Quest Alchae No More (Reysin, Aislyn, Phobius)

[Yisanareysin]

Rey made his way to the edge of the destruction, coming to a stop half a pace away from the dust. For a moment, he pondered the possibility that whatever magic or illusion that had disintegrated an entire block was still active, but the sight of giggling children playing safely in the dust put that thought to rest.

Reysin slowly took in a deep breath, his eyes flickering shut. As he focused, his body relaxed unconsciously, and warmth bloomed in his chest. He exhaled, and the sensation followed, rushing to his head, then settling into him comfortably. Opening his eyes, he scanned the area, nostrils flaring as he searched for anything unusual. As he focused on the destruction, he felt something, a hint of something in the back of his throat. Concern growing, he took a step forwards, and hissed sharply.

He'd gotten so used to the slight, nearly undetectable flavor of the illusions that permeated Alvadas, its disappearance came as a shock to him. This circle of dust and stone was, perhaps the most real thing in the city, and yet... Something was wrong. There was the deep, gritty smell of stone all around, but that taste in the back of his throat was mingling with it, developing into a bitterness that filled both his nose and mouth, melding taste and scent into one.

All around, the slightest undercurrent of wrongness, of bile and rot and sickness, and it made his gut clench. Without thinking, he flicked out his tongue, tasting the air, trying to identify the source of it. As Rey padded forwards, his boots sinking into the dust, he shifted his head from side to side, his tongue flicking out with each movement to taste the air from different angles. In this way, he was able to track the wrongness, instinctively heading where the scent was strongest. His stomach churned as the scent sharpened, a foul, unnatural taste filling his mouth and nose. Still, he followed his tongue, barely paying attention to his other senses until a groan caught his attention. Turning, he found, to his surprise, a figure lying in the dust.

Stepping closer to it, he focused, then recoiled. His eyes saw a human, barely moving and missing legs, but otherwise unharmed. But his tongue and nose screamed that this- this thing before him was wrong wrong WRONG, the scent was near unbearable here, the meat was rotten (no, the soul, it was the soul that was rotten.) Gagging on it, he released his sense, dropping to his knees in exhaustion and nausea. He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing deeply, and barely managed to force back the bile rising in his throat. There was no aftertaste from his sense, but he scraped his tongue against his teeth anyways, trying to rid himself of the memory of that unnaturalness.

When he was steady, he opened his eyes, readjusting to relying on sight again. Looking down at the prone figure, he was surprised to see that he recognized it. She was.... Wanda, wasn't it? Kuvarakh's employer, if he recalled correctly. She looked to be in bad shape, but she wasn't bleeding out. There was stone where her legs ended, though he wasn't sure whether they were joined to her flesh, or merely covering it. Fascinating. If it weren't for the wrongness all around, and his own exhaustion, he'd love to sense it, figure out how everything connected, if it did connect.

There was a circle, too, drawn on the ground, empty except for Wanda. Not a speck of dust within, or even around, except where Rey had flicked it in when he had approached. Curious, Rey reached for the circle, then pulled back, thinking better of it. This was clearly some form of magic he didn't know, and he didn't know if the circle might be still active or alive or whatever. Let one of his more disposable companions test that.

The lack of dust and Wanda's survival, all within the circle, suggested one of two possibilities. Either whatever magic of the circle had counteracted whatever it was that had caused this destruction, or this magical blast had come from this circle, and had left safe only Wanda within it. The lack of dust on the edges seemed to indicate the latter, but frankly, Rey didn't know nearly enough about magic to rule out the former.

Wanda would know. But he didn't dare reach into the circle, not until he knew it was safe. "Wanda?" He tried. "Wanda, are you awake? What happened here?"

Snake Tongue : Common : Arumenic

[Aislyn Leavold]

"Ye...no. I was there, but...I don't know," the boy said, visibly struggling with getting his words and thoughts to agree with one another. "I went to the Alchae to find Kuvarakh, and then everything was...broken. Dust. Just...fwoom! All gone. A-and the Alchae...gone, too."
And the Alchae gone too.

Aislyn approached the statement with increasingly unstable caution.
"What do you mean gone? This is Alvadas... It could be… The alch could have just moved, for all we know. It could always be an illusion."
It didn't feel like an illusion. Aislyn had encountered a lot of illusions in her lifetime, even participated in a few herself. Disappearing buildings weren't a groundbreaking thing- even Lyn herself had been the victim of one such disappearing building, sacrificing an entire evening searching for her house as her compass key hopelessly pulled her around in circles- but this felt different. Still, it didn't hurt to approach with a grain of salt.
Then again, if Kuvarakh and Wanda were missing...

It couldn't hurt being cautious, but it also couldn't hurt investigating.

