Backyard Blues

There's snow on the ground outside, and it blows across the white patches in people's yards in gusts. Adding to the thick gathering of what's already there. The streets are somewhat clear, having been dug out by shovel. Yet all of this is faintly far away in the home of a certain pair of sorcerers. Inside after all, there is a warm fire, and warm companionship to be had. It's the sort of day that encourages lazy rising from the bed, and who's really going to argue that fact?

But there is one soul in the household who does argue that fact. One whose opinion matters most of all, as he is the reason why the two sorcerers met over a year ago. He raps at the bedroom door with his cream-white beak and plainly announces in his boyish voice, "Lanaaaaa! Teeeeeel! It's time for breakfast!"

There's the sound of grumbling from within the bedroom, but the sound of footsteps follows after--and the door opens, Cor'lana rubbing her eyes from the other side. She's dressed in a long wool nightgown, the sleeves flowing to her wrists and the hem all the way at her ankles. The neckline is low enough to expose the curuchuil, but that's the only concession for 'fashion'. "Okay, okay, but first you have to give me Pothy snuggles," she replies.

That gets Pothy's tail wagging already, and he takes flight onto Cor'lana's shoulder, nuzzling into her dark hair (which is a bit of a frizzy mess, but clearly Pothy doesn't mind).

Following Lana is the man of the house, Telamon, and he's still a little bleary himself. Blinking, dressed in a long, dull green dressing robe of well loved wool, with fuzzy bear slippers on his feet, he does -not- look all that imposing or intimidating. He opens his mouth in a huge yawn, before peering. "Good morning, Pothy. I hope you slept well." He scratches his chin, shaking his head slowly to try and wake himself up. "Coffee. Or tea. That's what we need."

While Lana is cuddling Pothy, Tel shuffles over to the kitchen, still yawning a bit as he reaches for the pantry door.

It's not something that screams out its presence, but as Telamon enters the kitchen, it is noticeable. That the view outside is.... Blue? Their yard is blue. Not white, not green (which would be odd enough given the time of year), but decidedly blue.

Cor'lana pads a little back into the room to retrieve her own matching pair of fuzzy bear slippers with Pothy in tow, before she follows him into the kitchen. "Either one would be fine by me," Cor'lana replies, "although you know..."

Her words trail off as she looks out at the world that is now blue. Cor'lana stares at it for a moment. Then she rubs her eyes and... No, still blue. "Tel, you're seeing what I'm seeing, right?"

Pothy stares out at the yard, too. "I'll have to go out and taste it later," he says. "I know they say never to eat the yellow snow, but they never said anything about blue snow."

Telamon peers up from where he's just retrieved the tea. "See what..." His eyes follow Lana's gaze out the window and... uh. "That's... blue." he says. "Hm." He shuts his eyes, then opens them again. Still blue. "Shit. Pothy, do me a favor, look outside the front window and tell me if it's blue out there as well."

Tel sets the box of tea down on the counter, his eyes sweeping the backyard, looking for movement. His starry gaze is clearly alert now.

It's hard to tell from inside, but closer observation does tell you that its not actually blue snow. Instead it's a riot of tiny, itsy-bitsy blue flowers that have sprung up all over the back yard. They're everywhere. Innocently growing in the snow as no flower rightly should.

"No, Pothy, look closer," Cor'lana says, peering out the window. "That's not snow. Those are... flowers." Her voice is full of wonder as she beholds them. "Is this the work of the pixies?--No, it couldn't be. This just happened overnight, and the pixies would have greeted us by now if this was their work..."

"Oh, well, less exciting," Pothy comments, but he nods. "I'll go check out the front yard." He takes flight from Cor'lana's shoulder.

In the meantime, Cor'lana just turns to Telamon. "I'm... Trying to think. Flowers have meanings among Grandfather's people, but I only know so many off the top of my head. Those look like forget-me-nots--"

"No flowers in the front yard!" Pothy calls out, and he returns to Cor'lana's shoulder.

Telamon furrows his brow. "Yeah. And let's be honest, I'm not sure the pixies would try something like this in winter." He regards the view through the window, before stepping to the back door and opening it -- but not stepping outside yet.

