth. Good, she didn’t go alone. “You have a knack for finding difficult or rare herbs.” It’s a compliment. Kyori bends to examine the jar and gives her a boyish grin. “Amazing work Ms. Halifax. I expected nothing less than the best from you.” He teases, staying close. She didn’t mention her brother still. He’d pry a little then. “Oy Miss, you still in the market for my services?” It’s light enough that it could come off as a joke if she wanted to wave him off. The blonde ruffles his hair, straightening his spine to stand tall. “Do you need a resume or a list of services? Reaching tall things is still one of my specialties.” Which he’d teased her with last time he’d been here. Was there something he couldn’t read in the moment that should be obvious? Dusting off the doubt, he sets his eyes on her again, basking in her light.

Penelope lifts her shoulders in a shrug. A smirk forms across her face when he pronounces her surname. “Well, I also have some connections up my sleeve on where to find certain, said herbs,” pause. “So, for that, thank you for taking the time to look through those books when you did.” It was sincere, and so he could not say anything in return, she continues on with the real reason why he is here just as he does. The healer sort of leans back against the counter and places her hands on the counter edge in a relaxed position. His banter leaves a smaller smile on her lips, yet eyes remain calm. Perhaps she was suppressing her real feelings about talking to her brother. Maybe she thought it would not work, or maybe she just liked bottling her emotions. Either way, his lightness is taken with a roll of her eyes. Every time. “I’ll have you know that I am a very skilled climber of counters and shelves.” The Ardelian then inhales and looks over the tall blonde who is almost a foot taller than her. “Then again, it would not hurt having legs,” she says with an exhale while acknowledging his own. A crooked grin forms. “But in all seriousness,” she presses her biceps down and then hoists herself up to sit on the counter-top. She is more at his level now. “I was thinking… tonight. Well, I guess… here in like a bit,” she was beginning to fumble a little with words. The calmness was still in her facial expression, but her tone of light wears slightly. “We, uh, go? I mean, uh, you know,” she begins to massage a hand against her chest in nervous habit. “Our old cottage is where Kellin rests, I mean.” She did not know how to arrange the words. “I also don’t want it to seem like I’m using you either.” True. Beat. “As much as using you so far –has- been to my advantage,” her words are dry, but it was obviously an attempt at humor--dry humor that was awkward and fast-paced. A hesitant laugh follows through with the weird joke. Asking for help may had been a little out of her comfort zone. There was nothing easy, however, about asking a man to help her talk to her dead brother. That was not normal conversation.

The warrior watches Penelope climb on the counter, bemused. He didn’t notice the height difference on any occasion until they were close. “It’s hard to take you seriously when you just scrambled up a countertop.” He teases as she settles into place. The healer’s brightness folds with her hesitant words. It makes him reconsider why she’d brought him here. He swallows, keeping his expression casual while choking down surprise. “Tonight?” He parrots back when she pauses. Where is she wanting to go? He hadn’t planned anything. Sapphire eyes skate the curve of her lips and he struggles to concentrate.“Yeah, sure, we’ll figure it out as we go.” They spoke over one another. Kellin’s name snaps him back to her actual question. She wasn’t accepting his offer for a date. She -was- talking about her dead brother. Well sh-. He waves that cluster of thoughts away and refocuses the lens of his attention. Easy mistake to make; she’s nervous. “Consider it a price for keeping my secret. I’m indebted. We got the oil, I didn’t bleed out, everyone wins.” Using him. He hadn’t considered the possibility that she was but she could be. He was eager to see her smile and know she was safe. He didn’t hesitate long enough when she asked for help. Her wit was charming, an added bonus to her beauty. Bad timing to be thinking of how it’d feel to kiss her. The urge crested, forcing him to look elsewhere for a beat. He covered the timing with a laugh before looking back. She could be using him but the prince didn’t care. No, the -spellblade- didn’t care. His sapphire eyes turn soft when he looks her way again. “Is the cottage far? I won’t hear of this using business. I can handle myself, especially against a woman too short to reach top shelves.” She’s nosediving, pull it up Kyori. “I enjoy using the gift. It wasn’t well received where I came from.” So put your mind at ease Penelope Halifax. “If you feel that guilty about it, owe me a favor.” An impish grin teases his smile back briefly before he continues. He has to continue. “Are you sure you’re ready?” He asks with earnest inflection.