Catching up to Phobius and- unfortunately- Rey, Aislyn tried to figure out what was going on. The streets were definitely gone, yes, but they had no leads on where they had gone.
Except for whatever the wretched snakebeast man was doing. He seemed to be walking with his eyes closed, tongue occasionally flicking out like some newborn cat. Aislyn nearly scoffed, until Phobius leaped after the man like he’d announced ‘the answer to all our problems is this way!’
Sometimes it worried her, how much Phobius trusted Rey.

Reluctantly following the two men, Aislyn noted to herself how unhelpful the procession seemed to be, up until the moment Reysin recoiled from whatever he was doing. It was as if he'd been hit by some unseen wall.
Pondering the prospect that there actually was an unseen wall ahead of them, Aislyn caught up to the man, subtly investigating the possibility. Nothing. No see-through wall there. Then why had he stopped?
Gazing over the wreckage of the street, Aislyn pitched a quiet leer at the man under her breath,
”If you’re going to lead us, then for Ionu’s sake do it right.”
Any excuse to hate the man was a good enough excuse for her.
Which, of course, she was completely content with.

That is, until Rey fell to the ground, gagging.

Out of instinct, Aislyn went to see if it he was alright, though she eventually caught herself, conciously choosing to let the man do whatever he was doing. He’d started this after all. And it wasn’t like there was any reason for him to drop dead…
Except, she soon realized, there was.
And it was a good reason indeed.

Speechless at what lay before her, Aislyn brought a hand to cover her mouth, which, because the majority of her arm was still splotched with dust, resulted in her inhaling the remnants of some acidic stone. Or, as she was painfully reminded, the remains of a person. If she hadn’t dissolved into a pitiful fit of coughs due to the dust now burning her lungs, she probably would have lost what little she had eaten the day before.
Before her, just barely hidden by the collapsed carcass of what she assumed to be the Alchea, was Wanda.

Once she regained herself, her throat burning, Aislyn forced herself past Rey, approaching the circle. Though wary of what magic had caused the destruction, she still felt the need to help Wanda- or at least what was left of her.
With a closer vantage point, Aislyn was able to see the damage disgustingly close. Wanda’s legs were nonexistent- what bloody stubs were left lay just on the edge of the circle, as if cut off by the ring. On the other side of the chalk shape was crumbled stone, in two rough, almost leg shaped piles. Aislyn felt the usual anxiety rising in her chest, but the woman knew she couldn’t panic now. Wanda was in danger.

”Wanda..? Wanda can you hear me?” Her heart began beating faster at the lack of response, ”Wanda, it’s… It’s Maya.” There was a twang in her chest at the mention of the name that she’d so long lied about. Of the three people there, the crumpled woman was the one person who didn’t know about the long-seated lie. And now, she was the one with her life in danger.
Aislyn swore, if they both made it out of this situation, she’d have to tell Wanda everything. Everything.

Wary of the idea of reaching across the circle- just in case the magic lingered within the ring- Aislyn tried to do as much as she could without physically touching the woman. She felt like she was choking again, except it wasn’t dust in her throat this time. The whole situation felt unreal. They had to do something. The only problem was that Aislyn had no idea what. And they weren’t going to be able to do anything at all if none of them were brave enough to wake Wanda up.
So, gently, Aislyn reached over the line, her fingertips just barely crossing the threshold, and set a prayer to Ionu that they wouldn’t turn to dust.

[Phobius]

The Inartan boy was right on Mister Ekans' heels, and kept the distance between them small until it seemed like the Dhani needed more room, which he willingly gave him. Miss Maya joined up with them a moment later, and within ticks the three were making their way through the dust-laden streets in a single-file line.

Finding clues in the crumbly wreckage that the explosion had left behind sounded hard, but Phobius had complete faith in the Dhani, and tried not to mull over his doubts. Though the man's back was to him, the boy could tell by the way that he moved that he was onto something. Watching him, Phobius briefly wondered if his people were naturally good at solving problems and figuring out mysteries. Fighting, too. Mister Ekans was just a bowl of surprises when it came to all of the great things that he could do. No wonder Kuvarakh trusted him, so much.

When the Dhani suddenly fell to his knees, Phobius took a step toward him before going rigid, his eyes widening in worry as he stared down at him. What had happened? It looked kind of like he'd found something rotten, judging by how close he looked to being sick all over the dusty ground, but could it have been something worse...? Was he hurt, somehow? Unsure of what to do, the boy stayed put until the man rose a short moment later, seemingly okay. And then he and Miss Maya were carefully stepping through the rubble, going ahead of him. Wanting to see what they'd found—there was definitely something—Phobius bid his feet to move and hurried over to where they stood.

