Hey Everybody! Pichu here with another chapter only some, what, two months since my last update? Look at that turnaround! This chapter and hopefully the next few should be coming out fairly swiftly since work is a lot lighter during the summer!

As always thanks so much to Draen, Darkmist111 and Antoine for reviewing as well as a huge thanks to Antoine for being a fantastic beta reader. I appreciate your support so much and I'm always glad to hear your feedback time and time again. Thanks so much for taking the time to read and post your feedback!

Anyway I hope you all enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 21: Celeste the Fair

Celeste was almost certain, for a moment, that her heart stopped beating right in her chest. She felt all the color drain from her face, in spite of the fact that her brother probably couldn't see it. She turned to Stephon and in the dim light she could see that his mouth was hanging open, a look of utter shock, dismay and terror on his face all at once. The dead silence left Celeste's ears ringing as she stared at her brother, trying her best to comprehend her brother's words.

"Percy... what... did you say...?" Celeste stammered, this time not so much asking for clarification, but rather so that she could affirm that what she'd heard was in fact real.

"I told father that you two are getting married." Percy replied for the third and final time, "Eloping really is what I said. I told him that you met in Corneria, fell in love, but a dispute with his family kept you from being able to marry there, so you planned to have the ceremony done over seas, hence going to Elfheim. It wasn't an easy tale to think up, I'll have you know, and it's quite a convincing one."

"So you told him I'm marrying Stephon!?" Celeste shouted, resisting the urge with all her might to grab Percy by the collar and shake him, "What in the five hells were you thinking? I can't get married to..."

"You're not really getting married to anyone, Celeste." Percy hissed, putting his hands up, "Gods, will you keep your voice down?"

Celeste drew away, her shoulders sinking. Deep down she had to admit, he'd come up with a good bluff working on the spot, but to come out with one like that, one that suggested something so intimate, and with Stephon of all people. The thought made her shiver a bit. Not that Stephon wasn't a fair enough looking man, but he'd also been the man who nearly killed her several times in Corneria, and while he wasn't terrible to take orders from, she couldn't imagine courting him. The thought was nearly more than she could bear.

"I know you're not thrilled at the prospect, but this was the best I could do. I wanted to get you the best chance of securing passage out of here. I think I've done that." Percival explained. There was a huff in his voice as he crossed his arms, as if he'd expected some sort of thanks. Celeste just felt heated.

"You'll just need to pretend to be courting one another while you're meeting with Father. I don't care how you treat each other outside of that, but for right now we need you to put on a good facade. Can you do that for me?"

Celeste sighed, glancing at Stephon one last time. The knight looked stiff, more uncomfortable than Celeste had ever seen him look. She bit her lip. Stephon was to be married to Lady Sarah back in Corneria. If word were to get out about his supposed plans to 'elope' with Celeste, she could barely imagine how she would take it. It was no small wonder that Stephon looked so pale.

"Stephon?" Celeste turned to the knight, putting a hand on his shoulder, "Are you alright with this?"

Stephon looked up stiffly. He shook himself, as if driving a hundred horrible thought from his head as he turned to face Percival once more and nodded.

"If this is what we must do to secure passage, then I have no objections. Just ensure that word of this doesn't travel very far." he said stiffly, though it was obvious that in any other situation his response would have been a very solid and emphatic 'no'. Celeste's shoulders sagged. If anything it was a comfort to see that Stephon was just about as pleased with the arrangement as she was.

"Of course." Percival nodded his head, "On that note, you'll want to keep this arrangement quiet. You're not to let anyone know that this is a faux engagement, father has ears in many places. If he learns about this, you're liable to be sent back to Corneria, the whole lot of you."

Celeste paled a little bit, and saw Stephon stiffen out of the corner of her eye. She cursed lightly under her breath. Percival and father had no idea that sending her back to Corneria would be sending her back to her death. They had no way of knowing, and Celeste was determined to keep it that way.

"Then we'll not speak of it." Stephon nodded, "We'll play the role of a loving couple from now until the moment we set foot on that ship."

And not a moment longer.Celeste added silently. Already her visit to Pravoka was going from bad to worse. She couldn't imagine what meeting with her father was going to be like now. The thought had already been uncomfortable, but now? Now the thought was nearly unbearable.

"That especially counts for you, Celeste." Percival spoke again, crossing his arms as he turned to her, "You're to let no one in on this little arrangement of ours, especially that girl, Aria."

Celeste's face fell. She hadn't considered Aria. Her heart dropped through to the bottom of her chest.

"What? But-..."

"No buts..." Percival crossed his arms, "If she knows, the whole town is liable to know. You'll keep this quiet from her and from everyone."

The harshness of his voice almost made Celeste flinch. She gritted her teeth. This was what she hated about him, and about father. There were no suggestions to be made from either of them, only orders. There was never room for compromise or argument, and with her current predicament, she was in no position to argue. Swallowing her pride, she nodded her head.

"Fine." she said.

"Excellent." Percival seemed to relax at last, "You two compose yourselves. Mother and Clarice are on their way here to greet you. I'll hold them off until you're ready."

Celeste felt her face turn red. She hadn't seen her mother, or her older sister, Clarice, in ages, and she certainly hadn't been prepared to meet them. Certainly not so soon.

"Oh..." The only response she could manage was a trembling exclamation before Percival turned to exit the small storage room.

"I'll come get you once it's really urgent, but don't wait up." he said as he pushed open the door, "Sooner rather than later, Celeste."

Celeste winced, staring into the now garishly bright light of the inn as Percival walked away. Celeste stood, and felt like her heart was about to explode from her chest.

"What in the five hells was he thinking?" She growled, "What is this? Who the hell does he think he is!?"

"C-Celeste!" Stephon put his hands up, looking nervous, "Gods, calm down will you?"

"Calm down?" Celeste turned to him, hissing, "How can I calm down? I'm not in here for even a day and already he's trying force me into some... some sick fantasy marriage scenario. I should have known we couldn't trust him. I should have known!"

"We're not being forced into anything." Stephon frowned, "I think it was kind of clever. Off-putting yes, but a clever ruse."

"It is not clever. It's sick is what it is." Celeste snapped back, "Gods if I could just wring his neck right now."

"That's hardly called for." Stephon rolled his eyes, putting a hand on Celeste's shoulder, "Besides, if there was one thing he did right, it was choosing me as your mock groom."

Celeste raised an eyebrow, backing away from Stephon carefully, "What do you mean?"

Stephon chuckled, a smirk growing on his face, "Celeste, my entire life has been devoted to the study of courtship. Need I remind you that I was the chosen suitor for Lady Sara, princess of Corneria, up until my father's betrayal."

Celeste rolled her eyes. She knew what he said was the truth, but when he said it, it sounded like bragging.

"I know how to entice not just a young lady, but her family as well." Stephon went on. He moved in slowly, taking her by the hand. Celeste was nearly taken off guard by how lightly he took her hand in his, and flashed her an utterly disarming smile.

"You just leave this whole thing to me." Stephon said, grinning, "Even if you do absolutely nothing at all, I'll have your family believing we are nothing but the most perfect couple this kingdom has ever seen."

Celeste took her hand back. If she hadn't been put off before, she certainly was now.

"Can you maybe save that for when we're in front of my parents?" Celeste asked.

Stephon stepped away, clearing his throat.

"Right, sorry." he said, "I'm just trying my best to get into character."

Celeste nodded, shaking herself. The light of the inn was beckoning her. Out there she would have to face, now not just her brother, but her sister and mother as well. Not to mention Aria. Aria who would have to see her now in the throws of courtship with a man she'd never seen before. A man like Stephon. Her heart sank further. If she couldn't face Aria before, she certainly couldn't now.