"To be honest, at first I thought they were little blue roses, but that's still odd," he continues. Tel tilts his head, thoughtfully, before tracing a brief pattern and murmuring a word, before staring out at the backyard again.

The flower seem... utterly ordinary in nature. They look remarkably like the flowers that Cor'lana mentioned, being slightly smaller and more tightly wound together. Which means that they are not forget-me-nots, but whatever flowers they are is not immediately apparent.

Cor'lana frowns as she looks at the flowers more. "No, they're not even forget-me-nots," she adds. "Maybe..."

She stares at the little blue flowers for a moment longer and sighs. "Well. It's a message. Maybe even a greeting. Since there's none of them in the front, we might as well go see what's going on in our backyard. And... if it's what I'm thinking, I'd better go change. And if it's not, then I'll just look like a fool in my own backyard, which is a happy thought."

It takes a few minutes. Cor'lana leaves and reemerges from the bedroom wearing the immaculate dress that she's worn previously to greet the Queen of Air and Darkness and the Wee Queen. The low neckline would ordinarily be the sort of thing you don't want to wear out in the cold, but she doesn't seem particularly bothered by that aspect. "I can go out alone," she informs Telamon, "but I imagine you'll want to be by my side."

A warm smile curls on her lips. "After all, you are my 'consort', starborn king." <Sylvan>

"It does seem a tad... sideways for something from the lower planes," Telamon admits with a grin. "I hope it's not serious, though. Life has been throwing enough sling stones our way that I'd like a little time to enjoy the novelty of being a husband." He grins back at Lana.

At her suggestion, he nods, shutting the door for the moment. "Let's both do that. We're -one-, Lana. Husband and wife. I wouldn't ask you to walk into anything alone." Swiftly, he changes as well, donning a ruffled white silk blouse, dark trousers, his polished boots with the silver buckles, and the sleeveless over-cloak. Setting his circlet on his brow, he offers Lana a smile in turn.

"Let us see what our guest might wish to discuss, queen of my heart." he says in Sylvan, taking Cor'lana's hand and walking with her outside.

As you step into the flowers you hear the sound of buzzing. Almost like bees. Hiding amongst the flowers are a trio of Pixies. Familiar in their kind and type wearing blue and outfits that have them blending in with the flowers so well that they might well have been invisible a moment before. They hover just above the flowers, and seem to be waiting.

It isn't clear what they are waiting for until a beautiful woman with green eyes enters the yard. She might have been just another passing person if not for the entry into the back yard. Her clothes too are in shades of blue, a long dress and a dark blue cloak hiding much of her figure. Even the tips of her black hair is dyed blue. Her skin is a chestnut color, and she looks at the pixies for a moment before looking up again.

Cor'lana's violet eyes flutter, and... she wilts against Telamon, going from an upright person standing on her own two feet to unconscious in a matter of seconds. Pothy follows suit, too, the bird's body going limp.

It appears Telamon won't have the aid of his feytouched bride for the moment, nor her familiar.

Telamon staggers a moment, but instead of falling, he just... stops his respiration. The fogginess fades, just in time for Lana and Pothy to collapse. "Lana!" he shouts in surprise, catching her, and pulling her back to the doorstep.

His starry eyes fix on the green eyed woman, and his lips curl back in a snarl. "Who are you, and what are you doing in my backyard?"

"Oh my!" The woman says softly, looking shocked at Telamon. She seems... shy? "I did not expect you awake for this part... I..." She looks at the pixies as if for help. The three pop up and land around her neatly.

"I'm Blueshade!" Offers one, and the other two introduce themselves as 'Fenweather' and 'Hollyhill'.

The woman offers her name last. "Aoichie. I mean.... I am Aoichie."

There's the sound of a croak in the distance. Just a small one, but then it gets louder and louder, more urgent. A violet-eyed bird swoops down from the sky and places himself between Aoichie and Telamon.

But before his talons touch the ground, his form shifts and changes into that of Alud'rigan, the Feathered One, his pale and gray face twisted into a grim and quiet sort of fury, the violet eyes boring a hole through the woman. His taloned hands twitch and flex, like he's already picturing how he's going to dispatch her if she says the wrong thing altogether--and it very well might be that any word out of her mouth might be the wrong one. "You have erred greatly," he intones, his deep voice tolling like a bell. "These children do not welcome visitors from the Courts. They are under my watchful eye. You have only a few moments to speak your intentions aloud before I see you out."