There was rubble everywhere. The boy figured that they were in one of the destroyed buildings, and let his eyes wander around the place until they fell upon something that was on the ground. Something that was moving. And it was shaped kind of like...well, like a person.

Phobius squinted, but it wasn't until the other two had said the woman's name that he recognized who he was looking at.

Miss Wanda...? he inwardly echoed, staring at her in utter disbelief. She was breathing, thank goodness, but her eyes were closed, as if she was asleep. And if they had found her, here, did that mean that they had found the Alchae, too...? Had it turned to dust, like he'd hoped it hadn't? More importantly, was Miss Wanda okay?

The boy made a move toward her, eager to help, before he noticed something else that tore a feral scream from his throat.

Her legs were gone.

Phobius nearly tripped over his own feet as he hastily drew back, a volatile mixture of terror and repulsion overcoming his features, blanching his already-pale skin. Her legs...but...but how...? Did they, maybe...could they have turned into dust like everything else? Was that why they were gone?

The boy tried to make sense of the whole thing in his mind, but found that he couldn't, his knees threatening to buckle as his legs began to tremble beneath him. Maybe I'm seeing stuff...maybe this is just another illusion, he mused as he started toward the woman, again, albeit much slower than last time, wanting vehemently to believe that none of it was true. But Miss Wanda's horrifying injury became clearer once he was close enough; he could see the stumps that were left to stick out of her waist, their ends matted with crumbled dirt and flesh. And then he couldn't look at her, anymore, slapping both hands over his mouth as a sick feeling seized his stomach.

Phobius was able to get a few feet away from them before he lost his breakfast, along with whatever he'd had for dinner the night before. Fortunately for him it hadn't been much, but his body expelled all that it could, leaving him hollow-bellied and light-headed, with a scalding feeling in his throat and an unpleasant, bitter taste in his mouth.

He didn't head back until he was sure that it was over, and stopped when he was near enough to be able to hear what was being said, unwilling to go any further. As concerned as he was for Miss Wanda's health, and as much as he wanted to help her up and make sure that she was okay, his stomach didn't feel like it'd be able to take much more.

"This is speech in Nari."

This is thought.

[Fable]

As the three picked their way across the dusty landscape, eyes set steady on the group, peering out from under the shade of a nondescript hood. The figure stood off in the distance, almost camouflaged in the mess of dust and rubble. As Phobius let out his scream, the figure disappeared, body fading into the shadows it had come from as if it had never been there in the first place.

Neither Reysin's nor Aislyn's responses elicited much of a response from the unconscious woman. She shifted slightly, the stubs of her legs sloughing off a thin layer of dust to join what lay around her still. When Phobius let out his cry of terror, however, her eyelids began to flutter open. Her impossibly weary eyes landed first on the concerned features of the woman she knew to be Maya, but the flicker of recognition in her gaze held little warmth or appreciation. They shifted to land on Reysin, where they lingered with a hint of curiosity. With effort, she pushed herself up to a seated position, teetering slightly as she realized she was missing the majority of the legs that would have been able to stabilize her. Her eyes fell to the stony stumps, lips a steady, straight line as she stared with an emptiness that seemed to reflect the barren nature of the decimated block.

Fortunately for Aislyn, her fingers passed through the ring with no negative results, though her hand was weakly brushed away by Wanda's as she shook her head, voice faint and quivering but not without force enough to assert she did not want the help offered. "He's gone." The words were deadpan, bitterness and self-loathing filling every syllable. Wanda continued to stare down at the stumps on her legs, eyes dry but holding in them the glimmer of tears that seemed almost foreign when paired with the empty nature of her features. "I tried to... to-" Seemingly for the first time, she seemed to realize that the shop was gone. "Oh gods..."

The four of them sat and stood in the back room of the Alchae. What should have been walls and ceilings around them were nothing more than feeble bits of gravel and grit. The destruction was expansive, spreading through a sizable portion of the city, and people were beginning to find that the illusion was, perhaps, not quite so illusive. The children's laughter had died down, their small bodies having been steered away from the destruction by hands of their elders, eyes glancing over the area with a quiet, unspoken knowledge that it was best not to linger. A few of the bystanders noticed the four figures that were situated in the middle of the blast's diameter. Those that saw them only shook their heads, quickly disappearing into the growing life of the rest of the city.

While those who had gathered around Wanda were unaware, the city itself had shifted. No road led back to the clearing any longer, and as the last of those present ambled down the streets, any attempt to leave would result in stepping back into the dusty block from a different direction.

