Within these walls…

((Re-posting here to continue..))
[Setting] Takes place 4 day after Lost Boy Mission
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It was just another day in the keep. The Lord was out, the Lady was away as well. The run in with Cyda was a pleasant one, even with all the swooning fan girls for the newly hired singer of the lounge. The conversation would have continued if Cyda didn’t have to leave.

Walking the halls of the keep, the servants are busying themselves with their tasks. Easy enough to run into were one to walk the halls. Oren may or may not be in as he was no longer grounded, and was fine so long as he stay out of trouble.

As Aramina walks the west wing halls, there is this empty near hollow feel to them. A longing to be filled once more, to be whole again. This emotion seems to come from everywhere in the hall, but not from the keep herself.

Mina was glad to be home. She disliked the station, nothing to touch outside but empty space. She went because Havoc was there and she enjoyed every scrap of time she could with him. It helped distract her from her missing children. So to, did walking the corridors, checking everything just as she always had. Lord and Lady were absent and so she felt more of a need to continue in her routine, to keep everything right for them. It just made sense to Mina to do so.

She always ended in the western part of the Keep, beginning in the northern area. No particular reason why; it was just how she had always done it. And once she had gotten there, a shiver ran over her skin at the feeling. What with all of the current events and happenings, this had been the first time since Mozafirium had put her back together that she had really been in here. Even when she had gotten close, her mind was always elsewhere and on other people like Morena. Right now, Mina's mind was a blank slate, interested only in keeping busy so that she Felt the need.

Immediately, the Sarella wenda scanned her immediate vicinity, recognizing the sensation as not coming from a person. The construct servants never felt like this, programmed for their tasks and knowing nothing else. As far as she knew, there was no one else here to initiate such a lonely desire. And it did not have the solid, smooth tone of the Keep itself, a near constant, reassuring hum in her mind that spoke of it's sleeping sentience.

Turning slowly, Mina took a slow, testing breath, thinning her mental shields as she did to try to Feel where the emotion was strongest. But it was coming from everywhere around her. Closing her eyes, she relaxed, trying now to see if there was any imagery that came with the hollowness and longing. Maybe she could fix it? Or at least ask her Hamak why the west wing seemed to be in mourning.

As the mental shields thinned, the hollow feeling grew clear, stronger. As though the shields had kept out most of the feeling, this feeling was weak, however the sad extreme emotion were still the strongest. Thus why it was felt even though it is weakening.

Turning slowing as Aramina did, seeking any images that came with the feeling. She would find them. A flash of bright of solid eyes, a short body runs passed farther down the western wing. A young girl being chased by a younger boy. Echoing sounds of the children's laughter, offset to the imagery. The small boy holding a toy sword while wearing a thin metal helm. The older sister? Yes indeed they did look alike. Her doll like face smiled and laughed. Then she looks up right at Aramina, kind are these eyes that the Banded has seen before, however they were not kind the last time. The boy follows her eyes and looks up as well. Their gaze suggests that they are listening to someone speak to them. Lips moving as they say something in reply. The small boy beats his chest with one hand, proclaiming something, then points to the doll that the girl carries. The brave Knight to save the Princess from an evil witch? Petticoat ruffles flare as the girl takes a curitie. No sound follows, whatever they said is lost.

From the edge there is someone else there, just barely in the scene. Taller and older, fair blonde hair. Before more can be show, the images are shattered. Whom ever is showing these wishes to not look upon them anymore. The weaken hollow feeling turns to sorrow, standing right behind Aramina.

Could these be memories from the Keep? Perhaps from her Hamak, or the Lady Kathearana herself? Someone else? The Touch was so weak that Mina had to drop her shields entirely, even the curtain she kept up to prevent the static that she used to project due to the misplaced Soul Sliver. Mina was wide open and entirely vulnerable. But she'd never felt the need but for once to be afraid here, in her Hamak's home.