Telamon's angry expression lessens just a touch at the woman's expression, and her entourage. "There's a perfectly good front door," he points out. "You could have just knocked." He slowly rises to his feet, his gaze full of stars. "I am called Telamon Lupecyll-Atlon, she-who-is-called Aoichie. Why have--" And then Grandfather lands between them.

Tel's expression twitches in wry amusement somewhat, before he continues, "As I was saying, why have you come here, and bewitched my bride into slumber? If nothing else, it's -rude-."

The woman shrinks back from Alud'rigan, but one of the pixies (Blueshade) pipes up bravely. "Pothy was a member of the courts! One might think he'd welcome visitors! Besides, Aoichie wanted to meet him. After all. She's the cousin of someone very close to him." The pixie grins and Aoichie seems to take some heart.

"It is my nature." She offers to Telamon. "If you know anything about our kind, then you know we can not help our natures."

"Then you would do well to remember that this is not /your/ domain to do as you see fit," Alud'rigan growls lightly. He takes one step forward, those massive talon-hands of his swinging with the motion. They look quite sharp, and he looks like he is all too ready to use them. "You come here and impose on my child and her consort on the same day that I receive a bluebell on my doorstep, and it is widely known I have no great love of unannounced visitors."

His hands flex again. His violet eyes glow just a bit brighter. "Begone or I will send you all back myself," he states again. "I do not care from where you came or who you serve. No one will trouble my step and no one will trouble my children."

Telamon clears his throat. "Grandfather..." he says pointedly. "With all due respect, you're also in my backyard too. Please stay your hand for the moment." He fixes Aoichie with a gimlet stare, as well as the trio of pixies. "You say you are a cousin of someone he grew close to during his sojourn in the Courts. If you wanted to visit, why put -him- to sleep too?" He points a thumb at Pothy, who is snoring on top of Lana peacefully.

The starborn sorcerer steps around Grandfather to stand next to him. "This seems a very peculiar way to request a visit." His eyes move to the pixies. "It might be better if you told us everything, you know."

In the manner of some fae, Aiochie ignores that which she doesn't like, and focuses on what she does. Namely she bravely looks at Alud'rigan and holds her hand out toward him. "If you give me the bluebell, I can tell you who gave it to you. Perhaps then you will allow me to visit?" She sounds mildly hopeful, embarrassment rising to her features at Telamon's words. "It is my _nature_. I bring the flowers with me where I go. I can no more stop them from growing than can a bird be without feathers."

GAME: Telamon rolls detectbs: aliased to sense motive+3: (3)+20+3: 26
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+18: (19)+18: 37

The violet eyes on the Feathered One's face bore holes through Aoichie, studying her for a long moment. Finally, there's a flicker of /something/ in his eyes beyond the fury that threatens, at any moment, to become louder than anything. "You are not connected with the bluebell," he says. "I will permit you to speak with my children, but I will supervise this visit, and I will end the visit and send you on your way with no warning at any time at my discretion. The children--" Here, he gestures to Telamon, Cor'lana, and even Pothy, indicating the three of them specifically with his taloned fingers. "--may also end the visit at any time. In return, you will inspect this flower and tell me all that you know of who could have sent it and why."

He looks briefly over his shoulder at Telamon. "Does that sound agreeable to you, Telamon?" he asks. "I will not enter this notion until you consent."

"Can Lana and Pothy be awakened from this slumber?" Telamon asks bluntly. "Because obviously, there's not much 'visit' going on until they are roused." He nods slowly to Grandfather at his proposition. "I appreciate your guidance -- and protection -- in this matter, Grandfather. I am not averse to dealing with fey -- only that they come without harboring ill intent."

Aoichie looks at Blueshade and he shrugs. After a moment she nods. "This is agreeable to us. We mean you no harm." Though harm and mischief were not always the same things when one was dealing with the fae, and sometimes harm happened and what then? Well, it was all in good fun right? "As for the slumber... You or I can wake them. If you love them that is. A kiss is all that is required."