The Ardelian sort of swings her legs idly. Though, he agrees with her, in a different way--a date--but he agrees, and she feels they are on the same subject at the time in that moment. He seemed eager, and that gives her ease, however, they were on two different planes. One of lust; one of business. Penelope Halifax was a workaholic, could one tell? Moss eyes look over his chest and shoulder as she observes the once wound he inherited. “No, you didn’t bleed out, I suppose. One might say you’re a lucky charm getting out of an injury like that.” There was a faint smile, for she was coming back from the timid fidgets. The warrior was reeling her back in. He was close to bleeding out. So close. He was lucky. Eyes then trail back to his sapphire gaze in a beat. She stares at him for a moment too long as she thinks about the price he is paying, but he laughs and it adds to the comfort of asking for the favor. The small hand drops from her chest leaving a faint red mark from the pressure. The moment sets in again as he asks about one of her multiple childhood homes. “It’s in this very forest. Sage. Just in the quiet parts. The silent part of the forest.” The Silent Forest. A serene environment. Typical. The healer’s freckled nose begins to crinkle, “Ha. Rude. Looking down on the short? You know they do make step-stools. At least I don't bump my head on anything." Fight fire with fire. "Watch me save your ass again one of these days,” she is confident as she gives him a childish grin. Yes, Penelope was back to her brighter self from his snarky behavior. Her head cants at enjoying the gift he possessed. “Well, it’ll be different to see you in your element. I feel like you can pull off some edgy look. Maybe some of that black eye liner paint? I don’t use it, but I see some pretty gothic dudes. Maybe you can dye your hair black too. Then again, you’d look really pale, so maybe not.” Wow, how stereotypically blunt. Though, she meant to say, yeah, his power was a little creepy, but edgy and rad. The woman then looks him over before sliding off the counter. “Actually don’t change at all.” Brief, but true. As he asks about her readiness, she gives him a stoic gaze. “No, I’m not.” Her chin tilts a little. “But a life is in my hands, and it’s my obligation and duty to serve those in need. Even if it comes back to bite me in the ass, so I hope you’re ready. I have a feeling this is not going to be… an easy conversation, and for that I do feel guilty." There's a smile. "So look at that, I –do- owe you. Big time.” The girl then moves around the counter to a nearby drawer to pull out the previous two pendants. She wraps the fire and earth emblem around her neck while sticking the other in her jacket pocket. She then reaches to grab a strange looking pyramid that resembles the tattoo on her left wrist. The octogram. The twin tattoo. Ardelian bloodline. It looked almost like a druidic witch symbol. “Let’s rock.” And with that, she is moving out the front door.

Kyori’d debate that it was anyone else who was crowned as a good luck charm but now wasn’t the time. The Silent Forest. An ominous response. “No version of a ladder that makes you shorter, I’m afraid.” The short had accommodations. The warrior was cursed with height and head injuries. “Again?” He looses a “Pffft” of amusement. He listens, face alight with amusement. Gothic dudes? “Wow” is the only response he can offer through a barked laugh. “Don’t give me ideas.” Her perfervid answer makes him draw in a heavy breath, until his lungs warn of breaking. His blonde hair is near white in the dying daylight, casting a halo of light around him. He was going to talk to the dead while looking light kissed. An incongruous sight. Thank her god or gods for the ending day. His sapphire eyes follow her movements closely. Supplies are gathered, momentum building in their bodies to tell of the impending excursion. His long arms gesture wide, giving her a healthy berth to move past him. "Lead the way.” Followed closely by “You owe me coffee” when he follows her out and into the Sage in the dimming late spring light.

Silent Forest

The two move through the thickets of the forest. “So, you did like my bug repellent. It really –didn’t- keep you away,” she teases as she refers to the coffee she had given him on their quest to find the cerulean flowers. “Coffee is an easy bargain and seems steady. Sitting serene with a cup of what do they call it? Joe? Who is Joe, anyway?” A rhetorical question, for she was just being… her weird self. The evening light begins to cast shadows, though patches of light hit his hair differently and he is a walking white light to her. A sense of comfort swarms her as her mind trails off of possibilities how the evening could go. Kyori was there. Kyori would keep her together, right? Or would she have to him? What would Kellin do? What would he say? They walk for a while, and well, knowing them, they probably bantered off and on for a while. Penelope follows a trail through the forest rather than the middle of town in order to dodge locales. Only one could imagine what people would ask the town apprentice. A hand keeps steady on the satchel she carries full of medical supplies, for she grabbed that too. Birds chirp, and bushes rustle as creatures settle in the evening and watch the outsiders, though there was no fear. As they walk, eventually, the noise of the bustling forest would begin to come to a simmer. The noise begins to fade. Whatever conversation the healer and the spellblade were having comes to a halt. A small hand reaches out to block his torso from stepping forward, for her heart was beginning to pick up it's pace. “We’re close." The sky was purple and was beginning to dim to moonlight, so the moss eyes that look up at the man begin to shade of hazel. Her eyes were steady and collected--for his sake. “Kyori… are you ready?"