"I know this isn't ideal." Stephon's face fell a bit. This time, he sounded genuinely concerned, "If you really don't want to do this, I'm not going to force you."

"But, we have go through with this now, don't we?" Celeste asked, doing nothing to hide the bitterness in her voice, "We don't have a choice."

"You can just say the word and I'll stop." Stephon said, "We can find another way to Elfheim. I'm not afraid of disappointing your parents."

"They'll have us sent back to Corneria." Celeste shook her head, "Not just us but Maric and Shane as well. We'll all be killed the second we set foot there. We worked so hard to get here."

"We've overcome worse than them." Stephon said, though there was a quiver in his voice. He was nervous, just as scared as she was by the prospect of being sent back to Corneria, "We wouldn't go down without a fight. I'm certain we'd find a way."

Celeste shook her head. She was loathe to admit it, but her brother had found the absolute way of least resistance towards getting them to Elfheim. At least as it stood, they had no other options. A few hours of stolen pride was a worthy sacrifice if it meant preserving their lives for a few more days at least.

"It's fine." Celeste said at last, "We'll go through with this. We'll make it convincing, and then we can forget about all of this in a few day's time. Right?"

Stephon nodded. He offered her a stiff smile, and then held out a hand to her.

"Shall we go, then?"

Celeste nodded, and took hold of his hand, likely a bit more stiffly than she should have, and the two made their way arm in arm out of the storage closet, and back into the light of the inn.

"Celeste!"

There were a number of things Celeste had planned to do as soon as she was back in sight of everyone at the bar. The motions of leaning against Stephon's shoulder, working up the best smile she could manage and acting as doting and loving as she could muster in the presence of the inn patrons, but none of that came to pass. None of that came to pass because the second she was within view, a tall, slim girl, clad in a dressing gown came flying at her from just outside her field of peripheral vision and enveloped her in an absolutely bone crushing hug. Celeste choked, the air near entirely squeezed from her lungs as a second woman, older with graying hair, came rushing over, her eyes red and misty behind an ornate fan that she held. The telltale sound of heels clicking against the lacquered wood sounded as the two descended upon Celeste, loudly and violently.

"Celeste, my darling, after all these years you've finally come back to us!" the older woman cried, dabbing the corners of her eyes with a lacy, white handkerchief, "Oh how we've missed you. How we worried for you. And by the gods, you've grown so thin, oh what's happened to my beautiful daughter?"

Celeste fought the urge to roll her eyes. She looked up, smiling back to greet her aged mother, who stood before her just as well made and proper as the day she'd left. She was dressed in a red, well-to-do looking dress, sporting several petticoats and a large hat with a red feather in it. Thinking on it, her attire almost resembled Maric's though her frock was much less torn, and far more garnish looking. She'd taken to wearing such outfits in order to appear like royalty, but after seeing the King, Stephon and Lady Sarah, and their way of dress, it was obvious that all of them paled in comparison. Celeste could clearly see the wince on Stephon's face a he beheld them for the first time.

Clarice was hardly any better off as she stood back, letting go of Celeste at last. She was clad in a purple dress, decorated almost entirely in floral patterns. She was taller than Celeste by a good number of inches, but the two had almost exactly the same face. Clarice's hair was almost the same color as Celeste's though with all the dirt caked in hers it was almost impossible to tell that it was. Looking at Clarice was like peering into a mirror that led to an alternate dimension. A world where Celeste grew up to be everything that her mother and father had wanted her to be. The thought made her stomach churn.

"Celeste, I can't believe it's really you!" Clarice exclaimed, taking her hands and placing them on either side of Celeste's face, "By the gods, you've grown so thin. And you've stayed so small. What's become of you in Corneria, we've heard so little of you! Why, we'd thought by now that you might be dead. It broke our hearts!"

"We always kept the hope in our hearts that one day you would return to us." Mrs. Phoenix chimed in, still fanning her face, as if to try and keep the red from spreading to the rest of her delicately kept features, "And here you are, my beautiful daughter, finally returning to us, and with a strapping young groom to boot."

Celeste flushed a bit as she looked back at Stephon. They hadn't had a chance to compose themselves, much less practice any of their interactions. A mild panic flew through her as she searched to meet Stephon's eyes.

"It's such a pleasure to finally meet you, madame." Stephon glided in before Celeste could even begin to react and gently took hold of Mrs. Phoenix's hand, bowing and kissing the top of her fingers delicately, "May I be so graced as to have your name?"

"My, such manners." the look on the woman's face was one of pure ecstasy as she smiled back at Stephon, "Roseline Phoenix, but you can call me Rose if you like."

"Mrs. Phoenix, I would like to say it is an honor to finally meet you." Stephon went on, flashing a winning smile at the two of them, "Your daughter is absolutely one of the finest young ladies I've ever met. To finally be meeting you in person after she's spoken so highly of you is an absolute joy."

Roseline Phoenix flushed, offering a tittering laugh as she waved him off.

"Oh my, Celeste. Such a gentleman you've come home with."she laughed, "Come, come, we must get you two home. Your father will be absolutely overjoyed to see you back."

Celeste was stunned. Somehow, somehow this was working perfectly. Stephon was utterly convincing in his acting. There was hardly a crack in his composure. Every movement he made was fluid and perfect. Standing next to him made Celeste feel almost inadequate.

Celeste's shoulders fell a bit as she noticed the cheerful expression on her mother's face. Celeste had never seen her mother dote on her like this before. It was the happiest she'd seen her in years, the happiest she'd ever seen her doing anything that was concerned with Celeste's affairs anyway.

"Oh Celeste, I can't tell you how happy I am to have you back with us!" Clarice exclaimed, grabbing her sister's arm. Celeste nearly wrenched herself away, but she did her best to maintain her composition. A stiff nod and a forced smile seemed to be enough to get her by for the moment.

"I'm so glad you finally grew out of that awful phase." Roseline added, gazing back over her shoulder at Celeste, "All that running about, wearing the most awful things, you made it a nightmare just to get a proper suitor interested. And now look at you, returned to us with a proper gentleman. And you've grown so thin! What's happened to you these last few years?"

Celeste felt her face growing hotter and hotter as her mother spoke. It took all the strength she had to resist the urge to pull away. It felt strange to stare into her mother's face again and see a smile behind all the powder and make up. The image of her face pulled into an intimidating scowl, ready with a hand full of admonishments, and prepared to list in short order all the ways she'd disappointed the family, followed up in turn with an open palmed smack if she was particularly unlucky. She fought the urge to glance down at the three glistening rings that still sat on her mother's right hand. She remembered them well.

"It's really all quite a story." Stephon went right along, never missing a beat, his eyes meeting Celeste's for a moment. For a moment, she was sure she caught a flash of concern before the knight looked away again, "I apologize for our current state. The trip over here was absolutely miserable. It's nothing I wouldn't weather for my darling Celeste, but I can admit, it did take quite a bit out of us."

"Why you poor darlings!" Roseline put a hand to her mouth, her bright red fan coming up as if to shield the mock horror on her face, "You must come back to the estate at once! We'll have you clothed and washed up at once. Oh, your father will be so pleased to see you."

The look of relief that crossed Stephon's face was almost comical. He glanced back at Celeste, offering her a reassuring smile, but Celeste could barely manage to look at him. All might have been going according to plan, but Celeste was reliving a nightmare. She mustered the strength to smile back, a forced smile that hurt her cheeks, and she saw the glimmer of concern return to Stephon's eyes.