"Then all that remains is the venue of the visit," Alud'rigan says. His tone is still tense with that quiet anger underneath, but it's less compared to the moment before. "We remain out here or inside. I will leave that decision up to Telamon."

And then there's the slightest hint of a smile on his lips. "As well as the awakening. He is surely more than capable of it."

Telamon just snorts at that, before going back over to Cor'lana. "Show her the bluebell, Grandfather. We have a mystery to unravel." He leans over her, and very gently kisses her, before whispering, "Wake up, Cor'lana. There's work to be done."

Once that's done, he lifts Pothy in his hands, and presses a kiss to the familiar's head. "Wake up, little brother. Can't be a slugabed all day."

And then he waits for them to rouse.

The fae woman and her pixie companions wait patiently and quietly with only a small request from her. "Oh, please out here! I would feel so uncomfortable inside without my flowers." She clasps her hands and looks at Telamon hopefully.

Cor'lana's violet eyes flicker open, sleepily, with Telamon's kiss. "Mmmn, I had the oddest..."

She gains her faculties, slowly, as she says that, and then looks at the flowered snow. The trio of pixies. The fey woman. And her eyes widen in particular as she sees Grandfather. "No, not a dream," she says, quietly.

Pothy, meanwhile, opens up his blue eyes, and he looks at the pixies first. "Oh no, not more of them," he groans quietly at first in his boyish voice. But then he looks at the fey lady that the pixies come with. He says nothing, but he does quirk his head from side-to-side in that classic display of corvid curiosity.

"Cor'lana, Pothy," Grandfather says, "we are met by Aoichie and her pixie companions. I have negotiated a visit that you, Telamon, Pothy, and I may end at any time."

He turns over his taloned hand and reveals a bluebell flower. "And as per the conditions, the flower," he intones, handing it over to her.

Telamon helps Lana to her feet, before passing Pothy back to her to sit on her shoulder. "It seems the lady Aoichie tends to put mortals to sleep... except it didn't work on me." His lips quirk slightly. "She was a bit surprised."

He squares his shoulders, turning to face Aoichie now. "Alright. I am less irked than I was before." Tel even offers a sympathetic smile. "I can appreciate the desire for flowers. A shame it's not spring or summer; I do my own gardening here, with a little help." He flicks his eyes to Pothy. "Pothy, Aoichie is a cousin of a friend of yours?"

Aiochie steps forward, and delicately but quickly picks up the flower before stepping back again just as quickly. She seems intimidated by Cor'lana's grandfather, but generally shy in nature even without that consideration. With his insistence, she closes her eyes, hand wrapped around the small bloom. "I see them. It's... Legus'elain. There is someone with them, but I can not make them out clearly. This person means you harm, but not directly. They fear you." She shudders and lets her hand fall to her side.

Her eyes look at Alud'rigan and she looks quickly away. "I do not like to bear bad news, but I sense something dark looming in the future for you and yours." She turns her eyes to Pothy, and there's something... less than welcome in her green gaze. "Greetings ever-child. Raven of the Court of the Fae. I am Aoichie, the Sleeping Flower. Cousin of one I can not name."

Alud'rigan's violet eyes are consumed again by the quiet fury, but it's clear from how he averts his gaze that it's not about to be inflicted onto Aoichie. "I should have suspected it would be that damnable rook," he murmurs. "But... an accomplice. I should have known that he would find an underhanded method around the oath by recruiting someone else to bring me into his little game."

Cor'lana's eyes widen in surprise from the revelation about the Corpse-Eater. But her attention turns to Pothy as he's addressed. The blue-eyed white raven looks at Aoichie and... while it's difficult to glean emotions from a bird face, Pothy has always been a more emotive bird than most. There's a haunted look in his eyes.

"Greetings, Sleeping Flower," Pothy says, and he bows, spreading his wings out to replicate the movement of arms that he often did with his bows in the Court as a humanoid boy. "Do you bring a message from Her Majesty?" Straight to the point, it seems.

Telamon lets out a quiet hiss. "So, the Corpse-Eater seeks to bring a new piece onto the playing field? I admit I... don't find it surprising. He seems uninclined for direct confrontations, even when he holds the upper hand."

