Tracy dismissed the servants who had brought her belongings over to the city lord's private portal room and turned about to smile at Émilie who had come to see her off. They both stood before the building housing the portal, the sky clear and the wind pleasant. Tracy thought it was mocking her.

Pity you have to leave Tracy. There would not be another chance to visit Sealarios with such leisure,'' Émilie said.

Tracy shrugged, tucking a pair of four fingers into the pockets of her pants and rocking back and forth on her feet. ''You know what they say Mili. Health first and all that bamboozle nonsense the imperial physicians like to spout. But you are probably right. I don't think I would ever get a chance to return to Sealarios.''

How do you feel now? Do you think you can make it through the portal without throwing up on the other side?''

"I'm alright. The symptoms only show up from late evening through to the next morn. I think I can manage a single portal."

I'll take your word for it then. Have a pleasant trip, Tracy. Focus on recovering and do not think too much of Sealarios. I don't think you would miss much anyway.''

I would have an easier time believing that if the general atmosphere didn't look so very inviting.''

Tracy's gaze drifted up to the sky and she stared at it wistfully for a while before suddenly squinting.

"Do I imagine it, or is the Grand Ward no longer present?" She said out loud.

"What do you mean no longer..." Émilie trailed off as she glanced up and found the sky devoid of the transparent, vaguely shimmering, golden ward that normally got in the way of the sky. When she looked back down, Tracy had already pivoted about on her feet and was walking toward the portal room purposefully.

"What are you about to do Tracy?" Émilie questioned her aide.

"Well, I plan to make sense of what is happening. You know; have a quick look at the island," Tracy replied.

"And you plan to do that how? By scaling the building?"

"We are atop a hill, Mili. It should give me a good vantage point.''

Émilie put a hand to her forehead.

"You are ill, Tracy. Why must I be the one to remind you not to stress yourself?"

Tracy turned to face the Maeser. "Do you have a better idea?" She challenged.

Émilie frowned at her for a moment.

"Just take care," she muttered at last with a sigh.

I will Mili. It shouldn't take me much to get to the height I need,'' Tracy assured her, and with a quiet grunt, pulled herself onto the wooden railing encircling the balcony and from there onto the first tier of the building's roof. Quick, concise movements and mesmerizing cartwheels found her at the fourth and highest tier of the roof in little time.

The girl sat on her haunches, a hand on a beam, as she stared out at the sprawl of houses below her, and the swirling chaos vapor that swallowed everything from about a couple streets from the city lord's manor and was quickly thinning.

Tracy's eyes widened and she swallowed. She turned to her left and saw the same scene. The young girl didn't need a seer to know that it was the same everywhere else. She shifted uneasily on the slanted beam upon which she perched as it dawned upon her that she and Émilie had escaped the influence of the corrupting vapor due to dumb luck since the manor was located at the center of the island.

Oh well. That would be remedied.

Tracy slid down the beam and pushed off in a forward flip as she neared the end. She bypassed the third tier entirely and landed on an outlying beam on the second tier in a perfect T pose. A quick handless cartwheel to the side and a push off the tiles of the first tier found her landing on the ground in a crouch, her head lowered. She looked up to spot Émilie frowning disapprovingly at her.

"The Ward really is gone,'' Tracy informed the Maeser as she stood up to stretch her legs.

Chaos vapor...'' Émilie began. Tracy nodded.

We need to leave,'' she said.

Émilie exhaled. ''Good thing we are at a portal right now then,'' she said.

Tracy blinked in mild surprise. ''You are going to abandon your luggage?'' She asked.

They are replaceable; my life is not. Come let us depart, Tracy.''

In but a minute both girls were gone and none of them any the wiser how... wise Émilie's decision had been to leave immediately.

Camilla pulled herself upright, trying hard to make sense of where she was. The answer to that came fairly easily, and quickly too, as she took in the expansive room she found herself in. The reason she was there came next, alongside a fuzzy memory of what had transpired the night before.

Camilla took her time getting to her feet and rolling her shoulders, trying to work through the soreness they had accumulated from their prolonged contact with the floor. It wasn't working. Sighing, the young girl trudged over to the bed, a feeling of dread over what may await her turning her stomach to mush. She looked the bed over, finding that it looked barely slept in, and - most importantly - there was no sign of blood.