As she turned, she smiled. Children! Smile turning melancholy for a mere breath of a moment as she remembered her twins, Mina moved to crouch before the little girl. Like a life sized porcelain doll, this one and the boy with bright eyes, mesmerizing. And then her smile vanished altogether as she recognized those eyes. From both children, and Mina backed up, wondering what sort of sick joke this was. Pain lanced through her, emotional entirely, but still felt as she watched the two children engage in their game. These children... that child, that girl was the younger version of the Broken Doll, the evil creature who had stolen her children right from her womb.

As Mina tried to compose herself, she glanced to the side, seeing naught but a tall body frame, with bright blonde hair. However, when she tried to focus upon this third personage, the images shattered and melted. The Sarellawenda nearly choked on her own emotion, and feeling something behind her, spun to face it, tears in her green-flecked gray eyes.

The hallway seemed darker than it had been before. Foreboding and oppressive, however in the keep would not willing let anyone in that meant harm. Not after what had happened. Hollowness, sorrow, despair, and longing emanated for a place that she spun to look. Weak and fading. A dulled image stood near her, but far enough way to not be next to the Sarellawenda.

A figure forms from the mass of gloom. Willowy and transparent, liken to a fine mist rolling in off the sea. The visage was of a beautiful lady with a relatively small bosom and high cheekbones. Her face was more rounded though on the edges, her eyes have the darkened circles under them. They are the intensity of any Lingspelien. Silver of hue; no pupil, iris, or sclera. However they are down cast, streaks that run along the sides of her face give tale of her sorrow. Dark blond hair that curls under at the ends.

As the feelings of emotions fade, so does she. Her brows creased, she knows she is fading. One hand rests on the front of her neck, as though she is rubbing a sore throat. The hall is still, no sound save Aramina’s breathing. There is a slight smell here as well, the faint scent of basil.

Mina backed up, hands to her mouth as she saw the weakened image before her, swearing one of the more colorful words she learned from listening to Havoc, stifled behind her fist. She looked around; the Keep was not responding as if this was a threat, and Mina knew full well what the Keep would do, if it perceived a threat to one of the Household members. So this apparition was not dangerous.

No, not dangerous. Sad. So intensely sad that Mina nearly burst into tears. " Oh, Gods, your children, weren't they? I know you. " The boy, the child she recognized as a young, frighteningly young Captain Actyon. The doll-like child could only be his sister. She knew this story and briefly wondered if she was going to be sick.

" My Lady? " Mina could Feel the apparition losing strength, Feel the emotions draining away and she reached out to the fellow mother. " No, stay, hold on to me!" With both hands and Mind, Mina Reached, seeking something to hold on to. If she could catch Crysheana, hold her until Mina could find help... She would Call for Havoc. Her Hamak would know what to do.

Indeed there was no threat from this image. The keep knew who this was, perhaps that is why she had managed to appear here, in this lonely hallway, without others about to wreak chaos on what energy she had managed to regain. If Aramina had not lowed her shielding completely, she wouldn’t have been able to see her. As everyone in this place seems to always have shields up, making herself known was impossible till this point.

At first glance the young boy could have been Acyton, however his face was not quite right. His older brother, from another father, Justus and Tyana were only half siblings to the Captain. However the family link was there, via Crysheana, the three looked similar.

Her eyes stayed downcast all the while Aramina near jump and hiding the sware. Her only moment was to rub her neck, small shivers from her chest and arms. Sorrow ever present in her form. Her eyes narrowed at the wenda’s words. Head rising slowly, those sorrow filled eyes looking into the red head’s. Confusion and surprise, slow reactions as though she was not expecting to be spoken to. Energy still faded away from her, staying visible like this was drawing most of what she had away. The hand that was not on her neck reached out, fingers splayed in the hopes that Aramina could touch her, hold on to her, help her….save her.

When hands connected, for the wenda it would be like trying to hold onto bubbled foam. Squeeze too hard and her hand cracks while breaking apart. Too soft and she might slip away. With the aid of casting out her mind, Mina would hook onto what energy was there, keeping the fast fading woman held there….for now. The thought of her favorite food would come to mind, the exact thing that the Banded needed.