He turned away quickly, clearing his throat.

"Right then, do carry on. I would be most pleased to meet Celeste's father." Stephon said at last, nodding to Roseline, "Please do lead the way. I'm sure there is much more that you wish to discuss, but come, let's be out of the way of prying ears."

Roseline nodded, and gave another tittering laugh as she turned beckoning Celeste and Stephon to follow. Stephon turned to Celeste, offering her his arm, and clasped her hand gently when she took it. She could barely look at him, still fighting back a mix of embarrassment and utter disdain. Their processional reached the front of the inn, drawing the attention of quite a few of the inn's patrons as they passed. Arm in arm with Stephon, Celeste turned her head to look back at the bar, and prayed that Aria wasn't looking. Instead she met eyes with an incredibly confused looking Maric.

Blast it, neither of us told Maric about this. Celeste cringed, glancing back at Stephon as they drew away. She tugged on Stephon's arm, trying to get his attention, but already they were nearly to the front door.

Celeste bit her lip, knowing full well there was nothing she could do to help the poor, confused looking mage as he watched them process from the inn, into the streets. She glanced back at him one last time, offering an apologetic nod as the doors closed behind her.

Don't worry yourself Maric. She willed him mentally, This will all be over soon. We'll explain it all later.

Her heart sank a bit as they burst into the cold afternoon air, and started towards the spires of their estate that loomed just out of reach. She felt a different kind of cold spreading through her now, the dread of an old fear, rearing its ugly head once again after being kept dormant for so long. It peered down at her, and Celeste could swear that she saw the old building licking its lips as they approached. She'd sworn to herself that she would never come back to that house.

She hated herself for being wrong.

We'll explain it all later, She assured herself again, repeating the phrase in her mind, At least, I hope we will.

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Maric didn't have much chance to voice his surprise, or his confusion, as Celeste and Stephon processed out of the inn arm in arm, holding to each other like.. a couple? Maric rubbed his eyes. That couldn't be right. Either something drastic had changed within the last couple of minutes, or his eyes were deceiving him.

Stephon's regiment must have taken a bigger toll on me than I'd thought. He rubbed his head, wincing a little. Certainly he must have been seeing things. What other explanation was there? Shaking his head he leaned against the bar counter, trying to collect himself.

"Are you alright?" From across the bar a feminine voice caught Maric's attention. The red mage turned, and saw a girl about his age, presumably the innkeeper Stephon had spoken of last night. She was watching him carefully, almost curiously.

"Oh," Maric almost gave a start, trying to mask the confusion on his face by working up a thoroughly unconvincing smile, "Right, I'm just fine. Sorry, it's just been a rough morning."

"You and me both." There was a weary note in the innkeeper's voice as she leaned against the counter. She couldn't have been much older than Celeste was, but she had a world weary look in her eyes as she spoke. She looked troubled by something, or more likely a number of somethings.

"Can I get you anything?" The girl looked distracted as she made her way back behind the counter, "There should still be some leftovers from breakfast left if you were hungry."

Maric shook his head, taking a seat. Normally he would never turn down a hot meal, but his stomach was still turning from the morning's events.

"Just something to drink, I think." Maric replied, placing a few gil on the counter, "Something cold."

"You've got it!"

Maric rested his head on the palm of his hand and took a look around the bar. It was much more lively than it had been last night, but even now there was an anxious, unsettling feeling that made the atmosphere of the place feel nervous, almost hostile. Everyone seemed to be on edge, even more so now than last night. Celeste's brother, Percival, and his warnings against staying still swam in his mind. The pirates, the disappearances, everything about the port town pointed to them being in drastic need of some kind of change. Surely if they were to be Warriors of Light, they must have been sent there for a reason.

A frothy mug of ale hit the bar counter next to Maric's arm, as the innkeeper returned.

"Try not to look too enthusiastic." she chided as she scooped the gil he'd left from the counter.

"Sorry." Maric shook his head again, "It's just been a long morning."

"You said that already." the girl frowned, tiling her head to look Maric over, and for a moment she was silent.

When she spoke again her voice was hushed and hesitant.

"You wouldn't happen to be one of the Warriors of Light, would you?"

Maric nearly choked on his ale. He looked up at the innkeeper, trying to mask his surprise, but again he failed.

"P-pardon?" Maric stammered, looking up at her again. She chuckled.

"Your friend, that little black mage, was in here earlier, I think. That was what he called you." she frowned, leaning away.

"Oh, right, Shane." Maric nodded, "That makes sense." He shook himself, looking around. With a start he realized that he'd left the boy all alone in the morning, and even now there didn't seem to be any sign of him at the inn. His skin crawled a little. Didn't Percival say people in Pravoka were disappearing?

"He left a little while ago, if you were looking for him." the girl mentioned, perhaps noticing the panic that had begun to creep into Maric's face, "I told him about a magic shop down in the south district." Once again there was a serious look on the girl's face. She leaned in, looking Maric dead in the eyes as she spoke, "Listen, I'm not going to meddle in your affairs, but you should probably follow him. He's got the attention of a couple of Bikke's men. He scared them off for now, but they'll be back looking for him, and probably looking for you too. You should probably spend some time down there with him until things settle down around here."

Maric nodded. There wasn't much he could say back to that. The gravity in the tone of the innkeeper's voice and the note of warning in her eyes was enough to send a loud enough message to Maric. He needed to steer clear of the Inn, and make sure that Celeste, Stephon and Shane did so as well.

"Right," Maric nodded, standing. He was certain he didn't hide it well, but his heart was racing, "Thank you, I... I think I'd better go find him i-if... ah..."

"You have some very brave friends." the girl spoke again, interrupting Maric's stammering response, "But I think you should try to inspire them to be more careful. These aren't affairs you should deal in. You stand a chance of getting yourselves, and the rest of us into quite the mess."

There was a pause, and the girl flashed Maric a knowing smile.

"And we don't want any messes around here, do we?"

She said nothing more. Without another word the innkeeper had disappeared back behind the counter, and Maric made his way towards the door. Another chill crept down his spine. He didn't have the faintest idea what the girl meant. Was it a threat? A warning? A cry for help? All three?

Maric shook his head. I need to find Shane first. All of this can wait.

Without wasting another second Maric darted out of the inn and began to make his way towards the southern district of Pravoka. The port town was quiet again on the streets, though perhaps a touch more lively than it had been when they arrived. There were people about, sparsely scattered, but enough to make the port town look lived in. People turned their heads as Maric made his way through the winding streets, following the narrow paths towards the southern gates as quickly as he could. In the back of his mind he couldn't help thinking about the innkeeper's warning.

The dread pirate, Bikke's men were looking for Shane, and probably also for him. If he had to cross blades with one of them, how would he fare? He could barely hold his own against Stephon. What if there were more than one, three of them, five of them? Surely he could use his magic, but to what ends, and for how long. Magic meant waiting, and Shane might not have time to wait. Maric shook his head.

I shouldn't have left him on his own. He admonished himself, We're Warriors of Light, and on a quest filled with dangers. Matoya said it herself, if something happens to one of us...

"Hi Maric!"

Maric almost jumped a foot in the air. He was certain his heart had never beat faster than in that very moment, when Shane's small hand caught him by the shoulder. Maric turned, and put a hand to his head, a sigh of relief leaving him.

"Shane, thank the gods!" he sighed, his knees suddenly feeling wobbly again. He realized he'd taken off running again, and so soon after suffering such an intense training session with Stephon. Never had there been a fonder sight for Maric, than laying eyes upon Shane once more, who stood beaming up at him from beneath the shadow of his hat.