Tel's arm goes around Cor'lana, as he regards the fey maiden. Then his eyes flick to Pothy, seeing the twitch in the bird's feathers. Then his gaze moves back to Aoichie. Letting her speak, as it were.

"Nothing directly." The fae woman says, but the words are not particularly kind. "But one of the Ravens came to wish me condolences on the anniversary of her death. I do not wonder why that might be, and it stirred in me a desire to meet the one she loved so much."

The pixies chitter and buzz, clearly interested in the conversation and Aoichie's voice turns very bitter. "If not for the lack of children in the fae court, she might yet live." There's tears on her cheeks, but not in her voice.

Pothy's head... hangs a little. Cor'lana presses her lips together as the white raven briefly finds refuge in her hair, although it's not for the happy good-morning snuggles and more to find the strength to respond. "I'm here, little brother," Cor'lana whispers to him. "You've stood by me when I was in despair, so I'm here now for you."

Pothy nods. It's a little, tiny motion. But he emerges from Cor'lana's hair and flaps out to land on Alud'rigan's shoulder, settling into the black raven feathers that make up the first part of the estranged fey lord's mantle. He gets a closer look at Aoichie and vice versa. "I look different here compared to my time in the Court, Sleeping Flower, so I must apologize that you do not know me as she knew me in that regard," Pothy responds. "But I think about her every day, as I'm sure you do, too."

Telamon exhales, picking up enough of the tale -- and the subtext -- to catch on. His arm tightens around Lana a little, before he responds. "I see," he says calmly. "I offer my condolences as well, Sleeping Flower. I beg pardon for my initial anger, for I am ever-mindful for my bride."

There's a surprising warmth there, as he gestures with his other arm. "In truth, any friend of Pothy's is a friend of mine. Perhaps an unwise view, but," his smile is wry, "I do so like to joke that I am not wise."

"I think of her now more than I have in years." Sleeping Flower admits. She looks at Pothy with wide eyes. "I knew you were a raven, but..." She shrugs delicately. "Our people wear many forms."

She flicks her eyes toward Telamon. "I understand. The lost of a loved one is a wound that does not heal. I would not name myself friend, but I am less capricious than my kin."

That's... saying something considering her introduction. "I came as warning, and carrying a warning." Here her eyes flicker toward Cor'lana's grandfather. "My kin are not pleased that you live ever-child. They would see you punished for what you dared; for angering one enough to see my cousin dead. As for the rest, a shadow looms over you and yours. A shadow which will not be abated by mere daylight. Be wary."

Pothy stares for a long moment at Aoichie. It seems he can't register what's been said, and his feathers all puff up. "What?" he asks, in the voice of a child who has been accused of something he certainly didn't do--breaking, almost a squeak. "I didn't... I didn't /do/ anything. All I did was love her from afar. That was all I did. That was all I did!"

He whimpers, the sound of tears being shed coming from him. Ravens can't cry, but he certainly still feels the sorrow. Cor'lana frowns deeply, and she leaves Telamon's side to stand by Grandfather, stroking Pothy's feathers quietly.

Telamon just stares at Aoichie, then snorts. "Ah. I suspect you speak of Kol Demontry. Yes, the shadow that does not abate in daylight, that's a poetic way to speak of him." He makes a cutting gesture. "Regardless, though, Pothy is not responsible for the actions of those who do not act at his bidding. If they cannot control themselves, then the sin is on them."

His star-shot eyes grow hard. "If one wishes to discuss the matter more formally, I am here. I might even let them plead their case."

The woman shrugs delicately at Telamon's words. "I know not the exact source of shadow. Only what I was told to tell." She turns her gaze on Pothy, and regretfully shakes her head. "You know better than most ever-child. That love is a commodity that fae are not... usually allowed. Particularly not those of the court. Your love is thought by all to be the reason for her abrupt marriage. For she loved you in return."

There's a brief silence. "Again, I did not come to cause harm. Or to make you sad, only to warn you of the danger that comes. For I too loved her... Lost her." She lets her tears fall freely and does not try to hide them nor wipe them away.