As the event of her movement was sometime ago and with how weak she is, it would be hard to say how long she had been here. She could have been here the whole time, seeking someone that could hear her. Or maybe this was the first time she had the strength to tap on someone’s mind to get their attention. Why was it the Wenda? She was there in the west wing when Crysheana went tapping. Her empathic ability gave her the edge in feeling her way to the near lost one.

Her fingers curl around Mina’s hand, cracking and breaking more. She too does not want to fade away, she pulls the other hand away from her neck to grab the hands. There is a void in her neck, clean cut all the way through. Realizing she has show the cut line off, Crysheana ducks her head, tucking in her chin to hide it. She has such sorrow for what has happened, helplessness as she could not do anything. Still she can not do anything accept fade away. However with the Wenda here, there is a spark of hope. Maybe she can come back, the longing to not feel hollow anymore. To be whole once more.

Honey cakes, that sweet treat that was the best with tea. The way that she made it. Crysheana nodded a slow and pained nod. More cracks appeared, causing the void to grow as small pieces broke away like dried unfired clay. The kitchens were elsewhere, if she could make it there, cooking would be difficult to say the least. Lifting her head enough to look into the other woman’s eyes, the intense silver were replaced. Emerald green eyes stare back at Mina. Pressing her forefinger and thumb together, twitching in short strokes.

Mina's stomach tried to rebel when she saw the damage to Crysheana's throat but she held it back by force of will. She wanted to grip the other woman's hand tighter, but it seemed to make it worse. And when she eased up her grip, it felt like Crysheana's hand was slipping through her own like sand. " Oh god, I'm sorry, I'm losing you. Tell me how to fix it, Dendaya. I don't know how. "

Mina brought her other hand up, grasping at but never touching the phantom's hand, unsure what the dual contact would do. Feeling the hope from the other, she grasped at it instead, heightened it, made it stronger, anything to augment the spirit's strength, to make her last longer.

And then those green eyes, familiar eyes, fastened upon her gray ones, bringing beweilderment and then upon more intense focus, clarity. " A pen! One moment, my Lady, I can get you a pen. "

Mina closed her eyes, relaxing through years of long practice to find the pen that resided in the cup on her Havoc's desk. Smaller things were harder to move than the larger things so it took a higher degree of focus before she could bring the slender thing to her. And even then, it didn't go exactly where she wanted, clattering to the floor beside Crysheana's feet.

There was only space in the void on her neck, no blood oozed from it. It had been the place where The Havoc’s sword saw it fit to dispatch her head from her body. Brittle and cracking, her form was coming apart. It seemed that when she stood still that she was fine, it was only moving that hurt her. The green eyes gave the empath an apologetic smile.

Feeding the ember of hope that was burning inside the dying lady, she felt the effects. The smaller cracks sealed up, the fading edges filled out, and she looked more alive albeit a little. Feeling Mina’s held back retching by the sight of her neck, her left hand went back up to cover and hold it together. As if holding it kept it from braking more.

As the Wenda closed her eyes to summon a pen to her, Crysheana’s eyes flashed. Like the sheen of light rolling over curved glass, bright silver eyes gleamed for a moment as she watched to transportation of the pen. Waxing back into her verdant eyes as the pen fell to the ground. Bending down right now would hurt and break her apart to the point of becoming dust at the first strong breath. Giving Mina a ‘good try’ smile, looking down at the pen as it rolled to rest next to her foot.

Eyes following the path of the pen, to the leg of an end table, to the fresh cut flowers with in the vase. The servants were good about keeping the flower fresh, some tables had potted plants. However as of late, many of the plants died much quicker than they should have, even some of the potted one. Keeping hold of Aramina’s hand she used the other to point at the flowers, normally she would not have to do this but using her hand made focusing right then easier. Grabbing ahold of the threads that made of the life energy of the flowers, she slowly pulled them from the rose stems, adsorbing them as she did. The roses became withered while the withered form of Crysheana gained more life. Enough to define her edges, a better hold upon Mina’s hand.