Camilla breathed deep, relief surging through her. The lack of crimson was good. It meant that Ellen had been kidnapped, and was still alive. It was not the most desirable of circumstances but at the very least she was alive so it had to count for something. Camilla ran her hand through her hair, trying to think. She had to find Ellen, and she needed help to do so. The city lord was the one best equipped to help and was naturally the one she should go to since he would be most ready to help. The issue with those both brave enough and willing to kidnap a Maeser was that they laid elaborate plans, and were most certainly prepared for the worst.

Whoever had Ellen in his clutches probably had a very good grasp of the forces Lord Kimmel could deploy to do his bidding, and probably also knew ways to get around it. That was... worrying. The city lords of Sealarios were the type of people whose prowess and resources were only hinted at and never qualitatively explained. For somebody to be confident enough to withstand one's attention meant that she and Ellen were in way over their heads, being so far away from Xerdes, their area of maximum influence.

Camilla began to pace. The most likely culprits were the Aristocrat Council. They wanted every Maeser gone and were responsible for the death of the original Maeser of Siadro, so there was already a precedent pointing at their culpability.

Camilla paused to take in the bed once more and a skeptical look crossed her features. If it was indeed the Council, they would have slain Ellen where she lay; there was no reason to risk a hostage situation. Unless, of course, they had another aim. Something that would push their objective further than having another Maeser dead...

No... no, she was overthinking it, surely.

Camilla ran her tongue over her lower lip. Sealarios was supposed to be safe godsdamnit! There was no way the five Maesers of the realm would step foot upon the island without a squadron of knights to accompany them if it wasn't. So what was this nonsense then? The Aristocrat Council shouldn't be able to operate within Sealarios at all. Infact, Camilla refused to believe that they had fingers in the city. They couldn't - they shouldn't.

Gods.

Camilla ran her hands over her face. Ellen was in danger, and here she was getting lost in her thoughts. She had to get dressed and get moving.

It took the anxious girl but a minute to be rid of her nightgown and get attired in a simple peach-colored gown. Another minute saw her running across the yard, cutting directly through miniature gardens and flower beds in a mad dash towards the main house. The servants who stared at her in surprise as she ran Camilla ignored, single-minded focus driving her onward until she arrived at the steps of the main house a shivering, panting mess. A maid met her at the door - one of the high maids, though she wasn't sure - and asked the reason for the hurry.

Camilla brushed away strands of hair that had stuck to her forehead, trying to bring her breathing under control even as she explained to the servant that she needed to see Lord Kimmel over an urgent matter. She was let in and led to the study. She dismissed the maid at the door and turned to step in before she remembered, belatedly, that she had yet to announce herself and had dismissed the servant before she could do it as was proper.

Nothing to it, she thought and announced herself.

"Lady Camilla from Xerdes is here to see you, city lord.'' She waited for a while and when no answer came from beyond the door, announced herself once more, raising her voice a bit more this time. When there was no answer to her words, a funny feeling began working its way up Camilla's spine. The maid had been sure the city lord was in his study. Could she have been wrong?

Hesitantly, the girl tried the door. It was open. The funny tingles intensified. She turned the handle, pushed open the door, and walked in.

Camilla did not notice the rows of shelves that lined the wall from one end of the door to the other. She did not notice the books and scrolls strewn across the floor, most of them in flames. She did not notice how the curtains were drawn close to block out the light; she wasn't even sure when exactly she stepped deeper into the room, shutting the door behind her with a soft click. All Camilla had eyes for as she stepped into the room was the figure of Lord Kimmel, copious amounts of blood spilling from a hole in his neck as he sat upon a seat dyed red with blood and his eyes stared emptily at the ceiling, unseeing. Camilla also noticed the corpse of Hybna, Lord Kimmel's wife, sprawled on the ground in a pool of her blood near the door.

Camilla swallowed, leaned heavily upon the shut door behind her, and slid down to the floor. She worked her lungs, trying to breathe through the shock; to get herself together.

She was smart. She... She knew what to do.

Don't think of it. Compartmentalize. Ellen has been dealing with things like this since she was eight. What did she say again?

