requiem for requital.

Xanthippe Arklight | Fae. Princess.

A lone figure sat beneath the shade of the great oak tree by the northeast palace wall, her delicate fingers pulling grass up furiously. The scent of it clung to her hands as Xanthippe Arklight stared off into space, her face a blank mask of composure hiding the turmoil bubbling within her. So many things were poised to change, and she was being shoved closer and closer to a cusp that when she plunged- would forever change her life. Overhead the sky was dark and gray, angry and overcast. There was rain on the wind, she didn't need a shifter's nose to tell that. Things had begun to change only a year ago. In rapid succession. It began when Xanthippe's father fell ill. He was sick and frail, his health and immune systems were frayed. A year ago the young heir was told her father, the King of Fae, had only two years left to live. She watched him slip away in bits everyday; and it tormented the young princess. She still wasn't the official queen of the Fae yet, her father still made final decisions on things; and he wanted Xanthippe to be at least betrothed before she took over the throne- yet another worry heaped onto the young fairy's plate of woes.

But the most pressing issue for the young fairy princess was the threat of the new rebellion. They called themselves the Masked Heirs; and their entire purpose was to prevent her from becoming queen. Snub her life out before she could ascend to throne. And no matter how hard her guards seemed to work they could never find out who was behind this group. Who funded them? Who did they wish to see replace her? Xanthippe may not know until it was too late. The mere thought sent a morbid shiver down her spine despite the near stifling heat. A soft sigh fled from her pale pink lips to dissipate in the summer air- the only indicator of how stressed Xanthippe was. Maybe she could flee. Run off and start a life as a farmer or some other peasant. Far away from the worries of the crown, and all the responsibility that came with the role of queen. Yet even as the thought chased itself through her brain the young woman knew she could never do that. She was needed here. Xanthippe needed to be the one ruling her people, and needed to be with her father in his final months. If he had that long. The court's doctors were still futility trying to flush out a way to buy the frail, elder man a few more years. But everyone knew it was pointless.

Xan, sitting with her legs drawn up to her chest her dress' she could feel cramps beginning to attack the muscle in her legs. Still she remained in solitary thought by her favorite oak tree. Xan's lips had pressed back into a thin line, and the young princess was clearly lost within her own head. She'd need to go back soon, it was likely that the guards were looking for her. The reason that Xanthippe had even come out to her favorite tree today was it had been a busy court day. Listening to the complaints of her subjects, not to mention that their dark counterparts seemed to be planning some attack, if their Intel was correct. Yet another worry. If they launched an attack on her court, that would mean sacrificing men she couldn't spare to fight off the dark court's attacks. "I'm too young for this shit." For a moment, she felt panicked. Terrified. It was the soft rustling of a very familiar patter of footfall that stirred Xanthippe from her musings. For the first time in near an hour she shifted, turning her head to find a familiar and most welcome figure strolling their way towards her. Arlo. The sight of her personal guard, and closest friend and confidant since childhood made the royal's heart flutter. Quickly though Xanthippe wrestled that down. She could never allow herself the possibility of being with Arlo- for many reasons. She was to be queen, the fae expected her to chose a consort who would be able to help her rule. Who would give her strong, fae heirs to produce.

No one would look fondly on their courtship, and even fewer would take to a halfling sitting on the throne. That was the other problem, Arlo was a guard- her personal guard because of his shifter blood. They were far and few, rare beings that had always protected the royal family of Fae. Some thought they were gifts from their Goddess from not straying to a dark path as some fae had. Yet, as he approached that enchantingly beautiful smile etched onto his lips Xanthippe couldn't help but feel the pull towards him that she'd quietly harbored since she was a child. He had been the son of a kitchen maid- and while they were a few years apart in age Xanthippe had always insisted on being around him. Rather than play with other noble fae children, she'd sneak off to the kitchens to play with Arlo. It had made sense the courts reckoned that he be put into the royal guard training and become her personal guard. The only secret that Xanthippe kept from her beautiful dark-haired guard was her own feelings. Calmly she got to her feet, her dress' fabric whispering as she stood to greet him. "Sorry to have run off from the court session. I- I don't think I could stand another minute of my advisers." Xan's voice is gentle, amused as the two approach each other beneath the overcast skies; rain threatening to spill forth at any moment to soak the earth.

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Calvin | Werewolf. Alpha.