Kyori stays the silent sentinel behind her in the start. He smirks at the memory of her bug repellent. She’d promised it then too and is using the memory to tease him. He was a pest, no question. He thought to expand on her curious rhetorical questions but found a peace in letting her fill the world with sound. When she slips into silence, he knows she’s weighing the possible events and outcomes of the conversation with Kel. He wouldn’t disrespect her by offering comforting platitudes about how she would be all right or that he would be right there. His presence, he hoped, would be enough to reassure her. He’d come to help her, they’d saved each other’s lives. He nudges her with his elbow to keep her spirits light. “Whoops, almost hit you in the head.” He teases as they walk. When the stillness and solitude are riotous enough to choke him, she stops them. The warrior can hear her heart fluttering like a caged bird and leans to examine her face. His eyes turn a violet silver in the rising moonlight, reflecting back the earthen hazel of hers. Her face was set but her heart betrayed her. Her question didn’t feel turned towards him. “I am ready Penelope.” The spellblade’s eyes ask if she is okay but the question doesn’t find breath. On impulse, his left hand reaches back to tap the jewelled hilt of his sword. It’s there. It’s safe. His right hand, he opens in front of her. “I’ll need one of the items to start,” Kyori dares a look ahead, searching the ground and brush for evidence of a grave while awaiting Penelope’s direction. “And you will need your dagger.”

Penelope stares at the spellblade as he confirms his readiness. The violet hue of his eyes strain with wonder, and she only gives him a closed-eye nod. Her heart flutters unevenly. At his request, she reaches into her pocket to dangle the item: the other triangle pendant that resembled water and air. The pyramid would rest in her satchel for the meantime, for that was for questioning. The pendant is now extended out to the whisperer. As Kyori searches the ground, the healer fills in the gaps. “It’s under the tree of the old cottage, beyond the lilac bushes,” she points at the lavender colored plants. There were various plants in this forest. He then addresses her dagger that sits on her hip. “Right,” she would then begin to wander forward. Feet would trail towards the bushes and overgrowth that blocked the old path of the cottage. Once through the thickets, a cottage that had ivy grown on one full side of the house. The house was one story and small. There was a half-built porch on the front. Pots of dead plants. A porch Penelope had been building after her brother passed, but she left behind. The porch was covered in leaves and dirt. Some windows broken from kids and scoundrels playing around the abandoned abode. The abandoned Halifax cottage. “I always wanted to finish that thing,” she tries to act easy and casually talks about the porch. Swallowing emotions was kind of her thing. “Put a chair there, maybe a little table for… well, coffee in the early mornings.” Beat. “Hm.” Like that really mattered right now. Dim-lit eyes begin to trace the surroundings of the cottage. An old rickety, wooden yard swing, boxes for gardening that had dead plants. Nothing but dead life. Webs. Overgrowth. Then, there was a tree. A large tree off to the left where that wooden swing rest. There was a stone of black granite with engrained lettering and stones that surrounded the single grave. Linken had buried Kellin's body for her. After that, the grave had barely been tended to, although Linken claimed he came to pay respects. The girl looks to Kyori before pointing forward to the sight. The atmosphere was unsettling in the area and thicker. Perhaps it was the abandoned home and the night sky that was falling through to set the scene. Either way, it was eerie and silent.

Kyori waited, letting Penelope guide their path like a ghost. She’d seen this place before, laughed and loved and cried here. She was a visiting ghost in this stale air, seeing and knowing the things here when they lived. He keeps the pendant locked tight in his right hand. His steps are silent, avoiding twigs and broken glass on instinct. Her words didn’t match the melody of the scene. Those were the words to a different tune. One that existed back at Halifax Roots. Not here, in this abandoned grove with it’s corpses. Her house. Her plants. Her brother. The necklace in his hand heated until it throbbed. He stopped beneath the tree, hesitating only until Penelope pointed towards the grave. The stone caught moonlight and called him forward. Once his feet hit soil saturated with death, he looked back at her as if to ask one more time if this was what she wanted. He sinks down onto his haunches, letting sparks of magic cascade out between his fingers to the ground. “It’s time.” He whispers. Not to Penelope but someone else. The pendant or Kel or another invisible thing. His sister or even himself. The warrior traced the lettering on marker, filling them with blue white sparks that illuminated Kellin’s name. A beacon. He reached his left hand back for her without looking. Whatever bit of flesh she’d decided to cut, he needed it. Presumably it’s her hand, which he’ll take firmly and lead towards the dirt. “On your knees.” He instructed like a commander to a fellow soldier. Standard procedure. Kyori sank down, planting his knees in the dirt beside her before looking at her. “Take the pendant, paint a circle of blood on it and shove it, blood side down, into the dirt.” But Kyori, why all this ritual and drama when you’d seen the ghost without trying in the caves? Pulling a specific soul was harder. Random spirits passed every day like breezes but to pull one out from the others was delicate work. They had to have all the components to pick Kellin out from the others. The pendants, the blood, the grave. There would be no confusion about who they were calling. In the still air the whisperer said her brother’s name. “Kellin.” A passing breeze rustles the leaves and dead debris of the plants. He waited, violet eyes turned to Penelope, listening close to the woods, the wind, her heartbeat. “Kellin.” He whispered with an encouraging nod. Push it into the dirt, Pen. Create the binding that would hold him here for questioning. His head snapped towards the marker, the engravings blindingly bright now. “Yes, Kellin.” He said to the empty space, followed by a rushed “Hurry” as the light curled itself into a tight ball and shot through the dirt.