Though it would hurt, she would start to bend down to take up the pen if her current company did not beat her to it. Once she had the pen, either by picking it up or it being handed to her, she switched which hand she held onto Aramina, in a tried yet elegant script she would write a word upon the back of her hand. Garden?

Mina silently cursed herself. She was better at teleportation than that. It was nerves and shock and panic that this Lady was here and breaking apart that she lapsed control. Once the pen was in the room, Mina scrambled for it, waving Crysheana to remain still so as not to tax herself while she picked up the thing.

Finally snagging the implement of which to make marks, Mina held it aloft in triumph before offering it to the Lady. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the flowers in the vase wilt and wither. Yes still the Keep did not respond as if this apparition was a danger as the Lady took the energy, the life force of the plants into herself. Crysheana needed life to sustain life. Why had no one noticed this prior to Aramina? But it was as real now their hands clasping eachother, growing stronger.

" Garden? You want to go to the garden?" Red hair flying, Mina nodded and took a step toward the the doors to get to the garden, afraid to tug the brittle hand she held. Or did the Lady mean she wished Mina to bring plants to her, so she could absorb their life into her own. Even then, would it be faster for Crysheana to take some of Mina's own life force, burning hot from the Fyre to make it that far?

Crysheana chuckled as Mina waved her off from bending over, or she would have if she could make a sound. Even the brittleness of her form was silent. No sound of moving fabric, the sliding of hair over her shoulder, or footstep was heard from her. She truly was in all respects a phantasm. She understood the missed mark on the pen as the Wenda was so surprised to find her. She was hopeful that she could come back, even started to feel happy that someone could see her. She had been alone as this time, no one save the dying plants and the keep knew she was here.

Looking to the vase again, she rolled her hand closed. Drawing to her the atoms of the water, if it was a clear vase then Mina would see this, else the missing water would go unnoticed. She needed life to come back, she had been hanging on to the edges of life in this world for so long. Eyes cast their gaze down the hallway to the doors, there was more fresh cut flowers down there, if she could get close enough she could pull more. Unless the Wenda offered her own life to the Lady, Crysheana would not take it. Water and plants that were going to die anyways were fine by her to take what they had to offer.

Feeling the tug on her hand, it did not break so what she took gave her form more resistance while moving, however her movements were still pained and slow. She would follow where Aramina would lead her, as she walked her eyes changed color again to the haunting silver gleam. With the pen she wrote on her hand again. ‘Yes’

Mina shivered all over, feeling how fragile the Lady was. It would take one wrong move to shatter her into nothingness. She was so gentle, as yet unwilling to take anything from the wenda that Mina despaired. How to get her to the garden? Mina was afraid to tug on the woman, to loose her grip to find more for Her to use as energy. But the writing was clear. Yes. She wished to go to the garden. And Mina was the way. If they could hold on to each other, then maybe it could be done.

The Sarella wenda was near tears. Here was another love of her beloved Hamak and whereas she could not save her twin children by her beloved, perhaps she could save the woman that he had loved before her. With a sob, she turned to Crysheana.

" I can't get you to the garden. You will break apart forever. Can you draw from me, my Fyre burns hot, until I can get you to the gardens?"

Unbeknownst to Aramina, the soul sliver now put into it's proper place, twinned and twined with her own soul gave her a well of power that even she had not known of. Crysheana, if she could, could draw upon that untapped well. Not to become whole, for there was not enough lest she take the wenda's life, but perhaps enough to get her to the garden she wished to go and become whole.

Had Mina not given her hope to hold onto, the Lady would have faded away. With renewed hope and the life as she taken from the vase, she would be able to stand there for a moment without the need to cling the the Sarellawenda’s hand. Pen in hand, she patted the one holding hers, to let Mina know that she could stand and wait.