Camilla held her breath, not trusting herself not to give in and scream if she thought she had the air to spare.

Right. Don't think. Don't look either.

She shut her eyes.

Just view it as statistics. News from remote locations in a badly written letter. Do not think of it. It's just news. Fact.

Camilla let out a shuddering breath, thankful for the distraction exhaling provided.

Prioritize, Camilla. Think.

She bit her lip. The servants within the house didn't seem aware of the murder and by all rights, she should immediately make sure they did. She was meant to scream - alert someone; do something to draw attention to what had transpired.

But if I do so, there would also be appropriate levels of chaos. Everyone possible would be trying to find the murderer or something equally unuseful to my situation. Finding Ellen would not only become secondary but would also get even more difficult within all the chaos.

On the other hand, if she drew no attention to the murder, finding Ellen would remain a primary objective; plus, with a bit of lying and begging, she could get the other Maesers and their aides to pitch in and help. Well, most of them at the very least. She was almost a hundred percent sure that she could get Prince Alver to help. Prince Gabriel would probably help too, though he didn't strike her as one to do so willingly. Prince Voscov on the other hand she could see not giving a damn.

Prince Raoul would probably help too. And he should be a capable fighter too. Wouldn't have climbed all the way to third place in the last Tournament if he wasn't. Maeser Émilie... I am not so sure.

Whatever repercussions her decision would have after they found Ellen and the murder comes to light, she would handle it when it comes. More specifically, she would hide behind Ellen and let her face everything and pull them through. Ellen was crazy enough to be trusted to pull it off.

Decision made and future steps ascertained, Camilla pulled herself to her feet and straightened her dress. She tried to smile. It came out broken.

Quietly the young girl exited the room and informed the first maid she could get her hands on that the city lord and his wife desired that no one disturb them unless they were called for. After all, it wouldn't do for a servant to bring the news of the murder to light before Ellen was found.

Camilla fixed her attire, making sure to look as distressed and disheveled as possible before stepping past the front door. She was counting on her appearance more than anything else to pull Alver to her cause. Studor was majorly a militaristic state and valued little else above honor and observance of the codes of chivalry. A kidnapped Maeser he barely knew may not be enough to get him scouring the streets of Sealarios personally, but a lady in enough distress not to care about her attire certainly should.

"What?" Camilla blurted out, staring at the dark-haired boy sitting on the gray rock in the middle of the courtyard in surprise.

Everything had been going as expected. It had taken the distraught girl a few minutes to round up Alver and Raoul and to find out that Gabriel and his aide had left the manor before she could get to them. She had quickly come over to Voscov's quarters to request his aid. When Camilla had decided to come over though, she had held no hope for the indifferent prince to accept; she had instead been angling for his aide, Lynica. The Arskavis were known to be a family of well-trained assassins, and Camilla had reasoned that if anyone knew the general area or the best way to go about finding her friend, it would be she. Set a thief to catch a thief and all that.

Voscov rose leisurely from his seated position. "There is nothing better for me to do," he explained to her. "Since you could not find Lord Kimmel anywhere, I may as well perform a good deed and help out. Princess Ellen is a peer of mine after all.''

Camilla had not been expecting that answer, and with nary a change in the prince's expression as he said the words, she was almost beginning to think that he was mocking her somehow. But there was nothing to mock... was there?

Camilla shook off the thought and thanked the Maeser for agreeing to help out. An ally was an ally no matter how much she thought she was being made fun of.

It took a biting, snarling, frankly disturbing person with speckled gray skin crashing onto the streets from within an alley with a terrified, screaming girl pinned beneath the rabid individual with only an arm between her face and a set of teeth that looked deceptively normal for Gabriel and Arint to figure out that one thing or the other was seriously wrong.

What in Nether's name is that?'' Arint muttered, squinting down at the rabid creature being yanked off the unfortunate girl by nearby pedestrians through the window. He was seated on the top floor of a tea house, Gabriel across from him.

Gabriel glanced out the window and frowned in concern. "That is a razatche,'' Gabriel informed Arint. His aide gave him a dry stare.

"A razatche. On Sealarios of all places," the redhead drawled in a tone as dry as he could manage.