Wanda's shoulders slumped, her voice shaking even more than before as she tried to draw in a calming breath. "W-what have I done?" She turned to Maya, the ally she had refused only chimes before sought with a strange sort of desperation. "What happened? This- This isn't real, right? I'm- I'm dreaming, isn't that right, Maya? He's coming back... He's..." She began to shake, the tears straining at what little control she had over them. "I thought... I just wanted to..." Small streams of bitter regret began to spill from the brim of her eyes. "Oh gods, what I have I done..."

As the woman began to break down into a quivering mess of silent sobs, a figure appeared in one of the archways. He wore a silvery suit, a sheen like the glass of the buildings around him reflecting the morning light like that of a star in the night sky. His beard was a soft azure, tumbling from his jaw like a delicate bunch of flowers, coming to taper about the middle of his chest. Stark white hair matched his pale, creamy skin, the only darkness of his features the stare with which he beheld the scene. None of the four noticed his appearance, nor were they particularly drawn to him as he remained, watching, with all the atmosphere of a gathering storm.

[Yisanareysin]

Phobius's scream echoed in the emptiness, yet Rey hardly even noticed. His mind barely registered anything around him as he watched, transfixed, as a small, human hand reached tentatively past the edge of a circle. From her hesitation, Rey suspected that the illusionist had the same reservations about touching what might have been active magic that he himself did, yet her willingness to risk her fingers just to touch Wanda spoke of either her utter stupidity and recklessness, or a bizarre amount of loyalty to a woman she was presumably not related to.

Humans were such odd creatures. Still, no dust crumbled from her fingertips, save what was already there, so at least now Rey knew for certain the circle was deactivated, or unmagicked or whatever you called it. And Wanda was stirring now, her eyelids flickering. She looked between the illusionist and himself, but her eyes looked dead to him, bare windows with nothing behind them. Even the sight of her missing legs seemed to conjure up no emotion in the human.

At Wanda's words, Rey raised an eyebrow, curious. He? So, someone else had been in the shop with her. Kuvarakh, most likely. Caught in the blast? And it seemed like he had been correct, that this magical blast had come from the Alche, presumably from this magic circle thing. That was concerning. Very concerning, frankly. He hadn't realize that magic could go wrong this badly, and on such a large scale. When Wanda began to cry, Rey put on his best approximation of a sympathetic face, but said nothing. Let the illusionist do the comforting, she seemed to be good at that. Sort of.

If this really was the cause of the explosion, it'd be right in the center of the circle of destruction, wouldn't it? Looking up, Rey glanced around the area. The buildings did all seem to be equally far from them, but it was only a rough guess, not enough to be really sure. But... there was something odd. Something off. He looked around again, and finally noticed that they were alone now. The children playing in the dust, the adults peering in from a safe distance, all gone.

Odd, but not unusual, he supposed. People gravitated towards a disaster, then disappear once they'd had their fill of morbidity. He turned back to Wanda, now sobbing quietly.

"What happened here? What'ss thiss circle? And who'ss he?"

Snake Tongue : Common : Arumenic

[Aislyn Leavold]

Calm.
Caaaalm down.
Wanda’s fine. She’s okay. There’s three of us here. One of us can help her.
Wanda’s okay.
"He's gone."
The voice was so weak. Monotone, and full of a sort of malice Aislyn had never heard from the kind-hearted woman she’d known before.
Wanda was not okay.

Aislyn had been working on keeping her mind together since she’d ventured out from her home, what felt like a year before. When she’d first signed up for ‘odd jobs’ and adventures. She’d started helping herself, and it had worked. In her art, she drew more of what she saw internally, instead of externally. She became more active outside. She visited Ionu’s landmarks more often, appreciated more in life. Her panicking came less often. She was less anxious, slowly becoming the ‘Maya’ she so long had projected herself to be. Her illusions often changed her way of thinking, but they always stayed in their lanes. She never acted as ‘Maya’ while she was Aislyn, and never as ‘Thief’ when ‘Maya’. But now the lines were beginning to blur. ‘Maya’, with her increased use, was becoming part of Aislyn, allowing more confidence. More adventure. More personality.
But that left her open to attack.

Faintly, Lyn heard Rey speaking to Wanda. She felt like she was detached from the world around her. The second her fingers had crossed the lines, almost touching Wanda’s ruined body, the reality of the situation had come crashing down on her head. Alvadas had turned to stone and crumbled, with who knows how many victims in the way. Aislyn and Wanda were almost in the way. Lyn herself had nearly been crushed, and Wanda…
Her eyes lingered on the stumps of flesh that were now the woman’s legs.
Wanda was definitely not okay.