"Were you looking for the magic shop too?" Shane asked, looking around, "I was trying to find it, but it's harder to spot than I thought. I really wish this map worked..."

Shane's body slumped a bit sullenly as he pulled out the rolled piece of parchment Matoya had given them. He squinted, his bright yellow eyes seeming to scour the blank paper for clues as to how to bring it to life, but he came up disappointingly short.

"I don't think you're going to get any use out of it like this." Maric frowned a little, looking over the boy's shoulder at the blank piece of parchment, "Matoya said it needs a magic word to activate it. It's not going to do anything without it."

"She wouldn't have given it to us if she wasn't going to give us a way to use it." Shane's eyes didn't leave the paper for a second, "That doesn't seem right."

"Well, maybe before we leave for Elfheim we'll have to ask her." Maric said, plucking the blank map out of Shane's hands and rolling it up once again. Shane seemed to shiver at the thought.

"I don't think we should go back there with Sir Carris until we have her eye." he said, shifting nervously, "She might turn him into a broom."

Maric stared at Shane for a moment, and Shane stared back, incredulous.

"What?"

"You know, she asked for Stephon as a servant." Shane replied, clasping his hands, "But all her servants are brooms. They all can move and talk and everything, all on their own. If she wants Stephon as a servant, she probably means she wants to turn him into one of them."

Maric felt the blood drain from his face, horror dawning on him all at once. Not only was it a horrible fate to consider, but the thought that they could have condemned Stephon to such a fate made Maric's knees feel weak.

"Ye merciful gods, that really isn't what she's going to do, is it?" Maric stared at Shane, the color gone from his face.

"Do you think we should let Sir Carris know?" Shane asked, tilting his head.

"No!" Maric's response was so quick it nearly surprised even him, "No, I think, we'll be fine. We'll just find Matoya's eye and the debt will be repaid. That's all."

Shane nodded carefully, as if thinking deeply on Maric's words. At last he nodded, and smiled up at Maric.

"Okay, Maric." he said, and Maric sighed, relieved.

"So, what were you looking for this magic shop for, anyway?" Maric asked, hastily changing the subject. He wanted the thought of Matoya turning people into brooms to be out of his mind as quickly as possible.

"Well, I was hoping that someone there might know the magic words for that map." Shane said, motioning to the map in Maric's hands, "I was also hoping that maybe we could find some more spells. Maybe something that can be cast without ah... attracting so much attention."

Maric nodded silently. Whatever happened at the inn must have turned a few heads. There was enough reason to want a larger selection of spells to choose from. Shane had come a long way from the magic-less mage he'd been in Corneria, struggling by with a sleep spell and not much else. He'd now mastered both the Thunder and Fire spells he'd taken from Rachen's shop. After the fire, the rest of the tomes that Rachen owned were likely burned up, so finding a new set of spell books was nearly a must for the two of them.

"You were headed in the right direction." Maric said, tucking the blank map under his arm as he started to walk through the streets of the southern district, "Keep your eyes peeled. Magic shops tend to be well hidden, especially the ones that deal in black magic."

Shane nodded, following close behind Maric. He seemed incredibly at ease, considering he was allegedly being pursued by pirates. Judging by the way they'd fared against them the last time they faced off with the pirates, Maric felt no more comfortable than he had when he was alone. Even together with Celeste and Stephon, their chances of success felt slim. If Bikke's crew was enough to keep an entire port town in fear, there surely wasn't much the four of them could do, but if they didn't try how could they call themselves Warriors of Light?

Perhaps some extra magic would be a good place to start.

When it wasn't being washed with a deluge of rain, Pravoka was a rather charming port town. The slate and cobblestone walkways that snaked throughout the hamlet were surrounded on all sides by shimmering canals, that all seemed to flow from the center of the city to the perimeter. Every building they passed, be it a shop or residential, all built with brick on the bottom, but with upper floors built from wood paneling, all painted a gleaming white. Salt from the sea bleached both the brick of the pathways and the buildings that lined them, but to Maric, all of it was captivating. Living in Corneria all his life, Maric had never been so close to the sea, much less to see it closing in on all sides, as it did now. In Corneria it had always felt like a far off destination. They had a port, of course, but it was one he'd never seen. Now up close he realized that the water could stretch for miles with no sign of ending for what seemed like an eternity. It was terrifying in a way, but also inspiring. Maric wasn't quite sure which he should feel first.

"I don't see anything..." Shane's shoulders slumped as they passed around the same corner they'd seen three times before, "Maric, do you think we're in the right place?"

"Perhaps not." Maric sighed, coming to a halt. He honestly hadn't been looking very hard, but he could understand his friend's frustration, "There's a chance who ever owned the place might have moved, or perhaps they've just closed up shop."

"Then there's no magic here?" Shane looked probably more devastated than he should have been, but Maric couldn't help feeling bad for the young mage.

"We'll give it one more look." Maric smiled, trying to reassure him, "Surely there must be something we've missed."

Shane nodded, though he didn't look convinced as the two of them made their third and final lap around the southern district of Pravoka. Maric frowned. The innkeeper seemed to be knowledgeable of the area, surely she wouldn't try to lead them to a magic shop that didn't exist. Maric frowned, watching the buildings as they passed. There was a general store, a shop selling armor, a couple of market vendors, but nothing that made Maric look twice. Magic shops like his uncle's generally tried to bill themselves as something else, or else hide themselves away entirely, accepting patronage only from those who knew how to find them. Finding such a shop while uninvited was always a difficult task, if not impossible, unless...

Maric halted in his tracks, and came to a stop just outside the weapon shop. An assortment of staves and spears and a few sabers were hanging in the window, all displayed neatly beneath a welcoming sign. Shane stopped and turned to Maric, confused.

"Isn't this just a stonemason's shop?" Shane asked.

Maric shook his head, and pointed Shane in the direction of the house standing right next door. Unlike the weapon shop, there was no sign posted over the door, nor was there anything set out for display to attract wandering eyes. In fact, the place looked like nothing more than a residential house, but there scrawled on the door, the symbol was unmistakable. It was marked lightly into the wood, almost so faintly that you could mistake it for a natural flaw in the finish of the door, but Maric knew that sign. It was the exact same one that Rachen used to mark all of his scrolls and books, the same sigil that marked the residence of any magic seller, be it black or white.

"This is the place." Maric said, confident. Shane shifted, looking dubious.

"You're sure?" He tilted his head slightly, "It just looks like somebody's house."

"I'm sure." Maric nodded, and he took a step forward, raising his fist to knock.

He paused.

He hadn't realized it before, but this would be the first time he set foot into a magic shop since his uncle's burned to the ground. A bitter feeling wound itself in the pit of his stomach. There was a part of this that felt almost like a betrayal. Here he was miles away from Corneria, miles away from the dungeon where he'd left his uncle to breath his final breaths, carrying on as if the rest of his family's legacy and the remains of his uncle's life and livelihood hadn't been brought to a staggering halt by the folly of his own actions.

Maric took a breath. He needed to move forward. That's what a Warrior of Light would do. Wasn't it?

He knocked on the door tentatively. No one answered. For almost a minute Maric lingered next to the door before he raised his hand to knock again, louder this time.

"Maybe we should go back to the inn." Shane was whispering now, looking around nervously. Maric didn't move. Surely he couldn't have been wrong about the mark on the door. Though perhaps it was all just coincidence that it was there.

"Ye merciful gods, have you been taught nothing of how to be discrete?"

The door Maric stood next to flung itself open revealing a thin haired man with a sunken looking face. Maric jumped, his hand instinctively flying for his sword before pausing. He turned to the man, putting his hands up in apology.