"I'm serious Arint,'' Gabriel said, still frowning. "That," he pointed at the creature. "Is what killed her.''

"By 'her' do you mean..."

And then people began to run. Screams rent the air, accompanied by the frenzied footfalls of fleeing individuals as what seemed like everybody on the street took to their heels, rushing about every which way. Arint pushed his head out the window, a frown mirroring Gabriel's etched upon his face.

"What is it?" Gabriel asked, a feeling of something akin to fear settling in his stomach.

"I don't know. I can't see past the crowd," Arint replied.

"Let Vit take a look," said Gabriel. Arint pulled back from the window as Vit materialized, pulling out from Gabriel's body like a ghost and jumping up and going through the roof with little delay.

You are going to hate this, was the first thing Vit told Gabriel through their link once he came to a stop high up in the air. By the way, get moving. Now. The Grand Ward is gone and the chaos vapor is nowhere to be seen. The island is crawling with razatches and more than a couple are coming our way.

Gabriel was already up and moving even before Vit completed his sentence. Arint called after him as he rose, and Gabriel paused to think. It was inevitable that the first thing to pass through Gabriel's head - after a fleeting worry for his safety - was Valerina. He had spent the better part of the night worrying about the girl and conjuring up about six dozen different scenarios where her essence bled out and she ended up dying because she was much more invested in winning and other such nonsense than trying to staunch the injury. He knew that Valerina wasn't quite that reckless but she was - literally - his lifeline. All those years ago, Mother had warned him not to use a living anchor for the ritual as it was possible that if they died, his avatar would vanish. Now if that happened, there was every need to look forward to being a corpse the next year and since he very much still enjoyed waking up every morn, his paranoia was perfectly justified.

"We need to return quickly to the city lord's manor, Arint. I'll explain on the way,'' Gabriel told Arint even as he mentally asked Vit to quickly head to the Arena and try to keep any razatche that looked vaguely like Valerina alive.

Arint didn't dally and rose immediately to follow Gabriel out of the private room where they sat. The duo had only made it to the stairs when a six-foot solid mass of rabid dull grey barreled its way through the entrance. A patron of the establishment had the presence of mind to send a rough blast of air in its direction before it got too far in, tossing it against the wall, while another pushed out a speeding missile of roughly shaped earth at the creature, breaking the thin wall of the tea house and tossing the razatche onto the street.

That... did little though as the creature bounced back with a snarl barely seconds later. Razatches were a hardy sort.

Found her, Vit's voice rang within Gabriel's head. Seems like she was lucky to be within a tournament ward when the Grand Ward failed so not a razatche either.

Gabriel let out a relieved sigh as he and Arint scampered out of the tea house. It was good how things turned out; now all he needed to do was to go and get her then head home.

"So, any idea what's going on?" Arint grunted as they set out at a fast sprint down the streets. Gabriel spared him a glance and withheld a groan. He had almost forgotten about Arint.

Vit, where are you? Gabriel sent down their link.

Near, why? Vit replied.

Knock Arint out once you spot us, Gabriel said before turning his attention to tell Arint what was happening.

"What!?" Arint exclaimed, right before Vit dropped from the sky and knocked him out with a slap to the back of his head. Gabriel caught Arint as he fell and slung him onto his back as quickly as he could.

"Let's go. To the city lord's manor," Gabriel told Vit. That was the only portal he knew its location in the whole of Sealarios and since he was certain that more than two-thirds of the island's population were now razatches, it was imperative that he got Arint home as soon as possible.

It wasn't as though he didn't want to get the hell out of dodge immediately too but, well, Valerina happened. He was willing to try and get her himself - even though he had no idea how just yet - but Arint shouldn't do so too. It was also because the redhead had zero knowledge of the nonsensical stupidity that linked him, Vit, and the reckless girl and had no stakes in it. Gabriel... didn't want to pull Arint into the things his actions six years ago had wrought. And so he continued onward as quickly as he could, trading Arint with Vit once he got tired.

And so it happened that not long after he stepped foot into the city lord's manor, he sent Vit to take Arint to the portal after he saw a group of guards being led by Maeser Alver and lady Camilla and the gears of his mind began to turn as a plan made itself known.