In her glazed state, Aislyn fought to produce words- to take action. Now that she was sure she wouldn’t turn to dust by crossing into the circle, she could help Wanda, right?
The illusionist leaned forward, shifting her weight to catch the elderly figure if she fell. Lyn remembered Wanda seeming relatively spritely when she'd last appeared, but now... She just seemed so old...

"What happened? This- This isn't real, right? I'm- I'm dreaming, isn't that right, Maya? He's coming back... He's..."

She wasn't helpless. Neither of them were. Wanda was twice her age, but Aislyn still felt like she could relate to her.
Reaching out her arms, Aislyn cupped Wanda's body, holding her mangled limbs as far out from her own body as possible, while still keeping a good hold.
Bracing herself, the illusionist pushed herself up, lifting the jittering figure that was Wanda up from the glyph-lined circle. Her already-shaking body began to noticeable sway with the added weight. Still, the strain felt distant.

With Wanda close to her body, she could speak more easily to her with confidence that the crippled woman would hear. Her chest felt like it was tied in a knot, and her breathing was quickening, but Aislyn managed to speak in a hushed, almost whisper.
"Who's he, Wanda...? Kuvarakh?"
The name brought a new twinge of pain to her chest and throat. The man had been missing since fall, and with what had happened to the Alch...
"Is he here, Wanda?
Hope was a rare thing to come by, but Wanda gave one single chance at finding out what had happened to their lost Nuit employer.
Though if Wanda couldn't answer... They had more important things to deal with.
It seemed all the children were gone, dragged away by elder counterparts, or scared away by the scenes in front of them.
Either way, the trio was alone with Wanda.

"...Phobius?" She swallowed hard. Her eyes were dry, her face clear but for some dust from the earlier collapse. Still, she had trouble speaking.
"Wanda... Is fine. She's just tired. We'll get her somewhere safe, and..."
Aislyn's dry eyes were a stark contrast to Phobius' petrified face. The woman twisted her torso so Wanda's feet- or lack thereof- were facing away from the boy. He didn't need to see this.

Maybe Wanda was right. Maybe this was a dream. It certainly felt like one.
But this ‘dream’ also most certainly had consequences, and it most certainly would only get worse if they didn’t do anything to prevent that.
It took her several tries to begin speaking- her throat felt completely closed over- but finally, in a relatively solid voice, Aislyn managed to spit out four words:

"We need to go."

[Phobius]

Standing at a "safe" distance, Phobius was silent as he watched Miss Wanda rouse herself awake, faintly aware of the trembling in his legs that he couldn't seem to stop.

After a moment of looking around and taking in their faces, the woman began to speak and, although her voice was quiet—she may as well have been whispering—Phobius took it as a hopeful sign. If she had enough energy to make words, she was probably okay...well, save for the fact that she had lost her legs. That meant that she couldn't walk anymore, didn't it? Unless it was possible for a person to walk around on their knee-stumps...

The thought was enough to make the boy's stomach give a threatening lurch, but he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to will the feeling away, not wanting to get sick, again. Even if there wasn't any food left to get rid of, it would still feel horrible.

Once he was sure that the feeling had passed, he opened his eyes back up, just as Miss Maya was kneeling beside Miss Wanda to scoop her into her arms. And all the while, the tired-looking, dust-covered, legless woman spoke, sounding on the verge of absolute despair as she went on about what she had "done" and how someone—a "he"—was apparently gone, now. It was all pretty vague, but enough had been said to make Phobius wonder, and the more he wondered the stronger the fear within him grew; it was a fear that had existed ever since he had come upon the petrified street, its buildings crumbling, the sidewalks layered in dust...a fear that had only grown when he'd found what was left of the Alchae.

"Who's he, Wanda...? Kuvarakh?"

Phobius nearly winced at the question. It was as if Miss Maya had been able to read his mind, seizing his fear by its core and bringing it out into the open. Desperately wanting an answer, the boy stared at Miss Wanda and waited to see if she would respond. Then the woman who held her turned and faced him—sort of—and announced that Miss Wanda was more or less fine. Just tired. They also needed to leave.

"B-but where do we go...?" Phobius asked, somewhat surprised at the tremor in his voice. "I m-m-mean...all the buildings are...c-could we take her to your house?"

He then paused and, with a worsening tremor, added, "And w-what about Kuvarakh?"

"This is speech in Nari."

This is thought.

[Fable]

The Dhani's question was met with a hollow stare, the woman's reddened eyes seemingly lacking the comprehension needed to give him any definitive answer, though the weary woman did utter a soft "It wasn't supposed to..." before she let out a sharp cry of surprise as Aislyn gently hoisted her into the air. There was fear in her voice, but it faded quickly into a monochromatic melancholy as her body found little reason to struggle, just as it had found little reason to do nothing more than lay where it had fallen.