Pointing to one of the vases, trying to ask for her to bring it to her. However she did not get far in her request. Her current savior had offered her own life, even if it was only a little, this stunned her. Concern that she might take too much, or could not take any played through her. It was Fyre after all, though she was the best cook anyone had the pleasure to taste a dish from, her forte was herb, water, and the art of cooking. She did know some workings of fyre, as it too was part of her art. Reaching out with both hands towards Aramina, fingers twist the threads of air to find that power that lay within. Before she would start, she gave her a thankful and apologetic nod, she did not know if this would hurt.

Like stoking the flame of a cooking fire, she pulled of the threads, little by little life energy would be pulled from the Wenda to the Lady. She would only pull as much as it would take Mina to become light headed, not enough to do damage or heal her, just enough so she could move without the fear of breaking. All the small crack in her form were gone, save the void in her neck.

It was hard. Not hard as in difficult, but hard as in strain upon her psyche. How was she keeping the threads of life to Crysheana? How could she, a simple wenda, born of two worlds, ever expect to save this Lady from beyond? It was too much and she felt herself fade even as the Lady took enough from her to stay stable. To stay in this world and hang on to her hand, to let her know that she was there!

The Lady took what she could to not drain the wenda entirely and she struggled to move, one step after another. Mina had to get her to the garden. She had energy to spare, but would Chysheana know how to use it? It was there, bubbling below the surface of the wenda, always there, but was it of use. Mina gave it willingly. It was her nature.


The world seemed to tilt to the right and Mina moaned, trying to stifle the sound. She could handle the Havoc, how could she not handle Crysheana? In her unique naivete, she pulled the Lady, trying to bring her to the garden as requested.

The answer to the Wenda’s question, hope. Without hope the course is only idle, Without anyone to hear her Crysheana was losing hope. Her threads unwinding themselves in the despair of being lost. She had been losing the will to exist, till Aramina lowered her shields. Now there was a focus, her goal in better sight than it had been, once more she had the will to fight.

Crysheana saw the untamed fyre the lay under the surface, she dare not touch it. Wild was that flame, in her current state, she dare not try it. She had enough to reach the two vases she had seen down the hallway. She would follow the Wenda’s pull, her hand stayed whole. She could give some back to Mina, by taking what was offered by the flowers for her.

She pulled back on Mina when the woman moaned. Worry that she might have taken too much for her. She could not speak to ask, however stopping their forward movement would be enough to ask. She would linger at the stop only for a moment to see her reply, then she would walk again. Still slow but not as pained, she wasn’t breaking apart now so she was not feeling every jagged piece of clay snap and crack.

It was weird. It was different. It wasn't the same as the gestalt between Telepaths to combine their abilities into a cohesive, stronger whole. Her energy was not doubled, it was take, though she gave it freely. It still felt decidedly odd. " I'm okay. It is okay, my Lady, it was just the strangeness. I'm fine. Let's get you to the garden. " Mina braced herself visibly in the event that Crysheana needed more of her energy for she had it to spare.

One step at a time. Closer and closer they came to the vase down the corridor. Step by step, moment by moment, hoping the Lady did not break apart. " Almost there. Just a little longer. Almost there. "

She nodded at Mina’s words. She did not mean her harm, and the keep knew this. She would move where the Wenda took her. As they came closer to the vases, her hand would reach for them. Both flowers and water would be pulled apart, atom by atom, feeding her weak form. Stronger from flame and flower, she could walk at a faster speed and did not hurt. Still transparent and the void on her neck, her hand moved to cover it once more. She would not draw life again until they were outside. If any servant saw them, all they would see is Aramina holding onto something they could not see.

A brief smile moved across her face as she realized that the Lady was able to move at a quicker pace. She wasn't breaking apart, fracturing to be lost in oblivion. " Good! We're almost there. Only about another fifteen feet or so. Around that corner, nothing further."

Each foot they traveled felt like ten for Mina could not risk holding too hard. This was so far out of her league that she was clueless as to what might happen if she tried to hurry the Lady further, faster, too fast. So while the two did move swiftly, the wenda's fear of losing Crysheana made the journey seem further. " Almost there. Just a little further.