A cold wind blew ferociously through the forest that Calvin was desperately combing for any leads on the thing that had been attacking his wolves lately. The young alpha, having only ascended to this spot a few months prior was furious. And who could blame him? A month ago one of his hunting parties hadn't come back. He had been the one to find their bodies drained of blood and torn apart as if they were nothing more than mere rag dolls. Final looks of horror, terror, and pain were forever seared onto their faces. The thought drove the young male further into the dark forest, where nothing dared venture in the darkness that the night brought. The darkness was of little hindrance to the young alpha. His senses were far too sharp to be dulled by something like darkness. The only thing to be heard was the man's footsteps falling against dead leaves and rocks. A snarl etched on his lips. A month ago his friends had died- and he was going to avenge them- even if his council had advised against it. "Calvin please, we do not know what has made it's home in those woods. No one would blame you for not tracking it down." One of his advisers had implored. But the hot-headed male paid them no heed.

His pack looked to him. If something was threatening their generally peaceful way of life- it was up to Clavin to stop it. Not wait around and hope that it left him and his people alone. He wouldn't stand for that. The further that he trekked into the forest, the more unsettled he began to grow. But what could he do? Recently things had been hard. Around the same time his wolves were attacked it appeared the human village that lied south to the forest had been attacked repeatedly as well. And what did the humans do? Blame Calvin's pack, and the other packs. As if wolves concerned themselves with what those sheep were doing. Calvin's blood boiled at the thought of another threat to his pack. When would it end? All he wanted to do was lead his pack in peace. At any rate... He could not turn back to the village, no matter how uneasy the wolf within his spirit was. Ever observant the wolf noted for what seemed like the hundreth time how silent the normally lively forest was. There was no call of owls. No nightlife skulking about, no... Nothing. Besides his own foot falls and that worried Calvin. Yet the alpha gritted his teeth and continued on to the spot they had found the patrol of his wolves.

It wasn't until he'd arrived to the spot, and had begun to poke around for signs or clues to what could be doing this did Calvin begin to forget his nerves. When he saw where his friends blood stained rocks and leaves, yet to be washed away by the cold rains of fall, did Calvin's body begin to tense with anger. Son of a bitch. Whoever did this- was going to pay dearly. Calvin was going to make sure of that. Crouching down, he gently rubbed his fingers against a rock with a particularly large bloodstain, and then carefully inhaling deeply trying to sort out what he could in his human form. Nothing. Nothing but the cold rot of death. It was like hitting a brick wall. At this point Calvin could only hope this was some sort of hunting ground and the thing would return. Then the alpha would demonstrate why not to mess with a pack. Before he could further swear his vengeance, a desperate sound cut through the forest. A scream. Instantly Calvin was on his feet, charging towards the sound as his eyes narrowed. Was another wolf in trouble? Was it a human? Was it the creature he was hunting or a hunter of wolves? There was only one way to find out. Feeling his wolf form begin to trickle forward, his nails elongating into claws, his canines shifting into fangs; and his eyes glowing a fierce crimson in the dark.A sense of urgency fell into his bones as he quickened his run into a lope on all fours, propelling himself past trees and brush.

As he approached the location of the initial scream, Calvin could feel the air grow colder. Not to mention as he approached sounds of a scuffle, a flickering torch light through the trees Calvin couldn't ignore the stench of rotting mold. It nearly made Calvin gag as he burst through the trees. The scene that greeted him was alarming. A woman was lying in the clearing, and the coppery scent of blood misted his delicate senses. Something hovered over her. It was pale, nearly translucent and slowly it turned from the woman. It's features were grotesque. A nose like a bat, pointed ears and red around the mouth- fangs protruding from it's mouth. And death. God he couldn't smell anything else. Before Calvin could move the thing shrieked, and suddenly rushed him- shoving the alpha roughly. Calvin landed on his tailbone and the creature rushed past him- leaving Calvin's head spinning. Fuck. Part of him wanted to get up and charge after the thing, but it's latest victim groaned, stirring on the ground. Frustration boiled in his veins. The girl was injured, and human- and while the scent of monkshood and silver clung to her; Calvin couldn't just leave her there bleeding. What if the thing came back? With a sigh the werewolf shifted back into his fully human face carefully approaching and crouching down beside her and shaking her shoulder. "Hey, hey c'mon get up. You're hurt, and we have to get going before that thing comes back to finish the job."