As she dangled from Aislyn's arms, a limp mess of limbs, the name of "Kuvarakh" brought light to her eyes yet. She struggled against Aislyn's hold, though the effort was comparable to that of a wounded kitten in the healing clutch of a Jamoura. "H-he... I..." A pause was taken for breath, short gasps of effort as several tears slipped their way down her face, cheeks blushing with what could have been embarrassment, simple effort, or both.

As the four unlikely fellows stood within the destruction's center, the man with the lavender beard and pristine ensemble had grown nearer. Others seemed to have found their way into the dusty clearing, yet they did not speak. Their presence, like that of the man's, was unobtrusive. Something about the silent manner in which they moved, in spite of their relatively exorbitant livery, cast the situation in far more an ominous light than the morning sun dancing off of the glittering surroundings that bordered the expanse of destruction.

Along with the man, there were two others: a woman, bald as a newborn, who's legs had been replaced with tentacles, gently swaying beneath a dress of kelp and sea foam, and another man, though this one was far older than the other, his face a mess of colors - reds, yellows, and purples - with a beard and turban who's colors seemed to switch with every blink of the eye. They stood equidistant from each other, their figures stark in the barren landscape had any of the four taken time to notice them.

At Aislyn's reassurance, Wanda seemed to regain what was left of her coherency. "I'm not fine!" Her voice sounded impossibly loud as she gave a great, unprecedented thrash, throwing herself from Aislyn's arms to land back onto the ground with a thud of flesh upon stone that rang somehow hollow, as if a child, not a woman, had just been dropped to the floor. With shaking voice that scratched and caught on her own clumsy tongue, Wanda continued, her gaze now burning with an intensity that was not unlike hatred. "H-he never c-came back... Gone. J-just like t-that." She snapped her fingers, the motion muted by her own shaking hands. "I didn't... I though I could... I needed him! I-" Her voice hitched on the emotions welling up inside of her, forcing her to take several gulps of air while she fought off attempts to assist her, real or imagined.

"T-there was still work to do..." She had quieted some, her eyes falling to Phobius' boots, though the stare itself seemed to be directed into the past beyond any focus in the present. "I tried to- to do what he did. What... What Kuvarakh did." Finally the ambiguous pronoun was given name, and the name itself was spat out into the dirt, like some poisonous venom sucked from a fresh wound. "It was wrong. All of it was wrong. The circle... The f-formula..." She shook her head, shoulders slumping as she fell forward some, the weight of both her action and the toll of her bodily trauma draining what strength she had left. "I did this... He's gone and I did this and-"

Phobius' question was answered by a new voice, one which carried over the wreckage as easily as a bird in flight. It was light, airy, almost breathy in its tone yet possessing body enough to carry with it an authority that could not be denied. "You will go nowhere, Phobius. Nor will you, Yisanareysin, or you... Maya." The man with the lavender beard had been the one to speak, though the beard turned out to be a mess of purple flowers, twisting down from his jaw to create what seemed to be a living bouquet of floral facial hair. When he spoke Aislyn's pseudonym, there seemed to a hint of knowing glint in his eyes, though it could have certainly been the light of the sun's reflection bouncing off of the refractory nature of the buildings.

Both the other man and woman had stopped a distance away, letting the dapper young man deal with the group, neither of them seeming too terribly invested in what was happening. "Sp-Speaker... Oh gods..." Wanda's hands seemed to shift, as if she meant to scramble away, but while the will seemed to desire it, the body simply lacked the capability. Instead, her fingers simply dug into the ground beneath her, two of the nail breaking with the intensity of her search, letting thin trails of blood drift onto the only circle within the block that was not covered in dust.

"Wanda." The man stared down at her, something close to pity in both gaze and tone as he took a step forward. "It would seem you've made a mess of things." His hand, gloved in pale white silk, moved in a sweeping gesture to encompass the surrounding area. "Have you forgotten our agreement?" She shook her head, words lost as she broke from his gaze, frantic eyes flicking first to Reysin then to Aislyn before they were drawn back to those of the Speaker's. "Perhaps you would like to enlighten your friends here, I'm sure they would like to know what exactly is going on." He paused, raising a brow at Phobius in a quizzical manner, as if he had made a presumption based solely off of information he wasn't entirely sure of.

Wanda only shook her head again, finally able to shift herself back a few, pitiful inches backwards. "Very well." The gentleman turned towards the painted face of his male companion.