"I'm sorry, sir!" Maric said at once, "We must have the wrong address, I..."

"No, no, you're in the right place." The man growled, the thick age lines in his face creasing with distaste as he looked Shane and Maric over, "I've been watching you two circle this place for nearly an hour now. It's astounding you didn't attract any attention, acting like a pair of outlaws out there. You're just asking to get snatched off the street."

Maric felt his face starting to grow hot. He'd elected to remove the hat and cape he'd been wearing, as Stephon suggested, but he supposed that wearing all red still was enough to attract attention, soiled and torn as his clothes now were.

"Come on now," The man waved them in, swiftly stealing a glance behind them, as if to check if they'd been followed, "Get yourselves inside, before someone sees you."

Maric looked down at Shane and nodded. The two shuffled inside, and Maric's face again started to feel hot. He couldn't believe he'd missed the sign on the door three times in a row. If Rachen were with them, he'd be laughing at him, or scolding him, one of the two.

"Well then, get on with it." the old man looked down upon Shane and Maric, his eyes sweeping along their figures, looking rather detached, "Tell me what you're here for. Spellbooks? Scrolls? Charms?"

Maric stiffened up. He looked the man over cautiously, watching him as he strode over to a nicely carved, oaken chair and sat down. He certainly didn't look much like a mage but he spoke of magic so plainly that Maric couldn't imagine he was anything else. Still, he lacked the ceremonial white robes of a white mage, or the hat and cloak of a black mage. Maric turned to Shane, looking down to his side, only to find that the boy had already bounded forward.

"Actually, sir, we were hoping we could have your help with this." Shane held out Matoya's map in front of him. To the naked eye, or to someone who hadn't followed them step for step on their journey thus far, the relic would have looked like a piece of blank parchment and nothing more.

The shopkeeper raised an eyebrow at Shane, and then glanced at Maric.

"Is he alright in the head, there?" he asked.

Maric's face felt redder still as he rushed forward, holding up his hands.

"What he ah... means is..." Maric cleared his throat, taking the blank map from his hands and unfurling it, "You see, we received this from an old witch named Matoya. She said it was supposed to be a map that would show us anywhere in the world we wished to see, but so far it's remained blank."

"Matoya, huh?" The old mage snorted, "That's a name I haven't heard in a long time. Where did you two say you were from?"

"We came here from Corneria." Maric replied, and beside him, he felt Shane wince. The boy looked up at him, a nervous expression on his face. Already Maric could hear him scolding, he knew they'd been told by Stephon to keep a low profile, but this had to be an exception. If there was anyone they could trust in a city like this, it was a fellow mage.

"Corneria?" the man barely batted an eye, though something in his expression changed that Maric couldn't quite place, "Came all that way, did you?"

"My uncle owned a magic shop there." Maric went on, "His name was Rachen Hollenzoller, I think he said he did business in Pravoka from time to time but..."

"Rachen Hollenzoller?" The man raised both eyebrows, looking from Maric to Shane a few times. At length he sighed, "I heard the news of what happened to him. Heard that the shop was found burned to the ground. Was all that true?"

A lump formed in Maric's throat that he couldn't quite force back down. He looked to the ground and nodded. A concerned look crossed the shopkeeper's face, as he glanced out the window again. He stood and walked over to close the blinds before returning to Maric and Shane with a hand outstretched.

"Well then, lets see that map of yours." he said at last in a hushed voice, "That's what you came here for, right?"

Shane nodded, and handed the blank scroll of parchment over. There was a strange look on his face as he did. Grave and nervous looking, as if the task required some solemnity that neither he nor Maric could muster up at the moment. There was a distant, searching expression on Shane's face, as if a question, or many questions, were sitting on the tip of his tongue, yet he didn't have the nerve to ask any of them. Maric just stood in silence, and waited, and watched.

At last the old shopkeeper sat back, and with a huff seemed to deflate himself, sinking back into his chair. An air of defeat hung over him.

"This is a powerful spell." he murmured, "But its one I can't unravel for now. There's a magic phrase that when spoken should activate the runes on this scroll, revealing a map of whatever land you happen to be in, wherever you are in the world. It's a remarkable enchantment, though, its to be expected of a witch like Matoya."

Maric nodded, peering over the man's shoulder. That he could tell so much about a piece of paper just from looking at it was remarkable in itself. Shane, however, looked considerably less impressed, his shoulders sinking a bit.

"So, you don't know how to activate it?" he asked. The disappointment was practically dripping from his words.

"Without knowing the words needed to trigger the spell on it, there's no way to activate the spell." the shopkeeper shook his head, "Sorry to disappoint."

He rolled the parchment gently in his hands and handed it back to Shane.

"You should handle it delicately." the old man said, "It is imbued with a powerful magic. If Matoya has given you something like this, she must have done so with good reason." he glanced back at Maric, a knowing spark in his eye, "You two didn't just come here to ask about a map, did you?"

Maric felt a tingle run up his spine. Of course, the magic. Suddenly he found he didn't know quite what to say. How did one ask for more powerful magic, and would a man like this be interested in selling off his tomes to strangers? The place looked much less like a magic shop, after all, and quite a lot more like a home. It felt almost wrong to ask.

After a moment of silence Shane spoke up again.

"We were wondering, actually, about ah... magic..." Shane looked down, mumbling a bit, "That is... if we could possibly learn some new magic."

"Oh?" a knowing grin crossed the man's face, "After some new spells, are you? And what was it you were hoping to accomplish?"

Maric looked down. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but saying them was hard. They were the Warriors of Light, but they were barely equipped to protect themselves, much less save the world, and even when compared to Stephon and Celeste their skills were lackluster at best. They had a few useful spells, fire and lightning and healing and sleep, but all of them were slow, and just barely managed to be more effective than whacking a monster with a well sharpened blade. Even more, Maric knew he needed to prove himself to Stephon, though how any magic ever could do that, he didn't know.

"I think I understand." The old shopkeeper smiled, slowly standing from his chair again, "You two are seeking power, something to aid you on whatever quest the old witch has you started down. I think I've got just the thing."

He smiled a knowing smile at the two as he retreated into the back room. Shane glanced at Maric, a worried look on his shrouded face.

"Maric, do you trust him?" Shane asked after a moment in a hushed voice.

Maric didn't respond. There were a hundred things that could go wrong, and he knew that well enough, but he wanted so badly to be able to trust somebody. He didn't know if this man was trust worthy, or if anyone in Pravoka was, but by the gods he wanted him to be. It felt like so long since Maric had met a single other person he felt he could trust, outside of the Warriors of Light. Was a friendly face really so much to ask?

At last the shopkeeper came back, an assortment of scrolls in his arms. He lay them on the table with a grunt and beckoned the two younger mages over with a wave of his hand.

"These spells should suit you two nicely." he said as he laid the scrolls out one by one on the table next to him, "Nothing too involved of course, but a good next step I think. Come, take a look."

The two mages approached the shopkeeper and peered down at the scrolls, hesitation swiftly giving way to intrigue. These were spells Maric had never seen before, though he was certain if he'd studied enough he would have found something similar in Rachen's shop somewhere. Four scrolls of parchment sat before them, all marked with a black seal that immediately made it clear they were intended as dark magic spells. There was a vague look of excitement in the shopkeeper's eyes as he unrolled the first of them.

"I noticed the cuffs of your sleeves have been singed quite heavily." The man spoke, addressing Shane, pointing to the edges of his robes that were by now quite tattered.

Shane pulled back, looking down, "Oh, I-I'm sorry."

