un: starburst, toward the end of this arc.

[valeas]

( Emilia di Carlo has seen better days, by the look of her. Her battle leathers are torn, soot and cuts still on her face — but she doesn't give in to the exhaustion just yet, nor the bile in her throat. First, she addresses the people of Alem, dignified and resolute. )

Prince Haiva sacrificed himself and leaves his sister, the young Cle-Florens, spared.

I was witness.

( A pause, then, as she allows that to sink in. )

Hell is sealed.

You fought with valor so others might live. I'm glad to have fought beside you, and will remember your fallen just the same.

If you've yet to evacuate, the time is now. Hassir awaits.

Comments

[valeas]

( Emilia's nod is imperceptible.

She waits until they're far away enough from the dwindling crowd to lean slightly against Wrathion. She's never drawn quite so much power. From delaying the opening of Hell to venturing into the depths below to... now.

It feels odd to look toward this strange face, knowing that Wrathion lurks beneath. The knowledge of it is a comfort, though, and her own voice is whisper-light, meant to be audible only to him. )

Was that all right?

( She wanted to wield as much of the truth as she could to sell the lie. )

[blackscales]

[ He follows a polite distance behind Emilia, moves forward to offer her an arm once she seems to falter. He doesn't mind, Emilia is someone he trusts. They understand each other.

His voice drops just as quiet: ]

You did well. I'm sure some will have questions among our own, but that can be handled.

[ Haiva living would not, in his opinion, have helped matters. The hallway they are turning through eventually quietens to emptiness, and Wrathion spares a glance around before letting glittering, gold-flecked smoke swallow his form. It dissipates, and his usual visage regards her thoughtfully. ]

What do you require?

[ Rest? Water? Food? Just a moment of privacy? To pack up quickly and leave? He can offer assistance in any of the above, even if it's just standing outside a room to turn away people. ]

[valeas]

( Emilia considers the question now that she can actually stop in her tracks and do so. Some deep, deep rest will go a long way, but that's not actionable at the moment, so she focuses on what is, what will take her to the finish line. )

A bite of something to eat, anything at all.

( Sweetness does the trick well, but this is hardly the time to be fastidious.

Magic burns a constant stream of energy that needs replenishment, so long as Emilia possesses her mortal heart. She wonders if this glamour of his also took a lot out of him, and endeavors to be quick so that he may also recover if so. )

Water will do if that's all that's left.

[blackscales]

I do have something

[ He has some jerky, and some water. Better than nothing. Wrathion pulls out a small, folded piece of cloth and offers it to her. The meat is dry, salty, chewy, but not unpleasant. In the grand scheme of things, it's better than nothing in a collapsing fortress with hell beneath it and a frozen forest surrounding. He waits until she's taken it, digs to unhook his small flask of water to offer her as well. ]

It's not much, but it should keep you on your feet a little longer. Enough to get you to Hassir, at least. Will you be leaving soon?

[valeas]

( There is no grace in the way she devours the jerky. She scarfs it down as though she hasn't eaten in an age, and it does feel that way. Emilia closes her eyes, allowing the meat to settle in her stomach. It still gnaws with hunger, but he's right.

It's something. )

Soon. Wrath wanted to give the Room of Seals one last look.

( Just in case. She would not leave him, and it will help her, too. To reconfirm. )

It's all... quiet. ( Almost eerily so. )

[blackscales]

Quiet, but not peaceful.

[ This place, even despite the sealing of hell, gives him a feeling of unease. It is better to leave, although leaving itself may not prove to be peaceful either.

Deimar still has to keep a grasp on his leadership. They still have to make it to Hassir, and hope the beacons work. That they can then leave Hassir without incident, those who remain, and journey onward. ]

[valeas]

( Her voice is quiet when she does speak. )

No, never that.

( Alem is in ruins, and she has little hope for its beacon. They'll keep traveling east, keep stumbling on mirrors and dark water. It seems endless, but she pushes that thought aside, so unhelpful that it is. There's only the next step forward.

She looks to Wrathion, this grim understanding and unease shared. Feels a bit stronger than she did only a moment ago, her stomach no longer so empty. With a lone nod, she moves to follow him, to place further distance between herself and this forsaken place. )