(1 of 2) Penelope turns into a shadow behind the medium. His feet step over the soil and her stomach begins to coil, and the hollow look on her face nods him along in reassurance. As he turns his back to her, cold sweat begins to form on the back of her neck, and instantly, she is pulling the satchel over her head and shrugging the leather coat off her shoulders. A flowy, loose grey tunic remains now as she tosses her gatherings to the side. The magic that flows from his hand has her hesitant, and the ticking of the heart jumps a beat the moment he sinks a palm to the ground. A foot stays behind her as she watches, though that foot is antsy to backtrack. She, however, remains together at the gravesite. The blue light traces Kellin’s name ‘Pakellin Leroy Halifax’. As the medium reaches for her hand, the small one sets in his, but it is not cut yet until the instructions are given. She looks at him as if she is putting her life into his own in this very moment. The look of trust. The look of there is no one else in the area except him. His face. His light that had shown so brightly in the shop and through parts of the forest. He was the anchor. The nervousness is, again, visible that matches the uneven heart in her chest. Though, like a soldier, she would not hesitate from grabbing the dagger from her hilt. The dim gaze never leaves his own violet one’s as she takes the blade and slowly digs into the flesh of her palm. Eyes then stare down. There is a small grunt before looking down at the pendant that she takes from him. Her hand tightens its grip and a small puddle of blood dribbles onto the triangle while her thumb traces a blood circle. Eyes settle on the grave before she breathes out and places the pendant down at the same time when Kyori mumbles “hurry”. The light would shoot through the dirt and she would rise to her feet and stand back.

(2 of 2) If the light is what she thinks it is (mostly the narrator which is a tentative post based on the other narrator which these parentheses will be deleted fo sho), then the taller twin would be visible. The ghost, however, would not be one of peace—at first at least. Pakellin Halifax resembles the face of the girl yet more masculine. He has freckles, the same eye shape, and wavy, cut-short hair that is also unkempt. He is taller. Lean. In this moment, however, he would be playing any ghostly haunted game of resentment. His left eye is bleeding out and there is a hole where the eyeball should be. The angle of the gash is visible that it hit into the twin’s brain. His torso is stained with what would have been blood from that time ago. A visible memory that the sister would never forget. Anymore reason for a creepy effect. Then again, he could easily change to the original him, but what his image gave was the image of a non-rested soul. “Don’t do it, don’t do it,” his chin would tilt to a disturbing angle. “He wants you, he wants you. He’ll kill you, he’ll kill you.” He keeps repeating words how he died before. Ill. Distorted. One who was still in the moment of his death. One who saw things that others did not. “He wanted you from the beginning, beginning. They’re gonna die. They’re all going to die—die.” The atmosphere would turn almost too tight to breathe on purpose as the ghost rose from the earth. Someone had to say something to this deathly, creepy figure.

Kyori’s body tenses as the summoning unfolds. The bitter tang of death, dirt, and blood fill the space. He watches the light sink down into the dirt. The light he sent was his sister. The light that returns is her brother. The switch is so swift it makes him dizzy. All their blessed gods, Kel wanted to see her too. It would have taken more time if not. Based on the grotesque presentation of his spirit, the deceased Halifax twin did not come in good will. His words echoed around them, everywhere and nowhere. In the grass, in the tree, the earth and the wind. The dead plants on the half finished porch join the chorus until the ghostly rant vibrates through his bones. One look at Penelope tells him all he needs to know in the moment. “Kiyara!” The spellblade shouts, calling the light he’d sent into the dirt back to the surface. The orb spins and whines around Kellin, attempting to sever the spirit from it’s resentments. Her brother struggles against the ribbon of light that is Kiyara as she swirls around him like a May pole. The battle of wills is brief but leaves both Kyori and Kellin looking breathless. The little spirit orb leaves the male twin in favor of Penelope. Kiyara’s light was bright and warm. A safe encouragement and promise for protection. Kyori coughs, trying to keep his breathing visibly even so Penelope didn’t panic. "They won't die." Kyori calls back with unshaken confidence. He shoots Penelope another unspoken promise of protection and gives her a little nod. Speak to him.