Tho her pace she slow, it was steady. Silent were her footfalls as they followed Aramina to the outside. If she could get to the garden, then the Lady would be able to feed from the life of the flowers and trees. The magically bound a tree was, the more she would be able to draw from it. If there was a tree liken to that on the grounds, she could remain within until she was whole once more.

Her neck was still ragged and broken. She did not know if she would ever be able to speak or sing again, however at this point she cared only to not move from this place. Slowing for a moment, a flash of pain across her face. The other hand moved up to her neck, holding it in both hands. A very hoarse whisper of a voice could be heard in the still halls.


"Thank you."

The woman breathed in, hearing the words, a mere breath of wind, so soft that she wondered if it had even happened. Mina's chin came up and determination firmed her jaw. She would not lose another. She would not lose another! Her eyes flashed with the strength of her will and her pace grew more sure, less erratic as she curried the Lady along. " Thank me when you're better, my Lady. Thank me then, okay?"

The door to the garden was right there in front of them and Mina had to make the choice of letting go of Crysheana or opening the door. She tried to do both, undoing the latch to yank open the heavy glass hatch and keep one hand on the Lady. If she could just last a few more feet!" My Lady, take more from me if you must. I have to release you to open the door. Don't fade on me now! " Her tone was half pleading, half commanding, a cadence she had learned from Havoc when he wanted something done and done now. Probably not the tone to take with the Lady, but it was what she had.

Mina hefted on the door, yanking it open with a strength she didn't know she had, turning with both hands out, half afraid that Crysheana might have crumbled apart with macabre grace right there while Mina wrestled with the garden door, to lead the Lady to her salvation.

The lady leaned farther forward as the neared the down. If she had not the ability to keep her balance, she would have toppled over. Seeing the flare of hope and determination radiating off Mina now, to gave her hope, the dor was just there. All it had to do was open. A weak smile on her face, she gave a slow nod. Pulling once more, just enough so she too could help open the door. While the wenda of her love, fought with the door, the lady took a few more steps forward to press herself against the barred gateway's arch.

There was a rustling of foliage on the other side. Leaves and vines clawing at the walkway, lurking towards the now open door. Grabbing at the feet of the two women blindly, for the lady had little control over her domain weak as she was.

Mina only knew about Crysheana from the histories. But she knew, she had felt the emotion related to the Lady from her own Hamak, from her son, the Captain, even if he had not wanted her to know it. That instinctive, intuitive sense that Mina had was what made her want to help this phantom with every ounce of strength and will she had. Finally, the door was open and the sound of relief from Havoc' Sarella was almost a sob of relief.

The vines and grass were clawing at their feet, Mina's bare as was her habit. Tears streamed down her face, unheeded as she continued to strive against the odds to bring the Lady to her garden. A kinetic burst, designed to flatten the grass without harming a single blade was sent out by the wenda, desperate to bring Crysheana to the middlemost point of this section of garden without being hindered. If it would work was anyone's guess for the grass and vines seemed to know that their mistress was nigh.

"Is it better? Are you better? Does it help?" Mina didn't seem to be looking for answers to her questions, seeming to need to talk, to say something, anything to make this real to her. Real for them both.

The Lady followed Mina to where ever Mina would take her in the gardens. All she wanted was a source of strong life. Something strong enough to give her all the power she needed to come back. To be reborn again in this world. She was grateful to the woman that was helping her. So much so that she was willing to bare the pain that this recuse caused her.

The moment she stepped outside, the now flatten grass and vines wither back. That which was closest to her gave themselves up for their lady. Less Mina took her somewhere there were plants that could support the Lady’s life, the garden would die. Anything she pulled now would still only hold off the end for so long.

The soft kind voice that once belonged to the Lady Rain gasped out again, ragged and hoarse. Each attempt at speaking hurt, each sound as the pain of a hot iron to flesh. “More…..I need….something….stronger.” Her hands around her throat again. She looked to the wenda of her beloved with plea.