Unexpectedly, Verial could feel the sunlight warming the back of his neck and looked up towards the ceiling of the solar. Through broken glass windows, rays of sunshine filtered into the solar and touched the floor, lighting a room that was otherwise dark. Sahar would have reveled in this; the feeling of the sun breaking through the snowstorms and giving purpose to the solar that she so often sought refuge to. Verial's hands clenched at his sides, his nails digging into his palms as he made an attempt to smother any anger - any feeling of vengeance - that wanted to so badly to surface.

His fury would only get him so far. There was no one he could hunt down and punish for any of what had happened. Apparently, as news made its way to Chaliceton, the whole of Aleris had been attacked by merfolk, a gigantic sea creature and much to the realm's dismay, its own kind, those who had been birthed or lived on Aleris. Verial had seen it. When it was safe to return to Chaliceton with those who survived the midnight attack on Arthuran's city, he noticed the change in the people.

The streets were littered with bodies, more of Chaliceton's own instead of merfolk. These people who had been killed were brutally murdered, or raped to death, or half eaten - their limbs torn from their bodies. Children had died. It was pure carnage. The city had been trashed. Windows were broken, doors off hinges, and certain buildings even had their roofs burned. Blood was splashed across the city on walls and streets, like crimson paint over a canvas of muddy snow.

Those who had fallen victim to the sickness, wandered out of alleyways shaking and terrified of what they had done while under the merfolk's mysterious poison. They stared aimlessly into the streets taking in all the destruction and though they appeared absent, their eyes vacant, they knew what they had done. After some time, a few fell to their knees sobbing and begging Elysia and whoever else they could for forgiveness. Other still stared, distant as if their hearts couldn't comprehend and were about to burst with guilt.

The people of Chaliceton were typically hearty folk. They lived day by day with each other in relative harmony, stronger because of the harsh climate and wilderness on Arthuran. However, this entire event had shaken them and they realized they only had so much control over themselves. What could Verial do? He had no choice. There was no time for mourning. Those who had obviously performed certain crimes were detained and jailed by the Chaliceton guard until Verial could be sure they were cleansed of this sickness. Some even came willingly and begged to be locked up. Because of that, the jails were full.

Day after day, the remaining survivors cleaned and rebuilt the city. It was a daunting task and one that was carried out with a certain feeling of heaviness. The people looked as if they were drowning. Then it came time to do something with all the bodies and since Chaliceton never had a large cemetery, Verial had to make the decision to burn all the bodies, including, much to his inner denial, Sahar's.

Part of him hoped that it had not actually been her. Or that maybe, by some forgiving stroke of luck, she'd awaken and would be fine. But those were foolish thoughts and in the end, he and Layla watched side by side as Sahar's body and many other Chaliceton people were consumed to ashes. In the morning, the ashes were taken to sea, prayed to and then casted out. It almost seemed wrong to do it; the sea had brought them terrors. Verial, however, knew the sea was as much a victim as were the people. Those remaining in the town watched as the ashes drifted into the sea and were washed out. Except Sahar. Layla had wanted to take Sahar's ashes back to her native people on Heruin.

The town was on constant watch and though Verial had specifically instructed Sedric not to overwork himself, the man was watching Chaliceton for more hours than a man could watch. He spent his days without sleep and trained new, younger boys who wanted to join the militia that could protect their city. All the youth, unfortunately, was forced to grow up rather quickly as they had seen more than they should have with innocent eyes that were now full of hate and sorrow.

Verial had convinced himself, foolishly, that he would not get angry, that he would absolutely not lash out. Replaying the events over and over in his head, standing in the destroyed Solar, had him anything but in control. As if his anger had finally boiled over, Verial reached out and grabbed the closest thing to him, a chair and threw against the wall with such force that it broke into splinters. Tables were flipped over, chairs overturned and paintings flung without a care from the wall. Verial cursed, his speech filled with growls and a broken, confused mixture of dragon, elven and some common tongue. He didn't know what he was doing or what he was saying, but he wanted to demolish the rest of this tainted room and everything in it.

Wherever Deanna was, though she may have not seen it, it would be apparent something had happened. On the nightstand that she kept Verial's dragon scale, the obsidian trinket caught flame, burning for a mere few seconds before extinguishing itself and leaving scorch marks on the wood.

When he was done wearing out a body that was already worn out, Verial collapsed onto his back breathing heavily, black scales covering the length of his arms. For a moment, Verial stared at the ceiling, through the broken glass, and let the sunlight warm his perspiring face before he closed his eyes. So badly did he want to escape into his dreams and create some sort of getaway, but nothing would hide what had been done to Chaliceton.