Arlo
Arlo found cleaning his weapons to be relaxing and a form of self care and that's exactly what he needed after the court session that had been cut short when Xan had dismissed everyone involuntarily upon leaving. The sword that he wore at his side 24/7 was not his or his family's passed down generation to generation but rather it was passed down from royal guard to royal guard, from one protector to another. Being from a common blood family, and a shifter family nonetheless, this sword was representative of so much - of mobility in social status, of honor, of nobility for all those who sought to do justice by those who ruled their lands. The sword was beautiful and he cleaned it gently, the way won would clean themselves, with precision and care. It perfectly hung at his side, and had spilled other's blood at his hands in order to ensure both his and his queen's safety. He smiled at the thought of the soon to be liege. Once he sheathed the sword and made sure that his attire was in arrangement fit to be walking around in the palace, he made sure to go through the kitchen, smiling at the servants and cooks as he did.

The kitchen would always have a special place in his heart for the reason that it's where he had so many of his memories - both good and bad. From playing with Xan when they were children to practicing his sparring moves with packs of seeds that were huge to him when he was young. He ventured outside, smiling gently at the light breeze and the summer sun's rays that fell upon him. He stood where he was, not bothering to make his way towards Xan to scorn her for running out from her duties or to even accompany her as a friend because he took the moment to assess her safety as well as their surroundings. As her guard, her safety was absolutely his number one priority, and her happiness second. For as long as he could remember, his sworn duty as a child was to look out after her and for her, his very experiences shaped around enhancing his skills and body to make sure he was the best fae possible for the job of protecting the last heir of the pure bloodline that had ruled for so long. Not only would not doing his job mean that he would be executed for not being able to effectively protect the princess, but he would readily accept his execution because for all intents and purposes the princess was his world.

There was nothing that he wouldn't do to ensure the princess' happiness and security, and seeing that she was anxiously pulling the grass with her fingers where she sat, his lips couldn't help but quirk up at the corners. Spending every waking moment watching her, making sure nothing befell her, meant that he always had time to pick up her cues and could tell when her facade meant that she was angry, sad, confused, etc underneath. Over the years she had flourished into herself and would no doubt make an amazing queen - one of the many reasons why he would never speak a single breathe of his untoward feelings. Not only was an affair like hers intolerable to her kind, but his sworn duty was to protect her, and he could not do that effectively if he was focused on loving her (and of course, feeling the magnitude of his emotions for her, Arlo thought avoidance and silence was best in order to not confront the severity of his affection). Instead, seeing that the palace was a safe place and heavily guarded, especially with the king's illness, Arlo was able to give Xan the space she needed when she was having moments like these.

The king was increasingly getting worse and would soon pass, leaving his throne behind for his daughter, along with a number of complications from diplomatics and politics that she shouldn't have to be dealing with but would be anyways. As her guard and her confidant though, he would always have an eye on her and the world around her to do whatever was best for her. Seeing her take notice of his presence, Arlo left his smile on his face for her although he wouldn't do that if he was officially guarding - his smiles were reserved for her because as much as he was her confidant, she was his as well. He gave a nod at her words, responding firmly, "I am only glad that you stayed within the palace bounds where you are safe. Your advisors are certainly ... opinionated," he noted. Seeing that she seemed to be overwhelmed from the meeting in a way that he hadn't - as a shifter and guard the matters only registered to him as he analyzed what threats on Xan's life he should be watching out for - he ran his fingers through his hair and spoke again, "Would you like to discuss what happened?"

---

Alina
Alina Maryam had come into the world and had meant to be a healer like her father for when her mother and her brother would come home with war wounds and battle scars to tend to them the way that family does, however, plans don't always work out the way that they should. While she studied herbs, learned about medicine, and even messed around with some mythology and ancient magic in books that were in some old passages, she never truly strived to be anything supernatural or anything more than a human healer. She loved her parents, the fleeting warm memories of them that she had anyways, and so when her brother took their place at 16 with her being 12, she promised herself, her brother, and her parents that she would do absolutely everything in her power to take care of Raf the same way that he had always looked out for his little sister. Of course, this was all shattered when she had to bury the pieces of Trey's body that were left outside the premises of the village's land. That was a little over 2 months ago.