The white raven pauses for a long moment, still whimpering, even as Cor'lana tries to soothe him by petting his downy feathers. "She never told me," he finally croaks. "I..."

Cor'lana looks at Pothy for a long moment, followed by a glance up at Alud'rigan. The two pairs of violet eyes look at each other, communicating something that didn't need to be said aloud. After all, they are bound by blood in more than one way. "The warning is heard," Cor'lana says. To thank the woman would recognize an oath, and she knows better. "I think that, if there is nothing else you wish to deliver, this visit should be over. I want to comfort my little brother."

The fey man nods soberly and silently. But there is calculation in those violet eyes. "Unless Telamon has anything he wishes to ask of our visitors," Alud'rigan replies, "then I have nothing else to say."

Telamon sighs. "Only to consider the greater peril that might ensue, if the minions of the Nightmare and the daylight shadow enjoy further successes, Sleeping Flower." He tilts his head. "Consider, weigh your options... but think on it. I will make no demands, for that is not my place."

He inclines his head to Grandfather, and enfolds his bride and Pothy both in his arms. A protective embrace, especially for the familiar.

Aoichie gathers her little friends and nods to everyone politely. Then she takes her leave. There's nothing further for her to say really. Once she is gone, the flowers begin to wilt and fade. They'll be around a little while longer, but will not last in the snow and cold.

Grandfather huffs a little as the fey woman leaves. The blue flowers beginning to wilt in the absence of their life-giver stick out like sore thumbs in the ground. "A lesson well learned, my children, that love can be the most rebellious and radical thing there is in the Court," he says. "I... I would apologize, but that would imply I regret anything that led to Cor'lana existing. We would all be poorer for it."

Pothy nuzzles into Telamon as the starborn sorcerer holds both him and Cor'lana. But it's Cor'lana who speaks up next, her violet eyes watching the path that Aoichie took out of the backyard. There's a quiet strength that's there in her eyes, much in the same way that her ancestor's eyes were filled with a quiet fury moments ago. "No, no apologies," Cor'lana says firmly. "I've told Telamon before. Gone are the days where I wish I was never born--all because of love. I want to live and I want to thrive because I have love from so many. Pothy, never be ashamed of the fact you loved that girl. Even if it brings more people to our doorstep, /let them come./ Even if it's what made the Corpse-Eater take sight of us, let him come. Let the wolves come out and let the waking shadow come out."

She looks at Telamon, Pothy, and Grandfather with a defiant smile. "We were all meant to exist for reasons that only the gods likely know, but I know that we stand a better chance against all of them together."

"Absolutely," Telamon responds. "Pothy, you are -not- responsible. If someone wants to make an issue of it I will be -more- than happy to give them the attention they deserve." He reaches out to stroke Pothy's feathers. "Remember, Pothy, you made Lana and I possible that first day, when you landed in front of me. And for that I will always be grateful."

He heaves a sigh. "A shame we can't lure these various and sundry bastards into each other's paths so they might kill each other. It would simplify things immensely." He pauses, his expression thoughtful. "Though... hm. I need to consider something. An idea, perhaps."

"I know," Pothy murmurs as he continues to nuzzle into Telamon. His white feathers and beak match Telamon's hair a bit, which is maybe why he's so enthusiastic to get lost into his hair for the moment. "I know." It's all he has to say.

"It would be nice--and may not be wholly out of the question," Cor'lana responds. "But we need more information, and to be even more careful about how we get that information. We should find Seldan and speak with him about Kol--I have spoken to him in the past about it, but that was when Kol as a done and shut deal."

However, her thoughts are interrupted by Grandfather. "May we speak about this inside?" he asks, his voice gentler and more of its usual Grandfather-ly self now that the woman has left. "I have no complaint about the cold, but I wish to make all three of you some tea and a nice meal."

Cor'lana nods firmly to that idea. Then she turns brightly to Pothy. "How about that? Grandfather's going to cook for us."

Pothy... emerges a little from Telamon's hair. "I'd like that," he says, quietly. Almost shyly. Aoichie's moniker is one he wears well, albeit as a child who has been forced to endure more than one ever should.