"No, it's not for you to apologize for." the man chuckled, "It comes with practicing magic. What I noticed, though, was that you seem to have only mastered two of the three elemental magics."

"Only two?" Shane frowned, glancing at Maric as if for clarification. Maric only shrugged.

"You have learned the power of Fire and of Lightning." the mage went on, "This spell will thus open up to you the power of Ice. It can be a much more difficult power to master, but once you have learned it, it can be an indispensable tool."

"Ice magic..." Shane nodded, murmuring to himself. It certainly did seem a useful spell, especially if they were going to be out at sea. Being surrounded by water, they would need a spell that could be cast safely without threat of hitting the rest of them, like a lightning spell, or fizzling out like a fire spell.

"As for you, Rachen's kin, I noticed the blade at your belt."

Maric paled a little. After training with Stephon there was a part of him that wasn't quite ready to think about swordplay again for a long while. The wound to his pride felt too fresh, but he nodded anyway.

"I'm afraid there isn't much in the way of weaponry that I can offer you," the shopkeeper said, "But what I can offer you is a way to give your sword a little more bite." he unrolled the scroll, glancing at Maric, "This spell will sharpen the edge of any blade you cast it on, giving it the ability to cut through the toughest hide. I've heard told that a mage once tempered a blade so sharp it could cut through the scales of a dragon."

Maric nodded, somewhat entranced by the prospect. Surely having a blade that could cut through anything would make him a far more formidable foe than he'd been before. Perhaps it would even prove to Stephon that his swordplay was good enough that training would be unnecessary.

"How much for it?" Maric asked as he looked up. The shopkeeper looked taken aback.

"Why, I haven't even shown you the last of the spells." he said, looking uncertainly from Maric to Shane, "Are you sure you've decided?"

Maric flushed a bit, and Shane stepped forward.

"I'd like to see what that one is, sir." he said, pointing at the last of the scrolls on the table. The shopkeeper chuckled.

"I've saved the best for last I think." he said as he unfurled the last scroll, "This spell is a Slow spell. Time magic, as it stands. It will cause the movements of whoever it is cast on to slow to a crawl, allowing for a quick escape." he glanced at Maric, knowingly, "or a quick strike."

Maric nodded again. All of the spells sounded useful, and the way the shopkeeper spoke, he was almost absolutely certain he needed all of them. Surely the price of taking all three wouldn't be too high, would it?

"So, to answer your question." The shopkeeper said as he sat back down, "The cost for a scroll here comes to about 400 gil."

Maric felt his heart crumple a bit. And there it was.

"F-four hundred?" he stammered. After being drawn in by all these spells, he scarcely had the money to afford one. The weight of the realization was crushing.

"I know the price can be a bit steep." the shopkeeper laughed, "But you are getting spells of the very best quality I can offer. This is magic you'll be happy to have in a pinch, you know."

Maric slumped a bit, digging into his pockets, "I can really only afford one of them right now." he admitted, looking them over.

The ice spell would be the most practical, but in the predicament they were in it wouldn't do much to deter the pirates that a fire or lightning spell couldn't accomplish. The slow spell would likely be more effective, but the allure of the Temper spell was still there as well. And then there was Shane, the spells that worked best for him likely would be different from the ones that would best suit the young black mage.

"Shane, what do you think?" he asked the boy, looking over the gil in his coin purse, just a bit put out.

"I don't really have the money for any of them." Shane admitted, smiling nervously up at Maric, "I can always come back though when I do. I'll ask Sir- Ah..." he paused blinking, correcting himself before saying Stephon's surname aloud, "I'll ask about it. You should choose for yourself."

Maric nodded looking back over the scrolls. When he looked back up at the shopkeeper, his choice was already made.

"I think I'll take the Temper spell, then." he said, "I think I'll be able to put it to some good use."

The shopkeeper grinned and nodded, "I'm sure you will lad. Rachen wouldn't raise a pushover, I can tell from looking at you."

Maric winced. He wasn't sure if he should say anything about his uncle's fate or not, but from the way the old man spoke he was almost certain he knew already. He thanked the man as he payed for the scroll and walked out with Shane in tow. By the time they exited the shop, it was already starting to grow dark.

"We should find Celeste and ah... Stephon." Shane spoke in a hushed tone as he looked at the sky, "I wonder if they're looking for us."

Maric didn't reply. The last he'd seen of Celeste and Stephon they were processing out of the Inn, arm in arm, followed by a gaggle of well-dressed women that Maric had never seen before in his life. It was an odd sight, to say the least, and one he'd nearly forgotten about.

"I'm not sure, Shane." Maric replied, "Let's get back to the Inn, I think. They'll find us there when they're ready."

At least, Maric hoped they would.

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As Stephon looked up at the wide double doors of the Phoenix family manor there was only one word that sprung to his mind. Tacky.

It wasn't any slight against the lower classes. In the grand scheme of things, there were precious few in the kingdom of Corneria who could be considered much higher class than the Carris family. The royal family, and a few other high nobles could be counted among those few, but no others that Stephon could readily identify. Every member of every caste served a function, the knights protected, the merchants and guilds men sold, and traveled, the journeymen crafted and so on, even down to the poorest of castes. But if there was one thing Stephon couldn't stand, it was when people who weren't nobility tried to throw around their wealth and act as if they were.

He couldn't quite place what put him off about the Phoenixes, but whatever it was, it made his skin crawl. Wanting to have the chance to better oneself was one thing. All the clothing, the perfumes, the manicured gardens, all that was harmless, just a show of pride and nothing more. It was in the way they spoke, the way they used whatever words they thought would make them sound more sophisticated and worldly, even though no one Stephon had ever met at Castle Corneria or otherwise spoke that way. It was in the way they turned their noses up as they walked by their servants, the subtle hints of elitism in their words as they prattled on after Celeste, cooing over her. Just the look on her face gave everything away. Their attempts to act elite made it ever more obvious to Stephon that these people were not the high class socialites that they were so desperate to make it seem they were.

They were frauds, and Stephon had walked into a nest of them. They must have been pleased, for the energy they exuded upon reaching the estate was almost tangible. Stephon had taken to simply smiling placidly as Celeste's mother as she spoke, using a high, warbling voice that was clearly not her own. As she spoke, Stephon couldn't help but notice how much powder she'd caked upon her face, and couldn't help but wonder if this was her way of trying to mimic the fair, light complexion of Lady Sara and Queen Jayne. Something about that made Stephon feel vaguely sickened.

"You can't imagine how grateful I am that you've brought our darling Celeste back to us." Mrs. Phoenix gushed as she hung off Stephon's arm, "The gods surely have blessed us, not to mention the two of you, bringing you all the way to Pravoka."

"The road was a treacherous one, to be sure." Stephon replied, keeping a cool smile on his face, "But no journey is too long or difficult if it's for my dear Celeste."

He wasn't sure, but he could swear he saw Celeste cringe as he spoke. Mrs. Phoenix just beamed at him.

"How ever did you two meet each other?" Mrs. Phoenix asked, her face awash with admiration. Stephon was almost sure he saw Celeste miss a step.

He paused for a moment. Neither of them had discussed a probably story yet for their meeting, and there was very little Stephon knew about Celeste's time in Corneria. He couldn't risk saying something that her parents or sister would know was untrue. Their entire plan could go up in smoke in an instant.

Stephon bit his lip. He was fumbling, but he couldn't let Celeste down. The more he hesitated the more suspicious he looked, so he said the first thing that came to mind.