(1 of 2) The light that sinks into the ground was the orb. The orb that lingered above the warrior’s head during that time of weakness. Penelope stares at the ghostly figure that echoes throughout the silent forest. The wind howls, and the girl is frozen as she is staring into her past. The resentment was clear—no peace for the twin brother and only anger for the past. The girl is distant now and the orb of Kiyara begins to wrap itself around Kellin’s body and now the twin is staring straight at her as he speaks of her death. Her body feels cold and tense. The emptiness that she felt before now feels like an eternal remorse bubbling in her back. The ghost’s body seems almost transparent, though it seemed like his darkness could make him do whatever he wanted in that moment. Though, the warmth of Kiyara keeps the other spirit at bay and Penelope begins to collects a stronger gaze, although the unsettling feeling she has. Her shoulders slowly loosen up and eyes dart to Kyori who gestures to speak to the spirit. That promising look in his gaze; she would hold onto that. Before she does speaks, she contemplates Pakellin’s words which Kyori had already backfired against. “Kel,” she would coo before stepping closer. “It’s Nel,” pause. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry this happened to you. I’m sorry I did this,” she begins. "You never deserved to die, and it kills me to know you're suffering. I want to help you find peace, but..." She trails. She feels guilty she is about to use her brother for answers. “But I need your help, Kel. I need you to listen, please. We don’t have much time.”

(2 of 2) Pakellin is on the brink of repeating deadly fate when Kyori brushes away the twin’s resented, twisted thoughts. “She’ll die. -She’s- going to die, don't you get it?!” he grunts at the warrior as he tries to break away from the orb full of warmth and light. “It’s dark, so, so dark. Don’t let her go into the dark.” A grim, sorrowful eye stares at Kyori while the other still drips blood. Was his words a message or was it past resentment? Both? ‘Kel…’ the nickname echoes through the air from the Ardelian girl. The orb that is weaved around him makes the ghost tilt his chin up and scream before he dies down. The spirit becomes calm as the warmth overshadows its’ body. A blink and the spirit’s missing eye is recovered to match the other doe-eyed one. A less eerie appearance thanks to Kiyara—a normal one. “I felt it, Nel. I felt the void. The void wants you too, doesn’t it?” The spirit’s tone is a whisper as it echoes the area around them. What, however, was the spirit talking about? The void and emptiness of a missing twin? Because Penelope felt that entirely if that was the case. The male had been ill time ago, and the resentment was slowly beginning to simmer from the warmth of Kiyara. It was truly a warning, but the words were so out of place they would not be able to understand. “Time, though. Time –is- short, and you –wasted- it. You're alone, and you didn't listen. He tainted you. You're tainted, but you can't help it... no one can.” He understands her words, and he is bitter although in a calmer atmosphere due to the orb. His sentences seem more focused now than before, but the spirit still would not be able to give off a proper warning.

Kyori reads Kel’s warning as bitter muscle memory. The context made sense after Penelope’d briefly explained how her brother was killed by her lover Linken. It made perfect sense why he would say these things now. He wanted her, he was dangerous, he would kill her. The kill part was heavy handed but maybe the spirit genuinely believed the man to be dangerous. Linken had been dangerous once. Dangerous enough to kill Kel. The details are foggy on who did what or who was threatening who. Kyori doesn’t look at the ghost’s words too long. It wasn’t his puzzle box to unlock. His job was to remain at attention and protect the herbalist should something go awry. Kel looks at the warrior and utters his warning again. It sounds earnest, freezing the blood in his veins. Don’t let her go into that darkness. Kyori wants to bark back questions, demand answers, but Penelope is addressing the soothed soul with understanding. It’s a conversation out his depth, too personal to unwrap for the outsider. The void. What was the void and why was it calling to the twins? The blonde goes rigid again when Kel warns of wasted time, pinning responsibility sharply on Penelope. Did she waste time by delaying this meeting? Did Kel know she’d eventually come to him? The declaration that the herbalist is alone and tainted makes the spell blade laugh coldly. She was hardly alone. She has allies and apprentices and teachers. Friends and loving customers. It wasn’t his place but he can’t help himself. His anger gets the better of him. “She isn’t alone.” He growls the words without dominating their conversation. What could the ghost mean? Was Penelope alone because she didn’t have her twin? Was she tainted by her love for Linken? How had she wasted time? Kyori focuses on cracking his knuckles against the dirt to distract the bubbling anger that replaces his concern. She wasn’t tainted. She was safe. Kel was lying. His warning was selfish and meant to make her bleed. That’s all he can think but maybe it’s code for information that's helpful to her. “The boy?” He offers Penelope calmly when they next lock eyes. Don’t sit here letting him beat you down. Don’t freeze in guilt or penance. “This isn't a penance little witch.” The boy Penelope aimed to save won’t survive by withstanding her brother’s lashings alone.

