Iliya knew she was a strange sort.

Since she was a young girl, she never minded Wyving as the other children did. Neither Therian nor Fae enjoyed the experience, often equating it to spinning violently on a ride only to be flung off due to faulty strapping.

She'd made her way to Torchkye with begrudging company, accompanying a Guard named Rollin who didn't seem inclined to her or their journey. Still, he was traveling to mitigate a trespassing dispute and insisted a royal such as herself shouldn't leave alone with the current events.

Though she didn't mind, Iliya was pleased to be free of him when she reached the Port terminal and stepped inside.

Unlike the start of Solstice, people weren't pushing and shoving in an attempt to breach the lines. In fact, there were only a few other souls inside the building, all organized neatly as they waited for access to a Bulletwire.

Luckily for her, most still loathed Wyving.

Iliya stepped to the front of a tube shaped device, admiring the new silver work along the doors and the accenting lights glowing to life on the keypad.

Punching in her personal identification number, she stepped inside and knelt on the teleportation pad. Iliya made certain her knee touched the center of the crossed ward on the floor and watched the countdown display.

When it hit three, she held her breath and closed her eyes, picturing Mirror Falls in her mind's eye.

Humid air enveloped her as the smell of salty brine morphed into a crisp maple breeze awash with petrichor. Mirror falls was wrapped in tall forest, trees towering above the brick buildings and ivy coated street lamps.

If she were ever to imagine a city made by small folk and sprites, this would be their home. Iliya often admired the twinkling wisps of mana dancing through the air, brushing through the grass and migrating towards the lake. Many former Court members retired in Mirror Falls, as it grew to be the quietest civilization.

Without any neighboring developments and the wildfolk hiding in the southern planes, Iliya knew why.

Still, she minded her business in the empty streets, awed by an adorable candle shop signifying her entry into town. The stores were lined up side by side, an awning stretching over every entrance due to the quick changing weather.

Iliya could taste the coming storm without looking up, the smell was enchanting and she never minded a little rain.

Wanting nothing more than to toss these letters into Orla Dalaminai's mail and disappear, Iliya huffed to herself as she stepped up to a street full of small cottages and pressed forward.

When she got to the end, her eyes landed on the familiar house immersed in gorgeous flowers and trees. Anything of color, her grandmother was certain to have, from the cherry blossoms lining her small path, to marigolds and rose bushes wrapping around her porch. The outer walls were a deep merlot, bordered with a soft white the color of seafoam. Iliya hadn't seen a more accurately fitted home.

Her knock was soft and tentative. She prayed for her grandmother to be busy or running errands, despite knowing these papers were too vital to lose in a mailbox.

Orla answered the door swiftly, a quiet smile on her face. Unlike Destry's dark hair, Orla shared in Iliya's naturally vibrant feature, however her face was more structured and pointed. As the first child of Locosta Dalaminai, she'd expect nothing less.

"Welcome child," she grinned, reaching out to wrap her free arm around Iliya. "Has Destry sent you to me?"

Iliya nodded, still shocked by the warmth radiating from Orla's eyes. She didn't appear a day older than fifty, yet those green eyes spoke to the three centuries she'd experienced.

She opened the pack on her hip and pulled out the letters. "Has she told you much about the attack...?"

Her grandmother frowned, posture slackening as she took them in hand. "Unfortunately, Destry has avoided communicating with me in general as of late. Perhaps avoiding the ear-full she knows is waiting for her."

Iliya chuckled, fighting the smile on her lips. "Ear-full?"

"When I was Queen, the Taqrias feared our lands, not to mention our mana," she explained, a hardness settling into her eyes. "Destry's become soft, unable to do what is right for Chiori. I suspect she knows it too."

Her body tensed. "You believe she is weak?"

Orla considered the question for a moment before shaking her head. "Not weak, merely soft. Your mother loves her people dearly, but since–" she cut herself off, fingers tightening around the paper. Iliya knew what she was going to say, as several others had without remorse many times before her.

Iliya took a deep breath. "Since my father left, you mean?"

"Yes..." Orla said regretfully. "When Seinen discovered the pregnancy and Destry was unwilling to terminate, her will was shaken. Rightly so, I couldn't imagine such betrayal, I can only hope you will find a more decisive path when you rule."

Cold sweat streaked down Iliya's back as her lips tightened. Now was not the time to destroy her grandmother's faith in her, let alone portray herself to be something she wasn't. Iliya knew she was no more meant to lead than her mother, no more gifted or knowledgable than her.

Mechanically, she forced herself to nod.

"You'll be reviewing the reports for the other houses?" she asked, changing the subject.

Orla nodded, sighing. She left the door open and left to set the letters down on her dining table. "Indeed. We've come too far with these treaties to misstep now. I need to make sure the information is sound before we share with neighboring forces."

Iliya's spirits rose. Before her was a Queen of many centuries proving just why stepping down did not mean relinquishing power. She trust Orla, watching those calculating eyes trace over the room emptily as she organized her thoughts.

Knowing a distraction when she saw one, Iliya bowed her head and smiled. "I've a few other errands to run, Aviathi."

"Your Oviath will be home in a few minutes, if you'd like to see him," she replied, the light reaching her gaze again. A kind, open invitation she surely knew would be declined.