"Why, it was fate that brought us together." He flashed a winning smile, trying to hide the fact that his heart was hammering, "We were taken with each other at first sight. I'm sure it was the fates that brought us together."

Mrs. Phoenix's face lit up, seeming enthralled with his answer. He breathed a sigh of relief. He was out of the fire for now, but he hoped he would have time to speak with Celeste about coming up with a plausible backstory for the two of them. For now, they appeared to be safe.

"That's so beautiful," Mrs. Phoenix sighed, clinging to Stephon's arm, "I'm so happy for the two of you. At last you'll be able to spend many a happy day together, here with us."

The color drained from Stephon's face again. Here with us? That certainly wasn't in the plan. Whether Mrs. Phoenix knew it or not was obviously another story, and one that Stephon hoped would be resolved soon.

He couldn't believe how long the courtyard suddenly felt as they approached the entrance to the estate.

"Come now, mother, we need to give our guest some space." Percy intervened at last. Stephon felt a wave of relief.

"Right, of course." Mrs. Phoenix said at once, leading Stephon to the door, "Surely you must be exhausted. A hot bath and some clean clothes will surely do you and Celeste wonders. I've already started preparations to have a lovely meal later."

Stephon nodded, trying to retain his smile as he looked to Celeste and Percy for help. Were they not only here to talk to Celeste's father about procuring a ship? The more they spoke, the more Stephon was realizing that getting out of Pravoka quickly was going to be an impossibility. Neither Percy nor Celeste's doubtful looks back at him provided him any relief.

"Many thanks, my good lady, it's such a pleasure to receive such a hospitable welcome." He took Mrs. Phoenix's hand gently, "But if I may ask, I was hoping we would be able to speak to your Lord husband. Is he available to speak with us?"

"Father has been rather ill of late, as I'd informed you earlier." Percy replied hastily. There was a touch of panic in his eyes as he spoke, "There will be time for him to meet with you after you've dressed yourselves and had something to eat, though, if you were willing to spend the night..."

"That won't be necessary!" Celeste spoke up for the first time since she'd seen her mother and sister, her face suddenly going completely red. She looked around, a sudden meek look on her face.

"I-.I mean..." she stammered, looking down and knocking her knees together in a manner that looked more befitting of a scared little girl, than the confident, coy thief Stephon had come to know.

"We've unfortunately already taken up a room at the inn." Stephon finished for her, swiftly intervening, "We were traveling with some companions and we'll need to be meeting back with them before the night is up."

"Why, bring them here!" Mrs. Phoenix exclaimed, "We've certainly got enough room to house a few extra guests."

The panic in Celeste's eyes only grew. Stephon just drew a breath.

"We'll have to discuss it with them, later." he said, trying his best not to sound dismissive, "For now, why don't we get ourselves inside. I'm very much looking forward to sharing a meal with you all."

With that Mrs. Phoenix shuffled inside, giggling to herself all the way like a young girl. Celeste and her two siblings followed suit, leading Stephon inside and guiding the two of them down the halls of the estate. The inside was just as Stephon feared it would be, just as gaudy and overdecorated as the outside appeared to be. The walls were clad with a myriad of paintings and artifacts, none of which seemed to serve any purpose other than to hide as much of the walls as they could and affront the senses with as many colors as possible. He fought to hold back his distaste.

"Why don't the two of you follow me." Percy spoke at last, motioning them swiftly down the hall, away from his mother and Clarice, the older sister. As soon as they were out of earshot he started speaking again more quietly, and more frantically.

"We'll get you two cleaned up, and clean clothes to wear so that you're presentable for father." he said as he hurried the two of them down the halls, "Hopefully this will all go quickly and we'll have you out of here as soon as possible. I'm sorry about mother, I didn't realize she would be so forceful."

"Oh, you're surprised?" the venom in Celeste's voice almost startled Stephon again. She glared up at her brother with a vitriol Stephon could almost compare to the anger he'd seen Talon direct at him. Defiant, humiliated, and above all, wrathful, "What exactly were you expecting from this Percy? This is causing more trouble than it's worth."

"It's the best I can do for you, Celeste." Percy sighed, exasperated, "Just keep playing along and try to act natural. This will be over in just a few short hours, and you'll be free for the rest of your life. Doesn't that sound worth it to you?"

Celeste growled something that was probably rather vulgar under her breath but said nothing more, and looked down again at her feet.

"You're really doing well, both of you." Percy went on, his voice growing hushed as he scoured the halls, "Just keep acting as you are, and I think father will be happy to give you what ever you need."

At last Percy came to a halt beside a wooden door.

"The wash basin should already have some water in it. You can heat it if you like, but really just washing off the dirt should suffice." Percy instructed, looking around, "Wait here for a moment. I'll get you two some clothes."

Stephon watched as Percy shuffled off down the hall, and at last breathed a sigh of relief. At last he could relax himself, at least for a moment. One hurdle of their journey was cleared, and at last things were starting to look up. It was almost enough to make him excited. They had a boat, or they would have one presently. They'd made it into Pravoka without being immediately recognized or apprehended. Even just that much was enough to make Stephon ecstatic, but now they had shelter, food, and transport to Elfheim all provided for them. All they had to do now was be as convincing as they could in front of Celeste's father.

"Alright then." Stephon turned to Celeste, "Let's plan this out. We need a convincing way to explain how we met. I was thinking..."

Before he could continue he caught Celeste's eyes, and he stopped. She said nothing, and just as silent as she'd been in the courtyard, but now there was a distant, far away look in her eyes. She looked nervous, unsettled, and she held her hands clenched against her chest in a tight ball. Stephon frowned.

"Celeste?"

Celeste looked up and nearly jumped, looking startled for a moment. She stared at Stephon, looking uncertain as to whether she should speak for a moment or two before replying.

"Oh... I... sorry." She settled on an apology, looking back down at her clenched hands and offered nothing more. Stephon's shoulders slackened.

"Are you... not feeling well?" Stephon asked, looking Celeste over. The thief girl still said nothing, her eyes cast to the ground.

An uneasy feeling crept over Stephon. Clearly he was going to have to handle this alone. It was within his ability, of course, but Celeste had proved time and time again to be better at thinking on her feet. Now, however, was a different story. Gone was the Celeste who smiled as she fabricated stories of a false past out of thin air, and could tell when Stephon was lying just by listening to the rising of his voice. What startled Stephon the most, was that for the life of him, he couldn't tell where she'd gone, or what had happened to her, but more and more her absence was starting to weigh on him.

Percy came back more swiftly than Stephon would have liked. In one arm he held a fine, if not a bit cheap looking, silk shirt and neatly tailored pants. Under his other arm was a clean, white, floral patterned dress that looked tailor fitted to fit Celeste perfectly. The red was beginning to creep into her face again.

"These should fit you two nicely" Percy said, glancing at Stephon, "It might be a touch tight, but this was the best I could come up with."

Stephon nodded, and mustered up a smile again, "Many thanks." he said, with a bow of his head, "I'm sure it will all be..."

Before Stephon had even finished talking Celeste burst forward, grabbed the dress and slammed the door to the washroom so hard it seemed to shake the walls of the estate. Stephon paled a little, and glanced back at Percy.

"I'm sorry for this." Percy sighed, stepping back, "She can be like this. You know Celeste. She'll get over herself in a few minutes. Always so dramatic."

Stephon shifted, again hit with a wave of discomfort. This certainly was not the Celeste he knew. Celeste was never this distant or detached or cold, even when she thought that he and the other Light Warriors were going to try to kill her in her sleep. Back then she was distrustful yes, sometimes a bit unpleasant, but even when she was upset she was never quiet, never like this.