(1 of 2) Penelope stares with a rigid gaze at the spirit who confronts her. Lips quiver, yet she does not break emotion. Wasting time? Wasting time in what? She felt successful, well, career wise. The taint he speaks of cuts her internally and does make her sick, and she feels her breath caught in her throat before she pushes the emotion down. Push it down. The spell blade, however, finally laughs sharply. Moss eyes linger on the whisperer, and she moves a hand to the warrior’s shoulder to hold back his anger. Her gaze seems solemn and accepting of the retort given to her, for she was responsible. Years of living the same feeling, she was bound to become use to it, and for that, she would not fight it, nor expect Kyori to fight her battles. The past was heavy, and the love for the metallic-armed elf had faded over time, yet still haunted her to this very day, for she was still picking up pieces of the past. The hand slowly slides off of the warrior’s shoulder and they lock eyes. She holds onto the warrior’s phrase for a split time, ‘this isn’t a penance little witch’. “Believe in this, I’m more than penitent.” Pause. “But, I know what I need to do.” Her tone is raw and cold—guarded. The Ardelian druid then turns away before moving to the satchel on the ground to pull out gauze and wrapping for her hand and the pyramid. “Pakellin,” she says sternly whilst turning around and wrapping her bleeding hand. “A boy from Ardelia is sick. The son of the chief… and he needs our help. How do I open this? What does this mean? A woman from Ardelia says that you and I are the only one to open this up. How?” The pyramid case would be held up to the spirit. The pyramid would reflect the symbol on her left wrist—the octogram. The one the spirit would also wear. She says sternly ignoring any other lashes that the brother may have towards her.

(2 of 2) Pakellin finds his gaze back at Kyori. “Be careful, or you might become tainted too.” The spirit says in a stand-off warning. As Penelope feels the guilt, his nose tilts tall in the intimidating confidence. The warnings would come to an end before observing the pyramid the sister would lift in front of him. “A vault. Reflect on the tree of family-line. Twins, twins, twins,” he would speak in off-putting sentences. The way his memory worked. “We survive by the earth, sun, water, and air. Only four components of life, only four to match the large points of the octogram and open the smaller points locks. Blood. Whoever made this--a Soren.” A Soren. An Ardelian twin-line member. “Open it, you may. The pairing of siblings is the option of choice, though blood remains. Two roads.” Two choices. There was another twin alive from another generation. Then, the gibberish begins to spiral again. “Don’t let her go into the dark, dark. Don’t let her depart. Let her revolve around the sun, sun.” For anymore straight forward tongue, he could not manage, and the resentment would begin to try to break loose from the warm-litted orb's grasp. Those were the only pieces of the puzzle he could manage to give the twin sister.

Kyori’s upper lip twitches with a silent growl. Her brother throwing insults wasn’t penance for the sins she felt responsible for. It was just pain for pain’s sake like trying to fight fire with fire or trying to wash off blood with more blood. Her hand hits his shoulder and he feels a call to stand down. It should ice his veins but he feel a flicker of his anger burn towards her. Is that what she wanted? The warrior wasn’t going to KILL Kel if only because he COULDN’T. Her eyes were stone cold and he felt his face shift to match the resistance before she stepped away. He curses under his breath, focusing dim sapphires on the spinning spirit of his sister. Kel’s warning to Kyori is answered by the spell blade flashing a rude hand gesture when Penelope couldn’t see. Focus on Kiyara. The little spirit is working hard to pull her brother’s negative energy from the interaction. Without Kiyara, Kyori knows this would have been worse. The fear Penelope had of being hurt by her brother would be a real concern. Always a chance but his young sister held the barrier between the worlds. He didn’t understand the terms or chants the Halifax twins exchanged. A boy is sick, the ghost can help, Kyori and Kiyara played middle men. When Kel starts repeating warnings of darkness, the warrior catches sight of the bobbing light. It’s not a bobbing light he sees but a worried, tired look from a young girl. Kiyara can’t hold back the darkness much longer. Kyori stands, wet dirt caking his knees. It’s his turn to put a hand on Penelope’s shoulder without looking down at her. “She can’t hold out much longer.” The implication curdled the air around them. If Penelope had a sentimental goodbye to share with her brother, it’d have to be soon. The light’s orbit slowed, blinking out for a solid second at a time. It had to be now. “Pen.” is his last breath of warning before Kiyara’s little light stops and falls weightless back to the dirt like snow. The ground beneath the male twin would glow, a spotlight to drag him back from where he’d been pulled. An eerie wind cuts in, a rude suitor to steal the last dance. Kyori’s hand pulls up on the hilt of his sword and his stance widens, preparing for the worst.