"Another time," Iliya said. "I promise."

Orla returned her smile as Iliya closed the door, taking another steading breath as she tried to shake off the mention of her father. His name felt like oil in the pit of her stomach. She'd met him once, by accident as a small girl. Then never again.

She prayed her second task would be more pleasant.

Iliya had heard of The Last Flare before. As far as she knew, it was a welcoming and occasionally rambunctious place where the societies mingled without care. Siofra had begged her to go once or twice, but Iliya was certain it wouldn't be her scene.

The building appeared cozy as she approached, gentle rainfall deepening the red brick exterior as darkness closed in overhead.

As she stepped inside, the taphouse in Mirror Falls reminded Iliya of an Apothecary she visited once when she was a young girl, only with more boisterous and chaotic patrons bumbling about inside. The smell of ale and tonics was strong enough without the pungent smoke cascading over her vision as she pushed into the bar.

Iliya felt her nerves begin to creep up on her as people brushed past her, cheering and laughing. Despite knowing Sorein was busy aiding his father and was likely using the work to hide from the world, she wasn't certain why she agreed to this, even if the mission was simple.

Bring Noah home.

Swallowing her discontent for a few of the slumped over patrons, she pushed her way up to the bar and narrowed her gaze on the thousands of different bottles and glasses on shelves behind. Some even sparkled to life with magical enhancement.

The bartender looked ancient for a Therian, his hair and beard lined with silver and his arms beginning to wrinkle. His comfort made Iliya smile, wondering why he hadn't chosen to seal himself, but it eased her tension.

She sighed through her nose and looked around for the blonde head. There were several, but none quite like his. Having been warned Noah liked the company of women, she braced herself for the potential of interrupting something she'd rather not see.

For the most part, everyone appeared to have their clothes on.

Eventually, her eyes landed on a tall silhouette slouched in the back with a cigar.

Noah was a far cry from his normal, upbeat self. His brown eyes several shades darker than normal, his eyes narrowed in pensive thought as he proceeded to blow out smoke and glare outwardly at the dance floor.

Iliya waited in quiet fascination, bracing her arms on the counter as she watched him. A woman sauntered up to him in little more than a corset and short skirts, swaying her hips to a Bentriic tune.

To her surprise, his mood didn't shift and his attention barely swept over her. Noah's following words were curt and brief, but the sentence sent the woman into a tantrum. She yelled a few obscenities and stormed off.

The behavior appeared to be a shell of the light she'd seen when meeting him the first time, even if she was certain each person wore their own mask, this seemed rather extreme.

Twisting the ring on her forefinger mindlessly, Iliya made her decision. Nervously slipping through the distance between them, she knew most of the attendees were too drunk or distracted to notice her.

Noah rolled his eyes up to her before freezing, his mouth parted as if he planned to drawl more careless things at another woman. She watched a decision flicker through his eyes, some consideration given to his next response.

His brow raised, a silent war echoing in his eyes. "Iliya," Noah greeted calmly, nodding.

She could almost breathe a sigh of relief just at hearing someone speak to her normally. "Noah," she replied, tipping her head back.

Iliya ran a critical eye over him in one quick motion, brows furrowed in confusion as the mixture of smells inside the building didn't seem to extend to him. This corner seemed to become his own private hideaway.

"You're not intoxicated," she murmured, not meaning to speak aloud. Her shock wasn't dampened by the loud crowd, only making her more uncomfortable.

Noah chuckled in response and pulled his propped feet off the table in front of him. His white dress shirt was wrinkled and rolled up to the elbows, still wearing formal attire despite the disarray. She even caught a few smudges of blood lining the cuffs.

Shaking his head, he shrugged. "You're out in public."

She didn't expect the startled laugh that escaped her lips. "What?"

"Oh, I thought we were stating the obvious," he mused.

His dull, quiet tone saddened Iliya as she tried to grapple with the reality before her. She wondered if the battle alone had scarred him or something significantly worse.

A loud crash disrupted across the room, two men squaring off as if they were going to fight. She barely saw one of the flying barstools before another table was knocked over.

Noah exhaled sharply and pushed out of his wooden chair. "Come, let's get you out of here."

Though Iliya appreciated the offer, she didn't feel the urgency he seemed to. Fights were not nearly as disturbing to her when she wasn't involved with them. Still, she followed him out of the tap house and onto the quiet streets illuminated by firelight.

"You can tell his royal pain-in-the-behind that I don't need a sitter," Noah grumbled, ducking beneath an awning as they stepped into the rain. "I'm rather surprised he let you journey all the way here with the current state of things."

Spirits were the least of Iliya's concerns.

Between the weather and her rising questions about the secrets her family seemed desperate to keep from her, Iliya couldn't possibly think about Sorein's worries. These distractions were necessary for her sanity.

"He'd like to speak with you," Iliya replied, lifting a hand to summon a golden rain barrier.

"I'm sure he would," Noah muttered, watching her makeshift umbrella and smirking faintly. A thought danced in his eyes and the smile grew. "Come, let's go for a walk."

"Where are we going?" Iliya asked, chasing after him as he started walking briskly towards a wooden path.

Noah glanced over his shoulder and waved for her to follow.

"You'll see," he answered. "I think it's time you and I talked."