She hides in the shadows, a keeper of peace in the lands of Summer. Her name is hushed whispers on the lips of the people, a warning to corrupt nobles. She heads a legion of thieves known as the ‘Mirage of Ereve’.To gain membership into this elusive legion, ifyou can trace their hideout, requires two things. One: A vow to never kill a person. Two: You must last three minutes in a duel with Aria.
Surviving a week in the harsh conditions of the Ariant desert is a lot easier than a spar with Aria.
Cataloguing the local flora in the kingdom was one of Freud’s favourite past times. The specimen in interest, this cool autumn evening, was the Nocantor flower, the night singer.
No one knows where the name originated from, or why was it called the ‘singer’. However, Freud suspected that the discover of this elusive flower might have been the venerable scholar, Kyna, hailing from the kingdom of Winter.
Kyna, was a scholar unlike any other, despite her hearing impairment. She travelled far and wide, to the four kingdoms and beyond. She wasn’t just a scholar, she was an adventurer. Perhaps she might have witnessed a patch of these flowers whilst travelling in the dark. Alone with her thoughts, she probably recalled how the people of Summer used to gather around bonfires to sing songs of celebration. Songs she never had the opportunity to hear and enjoy.
And yet right in front of her, with hundreds of gently pulsing lights, glowing and dimming at their own pace; she might have imagined the flowers ‘singing’. A patch of flowers glowing together in a choir, or one lone flower shining brightly while others glow softly around it, as if it was singing an aria with an accompaniment.
Freud took a few minutes to admire the flowers, and tried to experience what Kyna felt when she stumbled across the Nocantor centuries ago.
Seasonal Kings: The King who wanted to be left alone.
I inherited not a crown; nor the right to rule. I inherited my predecessor’s sins, my people’s rage and the kingdom’s misery. So tell me, dear Sultan; tell me once again… How I’ve been pampered and naive to the world’s ways.
The Archangel and the Black Widow || Closed RP SKAU
Sigyn had a clear pattern that she’d adhered to: head to the club, find the stereotypical sleaze at the bar, seduce him, get him to bring her back to either his place or bring him to hers, before testing him. If he failed, his execution was quick.
Tonight was no different. She had flashed her way into the club and flirted her way into free drinks from the bartender. She danced a bit, getting the sweaty but sexy look of an inebriated female. The alcohol didn’t affect her much anymore. She’s had to drown her past so much that she needed new buffers. But what she was doing right now? It was her only way of forgetting.
Approaching the bar again, she opted for an iced water. It was mere seconds after she took a drink and spilled a little on herself for a man to approach her.
He was cute, had a fair face, and soft brown hair. The ring finger on his hand suggested a family, and the quality of his suit suggested money. Her place then. She didn’t want to chance a security camera. Flashing him a smile, Sigyn leaned in just a way that made her cleavage pop.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked her, and she gave a flirty giggle.
“Only if you have one with me,” she teased back, watching him in glee as he slid onto the stool next to her. He ordered a scotch, then looked at her expectantly. “Vodka and sprite,” she ordered, knowing this particular club used Gray Goose as their preferred spirits. He grinned at her knowingly, before passing the money over before handing her drink to her. They clinked glasses before drinking, Sigyn finishing hers in one go while he sipped at his. Setting her glass down on the bartop and smacking her lips, she exaggerated her wavering on her stool, pretending to be more drunk than she really way. She batted her eyes at her prey, before engaging him in small talk, little touches here and there.
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