The elderly figure, bent some with age and some under the weight of his various, loosely hung robes and shawls of varying colors, nodded, his lips turning into a smile that lacked several teeth. "If'n I rememer corretly, s'was somefin like... 'I wun blow up anyfin, be all careful lie.'" He waved his wrinkled hands, as if the quote was far more an approximation than a true retelling. "An tha... Alakamy?" Here, he raised a brow at the woman, who replied in a rolling base "Alchemy", to which he nodded and repeated, "Alakamy. Be safe an tay risk nay 'tal." He stepped back then, finished with his garbled explanation.

"Correct, more or less." The man turned his attentions back to the three, businesslike in the manner in which he switched between them. "She made a promise, one that seems to have been broken." He tilted his head, arms rising to cross in front of him as his clear blue eyes seemed to swim with consideration. "I would like to know what you think, Yisanareysin, Phobius, and... Maya." At each name, his eyes feel upon the respective owners, little else but curiosity glowing behind them.

"What would you have done with those who have broken your trust? Deceived you? Harmed those whom you love?" The breathy, airy flow of his voice carried with it a strange lack of attachment to what it was he said. There was no inherent plea to the collected individual's emotions, only a subtle reminder that Wanda had, quite definitely, killed hundreds through an act that she had knowingly committed in spite of preventative precautions given. He waited, expectant, and neither he nor the other two individuals would say a word until all three of those gathered had said their piece. All the while, Wanda shook in the middle of those gathered, silent tears slipping from her eyes to land soundlessly upon the ground beneath her, little else to contribute but the occasional, quivering sob.

[Yisanareysin]

Alright, so it turned out that the illusionist was not, in fact, good at comforting. Not even sort of. "She's just tired" was a phrase that might have been reassuring had it not been referring to a woman missing her legs. Judging by the fact that the little courier looked like he was about to vomit, it seemed he thought so as well.

As did Wanda herself, it seemed. The woman let out an angry shout, squirmed out of Maya's grasp and began to ramble. It was difficult to understand her emotion choked common, but it sounded like... someone had left her? Something about Kuvarakh went wrong? And then the damning phrase.

"I did this"

Well, that was a problem. So his guess had been right, and the blast had originated from the circle she'd been in. Some kind of magic, whatever alchemy was, gone wrong? And his companions wanted to take her somewhere? As long as he wasn't implicated, he supposed he'd be willing to go along with-

Speak of a Baral and a Baral appears. Rey closed his eyes, fighting down panic as he heard the voice command them, and speak his name. His true name. How could they know? He hadn't used that name at all since he had left- no, that wasn't right. He had, once with the spider in the Garden, and once more in the Underground. Siku's scales, had they been watching him, all that time?

Turning to the voice, Rey found his eyebrows raising involuntarily. With a gleaming suit, white hair and a purple beard, the man was quite a sight. Which... in Alvadas, perhaps made him a figure to be taken seriously. A quick glance behind the man revealed two other, equally odd looking newcomers. A bald woman who looked like she'd be more at home in the sea, and a decrepit old man constantly changing colors.

Then Wanda spoke, and Rey felt his stomach do a flip. Speaker. Siku preserve them. At least it wasn't the Silencers, he supposed.

The man stepped closer to speak to Wanda, and something caught Rey's eye. His beard.. it wasn't hair at all, but a tangle of violet flowers. Somehow, that made him even more ominous. He wasn't sure if they were attached to his face, or growing out of it, and frankly, he wasn't sure he wanted to.

Then the ancient, colorful man spoke. From the reactions of the others, he supposed it had to be common, or at least something vaguely understandable, but Rey couldn't catch a word of it, except for the phrase "blow up", which frankly, did not fill him with confidence.

Fortunately, the bearded man provided enough information for Rey to fill in the gaps. He hoped. He assumed the promise she had broken had been something like "I promise not to turn my shop and everything and everyone around it into piles of dust." The man spoke again, looking directly at Rey for a moment before turning to Rey's companions. At his words, the snake let out a soft, almost inaudible sigh.

So. This was judgement then. There was no doubt in Rey's mind that his companions would beg for them to spare Wanda. If he supported their decision, it might earn him some good will from them, especially since the bearded man didn't seem to be pushing them towards a specific decision.

On the other hand, Rey had the distinct, slightly paranoid feeling that the man would know, and be displeased if they answered anything but honestly. The Dhani couldn't have cared less about the humans who had died here, but that wasn't what the man was asking. If something like this had happened in the nest, he, and every other Viper would be hissing for blood to be spilled.

What he wouldn't give to have access to his sense, to be able to look for some clue as to what the right answer was. The best he could do was a sort of compromise. Reysin took a few moments to gather his thoughts, and his common, then spoke carefully, watching for any reaction from the three.

"Wanda hass no wish to hurt others, and hass been harmed hersself in thiss accident. Her crime iss not being careful enough, and trying to do more than she could." He frowned slightly. Stressed out, some of his common was deserting him, but he thought he was getting the message across. "Take her magic, so thiss never happenss again. Payment too, a-" he scrambled for the word "-a fine, to rebuild."