Telamon touches Pothy, gently, before letting him move back onto Lana's shoulder. At Grandfather's suggestion, Tel nods firmly. "I think that would be a good idea. Let's sit down, eat something, and take this apart."

As the group moves back inside, Tel continues, "I know Verna... blames herself, for Kol's return. But it bothers me that he could 'return' at all. And yes, I know, the Watcher himself has told me that just because something isn't real doesn't mean it can't hurt you. But... hm. Drawing something out of the Dreaming should not be so easy."

"I mean, I don't know," Cor'lana replies as she steps inside with Telamon. "/You/ stepped out of my wildest dreams."

That draws a very, /very/ smug grin out of Grandfather as he slips away to go into the kitchen and begin the process of cooking. That grin is mirrored on Cor'lana's face. Pothy takes flight from Cor'lana's shoulder and into the kitchen, presumably to help Grandfather with the food. "Jokes aside," Cor'lana says, "when you dream... There's dreams that you have that are so real that they /could/ be, right? And when you have something like one of the totems... Their magic could be powerful and make what's in the dream real."

She looks thoughtful. "Maybe that's the key to solving all of this. It doesn't necessarily have to exist yet--but if someone dreams hard enough, they could dream of something to defeat Kol. Something mightier than him, something more powerful than him, something that would banish him forever. Something to vanquish Zalgiman. We /could/ become the heroes of our wildest dreams. Literally."

Cor'lana smirks a little. "Forgive my poet's heart, but it'd be awfully nice if we could. But then again, I'm the follower of Vaire and you're the follower of Ni'essa, so tell me if I'm wrong or not."

"I heard something once. That we have to dream of things that aren't real, so that we can try to make them become real." Telamon shrugs lightly, with a crooked smile. "Maybe we need to pursue this. I'm not going to say it'll work... but I think it's an avenue worth chasing. First we'd need a totem, though." His expression sours at the last bit.

When Grandfather and Pothy step into the kitchen, Tel leads Lana over to the couch to sit down. "I'm still... angry... with myself, for how badly I bobbled things with the totem and Lieutenant Balderdan. I should've never agreed to let it out of my sight." He leans back, staring at the ceiling. "So you'll understand I'm not super-eager to go try to find another to hold onto, considering my record thus far."

Cor'lana smiles a little at Telamon, taking his hand as they sit down on the couch. "You had no way of knowing what would happen," she says. "It's a lesson well learned, however. Once we find another one of them, we have to keep it at all costs. And maybe not take it from Zalgiman's hands the same way I did, or he'll resort to underhanded tricks to get it back." She says this with a slight amount of bashfulness, since... she did trick him into giving it to her in the first place.

"Oh, I think I saw a new Crimson Pen book the other day, speaking of which," Grandfather speaks up from within the kitchen. "I almost picked it up until I recognized that was supposed to be you on the cover art."

Cor'lana... just sinks into the couch and stares at the ceiling, too. "Please tell me it's totally-not-me and totally-not-Zalgiman on the cover. ... Actually, please tell me it's not the story about Telamon and I that Lily-of-the-Valley wrote and threatened to send to the Crimson Pen. I actually don't know which one is worse--blatantly fictional material that nobody would believe if they knew me, or one of our garden pixies becoming a published smut writer."

She shakes her head and looks at Telamon. "On that note... Let's try and enjoy the rest of today, shall we?" she asks. "We're here. Pothy is here. Grandfather is here. That's worth celebrating in its own way."

Her violet eyes twinkle. "After all, a week and a day from today will be our one-year anniversary."

Telamon impulsively wraps his arms around Cor'lana for a moment. "Thanks. I... needed to hear that, love. I felt like I let everyone down, even though I was trying to do the right thing." He kisses her cheek, before smiling at her.

Then Grandfather says something about Crimson Pen novels and Lana, and his eyebrows shoot up. "Oh, -really-?" he says in an even tone. "Well... I might look into it. I know being an adventurer has some... unintended consequences, but I really hope it's at least -somewhat- tasteful."

Tel shakes his head. "Crimson Pen novels. Ye gods. Well, at least we do have these things to celebrate, yes. And an anniversary soon." He offers Lana another smile. "Here's to many more!"

And so life goes on in the Lupecyll-Atlon home.

-End