All members of the human village were taught basic hunting skills - both for food and for the supernatural. They were taught from birth that survival was key in a number of realms and although Alina knew that she didn't want to be a hunter, she knew the basics of the craft because everyone had to. Now that she was alone, and the numbers of the village members were dwindling, perfecting her hunting was not only her duty but necessary. For weeks after her brother's death, she did nothing but train day and night. Her archery had always been her strong suit so now she only practiced making silver arrowheads dipped in wolfsbane. Her hand to hand combat had been horrible when she started, but she trained every day with other people she knew although she wouldn't exactly call them friends. Her brother had been well-loved but Alina drew into herself after her parents' death to the point where she didn't socialize very easily, preferring to study healing and make potions for ailments and the like. There were also a couple people who spread rumors about her parents - rumors that her parents had died because they had ventured out too far past the perimeters and had tried to make peace with the outside and were supernatural apologists, so of course those were the instances in which Alina put her subpar fighting skills to use, never 'losing' because even if she got beat up, she managed to leave the other side looking worse. With time her healing mentor, an elderly woman who never took her shit and affectionately called her Lee, warned her about obsessively training for hunting for misplaced rage, but Alina didn't care. There were children in the village who had parents and siblings, and the bodies were racking up -- she didn't want those children to end up like her. She had to do something about it, which was why she found herself tugging on her boots, securing her hair into two cornrows, and then making sure she had everything she needed. There was a knife that was her brother's strapped to her thigh, a gun tucked underneath her shirt, her bow and arrows slung across her back, as well as the inside of her jacket was lined with pouches of harmful things to the supernatural as well as healing elements in case her scouting mission didn't go as planned.

With that, she left the house, not bothering to lock it because there wasn't any crime inside the village. She knew who was on patrol so she easily was able to sneak out of the perimeters. She knew that there was no hunt going on tonight and the patrol ended at the border of the village so she carefully acclimated to the dark and to being extra quiet. She was specifically going out to try and track whatever supernatural creature had been killing so many people that she knew -- even if she wasn't friends with everyone, there were a lot of people in the village who had helped her brother and her when they were in need. According to her watch, two hours passed as she made good time in her mission. So far, all that she had found were some rabbits and a deer that passed through the forest as she ventured thicker. She took a moment to pull out her arrows, not wanting to make excessive noise with her gun, holding them notched from her bow at the ready as she heard rustling. Staying low and to the trees, she surveyed her surroundings and saw something head to her with startling speed. Grimacing, knowing that this was no rush for peace, she called out at first, "Who are you? Stop where you are!" Alina called out as the figure continued heading straight at her.

When it wouldn't stop, let the arrows fly, one after the other, stopping after the third arrow when she realized that it wasn't helping her case. The monster shrieked and Alina saw black blood spill and quickly ran, her heart stuttering in her chest as she ran as fast as she could, going away from the village and home so that she wouldn't lead this monster to more innocent people. With her slim bow tucked back into the sling across her back, she fumbled with the gun she had carried, pumping her legs and turning for a couple seconds only to try and fire off at the monster but seeing that it did little to slow it down, she continued running until it appeared right in front of her from seemingly out of nowhere. She let out an involuntary scream and it grabbed her, searing into her wrists as she fell onto her side, feeling one of her arrows dig into her as it broke a bit of her fall, not that the monkshood would do anything to really hurt her. The monster attached its horrendous face to her side, teeth dragging through her leather jacket, shirt and inevitably the skin of her side as well. She kicked and fought but it was nothing like what the hunters before her had described. Eventually, her eyesight become clouded and she felt like taking a nap, even though she knew she wasn't supposed to, and only really woke up with a masculine figure standing besides her, gently shaking her. She lurched away from him, and though her rational mind was telling her that she had just heard him attempt to get her out of harms way, her natural response was to reach for her bow and arrow but the closest thing was her dagger so she immediately unsheathed it leaned against a tree stump as her eyes surveyed her situation for escape routes...there were none. She was bleeding all over the place, and felt dizzy but she dragged herself up, still clutching her side and gripping her dagger. "I'm not here to hunt," she told the man standing next to her, and it was true, she was here to scout and prepare for a hunt of the monster that had just tried to kill her and probably had killed her brother too - it was not her intention to do as the village sometimes did and hunt for the sake of getting rid of supernatural beings. Regardless, she couldn't trust anyone - especially when her family's killer was out here, first her parents and then her brother as well.

(?)

@ Breezeblocks
(would you like to continue this?)