He hesitated, then gestured to the legless woman sobbing on the floor. "She hass done more to hersself than you could, already."

Snake Tongue : Common : Arumenic

[Aislyn Leavold]

"But where do we go?"
Ah. She hadn't made it that far in planning.
Looking up from Wanda's quietly whispering form, Aislyn tried to spot something- anything- that wasn't coated in dust. The only thing she gained from looking up was a chill down her spine. And not only from the sight of the ruined city; there was something else behind her feelings. Something that left a lasting feeling of dread. But there was no time for that now.
Wanda twisted in her arms lightly, though it seemed that Aislyn's grip was too tight on the mangled form. There was a moment of silence as Kuvarakh's name drifted in the air, but no response. Only sobs.

It seemed like the worse was over.
At least, until Aislyn tried consoling Phobius, which made Wanda decide it was a good idea to push herself, full force, out of Aislyn’s arms.
And just like that, the story began to unravel.

Where Kuvarakh had gone, what had happened to Wanda afterwards. Aislyn found herself retreating from the semicircle of Phobius and Reysin surrounding Wanda. She'd done what she could. The woman had rejected her help, now. And the more she spoke, the more Aislyn found herself shaking, yet the less fear she had. This was Wanda's fault after all. It was of her doing, and her decision. She should have waited.
Waited for what?
There was a small objection from the back of her mind. Kuvarakh had been missing for over a season now. He'd provided employment for- or was provided employment by- everyone that was in the premises around her. He was genuinely a valuable asset to Alvadas; his work had provided Aislyn with a way to live, after all. And doing what she was genuinely good at, as well.
If he never came back...

There was a lot of people who would never be coming back after this. People who left in a far less just ending. People who now rested in the ashes of Alvadas. People who were, now, ashes themselves. But they were nameless, faceless people that Aislyn would never meet. Wanda, however…

It was time to leave, even if there didn't appear to be anywhere to go. She knew which way her home had been. If they could make it there...
"You will go nowhere, Phobius. Nor will you, Yisanareysin, or you... Maya."
In the clearing, a man- taller than what felt like Rey and Aislyn combined- stood uncomfortably close to them. A man who, though stark and colourful in his features, had an self-effacing presence. A presence that left Aislyn feeling quite inadequate in her own presence. But not afraid.
Not yet.
It seemed there were others around him, too. Others who had been watching the trio- and Wanda- for what the woman could only assume was quite a long time. He spoke with a sense of knowing that distanced him. A sense of knowing that was mirrored in his eyes when he spoke Aislyn's name. Or rather, Maya's name. That was the moment she was sure. He was a speaker.
He had to be- the odd appearance, the knowing mien, and the way he casually knew the details of what had happened, all repeated without skipping a beat. A Speaker had come to deal with them, which meant there must have been Listeners around, perhaps even before the explosion. Perhaps victims of the explosion.
At least they aren’t Silencers, she thought, but there must be an endgame. There always was, and it didn’t take long to come to light.

"What would you have done with those who have broken your trust? Deceived you? Harmed those whom you love?"
He wanted them to make a decision, a ruling, on Wanda’s life. Either that, or this particular Speaker wanted entertainment before he wrought justice. Or, at least, whatever he deemed was justice. Aislyn was getting the feeling it didn’t particularly matter what they said; Wanda’s condition could only go downhill.
Forcing her shaky mind to think rationally about the situation at hand, Lyn weighed her options. She could throw Wanda to the wolves, sacrificing whatever respect Phobius might have for her, or defend her, possibly sacrificing herself if the Speakers disagreed.
Steeling herself, Aislyn began to pull back from her previous panic. She had the situation under control. The situation that she still couldn’t entirely convince herself was real.

”Wanda... Did break her promise. She did break the trust of those she promised. She may have harmed many, but you make it seem… Make it seem like you were personally wronged. When Wanda made her agreement…” For a moment, Aislyn’s eyes flicked back to Wanda’s writhing form, ”...did she promise a Speaker, or Ionu themself?”
She was stepping on dangerous grounds, questioning a Speaker. Still, despite the interestingly worded explanation from the elder representative, some things about this agreement weren’t clear. Like, for example, wouldn’t Kuvarakh have made the same promise? In which case, since the establishment was theirs to share, would Kuvarakh be held responsible as well? Or had he already been dealt with?
One question at a time.

”There has to have been Alchemy… mishaps in Alvadas before now. What punishment fell to those who broke the agreement before?

OOCI've returned from vacation, and will hopefully be catching up to replies soon