With the years of growing with the twin who had slowly grown into a different state of mind, she had moments of being able to translate –some- sentences. “Uncle…” Her mouth trails. Four components of elements, but what were the other four smaller points? She was slowly piecing the words of the spirit together. The spirit goes back into the resented tune before Kyori gives Penelope the warning to hurry with the firm hand on her shoulder. A goodbye has her tense beneath the warrior’s grip. Moss eyes fall onto the spirit with almost a lack of words. “You may hate me, but one day, I will help you find peace,” and then Kyori calls out her nickname. “I love you. I will never not love you, no matter how you feel. I won’t leave you. I will find you again.” For peace. For atonement. For getting him out of the dark. Then, Kiyara is unable to hold the spirit any longer. Eyes widen, and the glow of the beneath the spirit has the girl sputtering to let her brother go again. The wind that begins to swirl becomes an intensity and the gaze of the spirit falls back into that bloodied, missing-eyed gaze as his eye rolls into the back of his head before the wind extends his spirit. Between the small distance with the twin sister and the twin brother, the spirits hand extends before pushing its hand translucently against the girl’s chest. The feeling is empty and grotesque. A shrillness that she has never experienced before, and those widened green eyes she has turn the actual hazel as she stares into nothing--what appears to be black abyss of desolation. Cold. Twisted. Angry. The sound within her ears dissipates where she cannot hear the sound of wind, nor the warrior beside her. On the other hand, Kyori would be able to hear the chanting same words the spirit had been producing. “She’s tainted! She can’t fall into it!” The last and final warning the brother would give to the woman before it would vanish.

Kyori’s fingers twitch at his side and over his sword. Kiyara’s too tired to hold the meeting together. As her spirit feathers back to the earth to rest, he gives it a small smile while Kel is melting back into the horror he’d wanted to be. “You were so strong Kiki, thank you.” The warrior whispers, letting his guard drop long enough for Kel to shove his hands through Penelope’s chest. In a flash, he draws his sword, cutting up through the air reflexively to sever the link. His attack against the spector does nothing, the blade meets only air. Kyori dares a look at the herbalist but her eyes looked wrong. Her body was rigid as if every beat and breath was held in Kellin’s grip. Sh-. “Kora!” He screamed in a panic, a new ball of light appearing not from the ground but from his sword. It bolts to Pakellin, creating a shield of light. It forces him back, to vanish, and breaks the contact between the two. Penelope still looks wrong so Kyori waits, whispering her name with guarded concern. What had Kel done to her?! The new orb returns to his shoulder and he casts a quick glance in it’s direction. “What happened?” He asked the orb more than the herbalist. Faint overlapping whispers try to offer explanation but it’s all rough edges and uncertainty. He risks putting his hand back on her shoulder, trying to pull her focus back to the present, to pull her out of herself or wherever she’d gone. She’s tainted, he’d said again, she can’t fall into it. The warrior had questions but making sure Penelope was safe was his first concern.

The touch was quick, but before Kyori breaks the connection, Penelope, internally visualizes the world around her. Specifically her feet. Below was black liquid and as she lifts a foot in the dark of despair, crimson drops come off the bottom of her shoe. Blood. A pool of blood in the pitch black. The only visible light was her own body. As the ball of light unleashes from the sword and cuts Kellin’s tie, the spirit looks at Kyori with the guilt it had before. Something was wrong. Very wrong. The spirit officially vanishes back into the earth and the world around the healer and the warrior turns silent except for the panic of the warrior and the whispers of explanation. In a snap, the girl sucks in a large gasp of air as if she had been on the brink of drowning. Instantly, her bandaged hand tries to find stability and it reaches to find Kyori’s forearm. Her vision sinks back into the moonlit forest and Kyori’s sapphire gaze. Her breathing is uneven and eyes that had been sucked in the emotional pool begin to fade back into that moss color. Eyes stare at Kyori’s, but they do not recognize him before she takes in all her surroundings. Her feet are on the ground, the air is cleaner and does not smell of thick death. The grip of her hand tightens. Eventually her gaze becomes focused. “I couldn’t see anything but…” Her head shakes before her grip loosens because the vision was too concerning for words. Do not let the warrior know—shake it off. Leave him in the dark for his own sanity. “I’m so sorry, Ky. I didn’t mean for it to get so…” Shaky hands now run through unkempt hair in her panic. Push the emotion down, Penelope. Push it down like you normally do. This was not an ordinary moment to process, so she is still off-putting. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” is all she can repeat and say. For who? Kyori? Pakellin? Both? "Let's... get out of here."