"You're not worried about her?" Stephon asked.

"She's fine. She's always been like this." Percy replied, a dismissive note in his voice, "Like I said, you should just let her go. She'll get over herself soon enough."

With that he handed Stephon the bundle of clothes and slowly walked away, leaving Stephon once again alone. It was Percy's words that unsettled him more than anything else. He knew that the situation he'd put Celeste in was at the very least an uncomfortable one, if not closer to being absolutely mortifying. Yet instead of sympathy, there was casual dismissal, something Stephon was certain Celeste wouldn't allow anyone to get away with otherwise.

He sighed as Percy walked away, and leaned heavily against the wall next to the washroom door. Even if Celeste hadn't been poisoned by her siblings, Stephon was beginning to understand why she'd been so reluctant to return here. There was no outright hostility, just tacky decorating and flippant dismissals and little else. To live here would surely be draining, but to stay for a night sounded relatively pain free.

Now, to craft a convincing story of our meeting. Stephon thought, lacing his fingers together as he mused, Perhaps we met in a crowded bar. Or... no, I don't want to imply a history of carousing. Perhaps then we met on the streets. She was a fair maiden, selling flowers for a gil each and I... no perhaps that sounds too cliché.

Stephon sighed. Spinning stories was never his forte, and his lack of skill was growing ever more apparent as he searched for an explanation, even a simple one, that could detail his supposed courtship with Celeste. It was frustrating to admit he had nothing, but even more frustrating knowing that Celeste herself could have thought up a tale a hundred times more convincing than his if she wasn't so preoccupied by her family's vanity. For Stephon it was an exhausting task, and one that, to him, couldn't be over soon enough.

"So, I suppose it's been a romantic few days that you two have spent together, isn't that right?"

A slow, biting feminine voice broke Stephon from his muse. He'd been so invested in attempting to weave together a tale that he hadn't noticed Celeste's older sister, Clarice, approaching him from down the hall. A scrutinizing look sat upon her face as she looked Stephon up and down, but there was a smugness in her stance that almost unnerved him. She was still wearing that gaudy dress, and on her hands sat an assortment of large, gaudy rings laid with gemstones that couldn't possibly be real. The same went for the gems worn around her neck that dangled on dangerously thin looking chains.

"Why, any time I've spent with my Celeste is romantic." Stephon replied, trying to swiftly hide his surprise by straightening himself up and returning to his easy smile, "It was a long trip here, but I'm certain it will be all worth it."

Clarice nodded with a strange expression, almost like a sneer, crossing her face.

"Worth it, huh?" she echoed, "Do you mean Celeste, or something else?"

Stephon paused, and was sure for a moment that all the color had left his face. He looked Clarice over. Surely she didn't recognize him as the now estranged son of the Carris family, did she? Could she? He didn't know how far Talon had spread his search, was it too paranoid to think that he could have planted spies even among Celeste's family? Probably, but it didn't stop him.

"Let's not pretend we don't know what you're up to." Clarice went on, slowly making her way towards Stephon. She was only a few inches taller than Celeste, but her poise was intimidating. Stephon took a step backwards, and found himself pressed against the wall, "You know you're too good for her. You're too good to be true, perfect mannerisms, perfect poise, perfect body." She leaned in closer, far too close for Stephon's comfort, "You're in this for something else, aren't you? You would never settle like this otherwise."

Stephon immediately felt his breath return, but it wasn't relief that filled him now. Now, instead, it was revulsion.

"What do you mean, settle?" Stephon asked, pulling away from Clarice, "I'm not 'settling' for Celeste, we-"

"You don't have to be so evasive about it." Clarice's voice sounded almost like a purr as she put a hand on Stephon's shoulder, "I can see it on your face, you're not in love with her. So what is this about. Inheritance? Lost a bet?"

"I would prefer to keep Celeste and my affairs between us, thank you." Stephon growled, shuffling Clarice's hand off his shoulder. He stepped away, but she followed him smoothly, "You can keep your accusations to yourself."

Clarice chuckled, raising an eyebrow, "You're rather bold when you're not being watched, aren't you?" she asked, grinning up at him. " Why don't you relax? If you could bare to look at a hag like my sister for so long, you surely can't be too averse to something a little... easier on the eyes."

She reached up to run a hand along Stephon's face, but he quickly caught her by the wrist, a stern glare crossing his face.

"You would do well to not speak so crassly about my fiancée in front of me." Stephon growled, a warning tone rising in his voice, though he spoke in little more than a whisper, "This behavior will not be tolerated, and if you continue, I will put an end to it myself."

"You're rather rough, aren't you?" A chuckle sprang from Clarice, "Don't you worry, I won't tell. But I doubt father is going to be very happy with you as a suitor if he comes down to find me bruised. You ought to take some care with how you handle your ladies."

Stephon gritted his teeth. This wasn't the time to be getting on anyone's bad side, but to be completely honest he was swiftly reaching his boiling point with this family. Hopefully this wouldn't take much longer. He let go of Clarice's hand, begrudgingly and looked away as she moved in towards him again.

"It would be rather unfortunate if Celeste or my father were to find you in a compromising position anyway." Clarice went on, "We wouldn't want anyone talking, now would we?"

Stephon didn't look up. He found himself now rather trapped, worse, betraying Celeste here would also mean betraying lady Sara back in Corneria. That was something he simply couldn't stand for. He closed his eyes, hoping to the gods that something, someone would come through for him.

That was when the door swung open, and there she was, and for a second Stephon forgot that he was supposed to be putting on an act. Celeste stepped out of the washroom, water still dripping from her hair that had been pulled into ringlets by the moisture. The dress she wore now was white, and sparkled with rhinestones. It looked like Celeste was wearing jewels, and it fit her figure almost perfectly. In any other case Stephon would have thought it just as tacky and needlessly showy as the rest of the Phoenix family, but on Celeste, it shone bright. For a moment, Stephon forgot himself.

"Clarice, what are you doing?" Celeste demanded, her face going red as she looked between her sister and Stephon, "Leave him alone. He doesn't want anything to do with you."

"Do relax, sister. We were just talking." Clarice laughed, pulling away from Stephon. She smiled coyly at Stephon as she stepped back, "I was just making sure that he wasn't going to treat you poorly, but it seems as though you've managed quite a catch, haven't you, Celeste dear?"

A red tinge lit up Celeste's cheeks as she looked away, quiet again. Stephon said nothing, trying to avoid eye contact with the older sister a she walked away.

"Oh, and Celeste, dear. Father will be joining us for dinner, so do try to behave yourself." Clarice grinned to herself as she walked away.

Slowly Stephon let his shoulders drop. He glanced over at Celeste, who still looked red faced and tense. Her hands were balled into fists, and trembling a bit as Stephon approached her.

"Celeste?"

Celeste turned quickly, her movements were quick, and jerky, almost like a panic response, but the fear in her eyes faded just a bit when she met Stephon's gaze. Maybe she was relieved that he was just as uncomfortable as she appeared to be. The two exchanged few words as Celeste looked down at her feet again.

"You should get ready." she spoke in a quiet, almost timid voice. "Father will be waiting for us."

Stephon nodded, and watched as Celeste made her way down the hall, the clicking of her new black heeled shoes echoing through the corridors as she went. Stephon turned and said nothing.

The sooner he and Celeste were out of here, the better off they would be.

The Warriors of Light now must face their most terrifying adversary yet. Dinner with the family! The horror! How will they fare? Look out for the next chapter to find out.

As always if you liked this chapter leave a review down at the bottom to make a Pichu very happy!

-Surfingpichu over and out!