(1 of 2) Kyori watches the male twin fall away, guilt in his mangled face. His rage at the spirit won’t let him process how wrong the scene felt. The spell blades focus is back on the herbalist as he feels Penelope come back to life beside him. He turns to catch her and finds her eyes, shattered juniper, clawing out of the darkness. She was... afraid. He whispers her name and gently rests his hands on her shoulders to brace them both. She’d counted on him to protect her and he’d failed. Whatever that was, it was the warrior’s fault. Kora and Kiyara nowhere in sight, he takes a step closer.

(2 of 2) “Pen?” He starts but she’s backing away and he battles back another wave of anger at Kel. It was his fault. No, Kyori, it was your fault. Her hands are shaking and she keeps apologizing. This was all wrong. He did this, not her. Is that why she’s backing away? Is she scared of -Kyori-? She’s still sputtering apologies when he tries to pull her close. If she pulls away, he’ll aim to grab her hand, holding it tightly. Yes, she’s strong. Yes, he’s an idiot. “I’m an idiot.” Dumb male logic makes him feel potective and possessive, especially seeing her so unlike herself. She looks oversaturated in pain. “Wait,” His gruff voice cracks, trying to hold fast to her. “Wait,” He urges quietly again. Kyori this wasn’t the time or place. It could wait until you left this slice of her memories here to rot. Her eyes. He couldn’t. He wanted to make light of it, draw her back to the surface like a lighthouse beacon but...His own heart drummed in his ears. He saw her face when the beast appeared in the caves. When the slime dissolved the bridge. The last time he tried to pull her to him after she’d cut his hand at his behest. None of them compared to this. Damnit. Why did he offer to talk to her brother? Why did he think it would help? His body tenses, afraid she’ll second guess his intention and push him away completely “Are you okay?” Idiot. He knows she isn’t. “What happened?” When Kel touched her, Penelope’d looked like she was going to...die. That’s what his panicked warrior’s mind thought but there was no way he was going to say that to her now.

(1 of 2) Penelope is still trying to fit the puzzle pieces together on what she witnessed. The warning of fate. Death? The brother’s whereabouts? A vision? Hands are collected in her hair as the panic consumes her, and as the warrior pulls her in, she cannot help but feel numb as she focuses more on what happened. Her panicked breaths and apologies begin to cease as he encloses around her. The closeness felt like pity, yet she stays near anyway for the mild steadiness of the man who watched threads of her strength be cut slowly. Once she is able to put words together, she gives herself enough space between them to at least look at him sternly. “No, this is beyond you,” she knew and her voice was solid for clarification. “You’ve done absolutely what was requested of you, and I dragged you into something unknown, and I’m sorry, Kyori. We went in blind.” She speaks of this as if it was an important mission—it was. Leon Lovik’s life was in her hands, and Kyori was just another player in the heroic field to assist the healer. Her accented tone was soft and reassuring. “I got the answers. You did what you needed to do,” she got the answers of the pyramid and… more than what she asked.

(2 of 2) As she attempts to depart, he pulls her back in with the gentle, worrisome plead. The healer stares at him briefly before she abides his pull, however, she is hesitant to look into that blue, prying, and perturbing gaze. ‘Are you okay?’ How would she answer that if she did not know what it meant? The girl never really knew how to feel properly. She supposed it was best to leave it up to the next question. Moss, shadowed eyes stare at him for a long moment as those doe eyes search his moon-lit, waiting gaze. Does she make him worry? Her eyes focus off of him while she speaks. “I.. I saw nothing but black. Though, there was an eeriness like a cold, bitter loneliness and eternal emptiness—anger. I was standing in a pool of,” does she say it? “blood…” Tense eyes move back to his face—truth would suffice, for she was not sure she could hide this one from him. “I can’t tell what it means… I have different thoughts.” Her brows furrow in thought. How many thoughts could there be about such a moment? Death was written all over that. Or was it? “It felt unholy. Nothing I’ve ever felt before.” Beat. Her face loosens that tense gaze. “But there is nothing in my, or your power, to know for certain.” The girl’s hand then traces up his forearm to give a gentle squeeze. That was one annoying trait about Penelope Halifax, she accepted that she had to continue life in order to find out what was around the corner. “Now, please. We can talk about this after a few days of rest—over coffee,” she does a half-smirk and feigns the light from before. She pushes him to agree, and if his gaze turned grim, she would reflect her face with equanimity, for his sanity. “And you don’t have to worry about me and the storms, Kyori.” Her tone is light and graceful. How? “Because without rain, nothing will grow and we won’t be able to move forward. We have the answers for Leon.” The glass half-full. Always. “Now, let’s leave this… memory.”