Layla had returned to Bariston in less than a stellar mood, but at least she had the funds and resources, not to mention the ‘blessing’ of the young King Elias to rebuild Bariston. It would not be returned to its former glory, but perhaps it could be rebuilt better than before. At the very least, the remaining populace could return and businesses could be restored to bring in sources of income.

The Lady Victoire, accompanied by Captain Ambrose Pennington and the few guard she had brought with her, were met by Captain Miles Long at the Port. As Miles greeted his Lady, Layla noted that in the few days she had been in the Grand City, much work had been accomplished in the Port city. It would appear that citizens and military alike had worked non-stop cleaning up the Port, and Layla noted with smug satisfaction, that many of the workers were foreigners, brought by Miles from Jade City.

Excellent, she thought. The Mayor had acquiesced to her demands. Perhaps he was not as stupid as previously thought, though Layla highly doubted that.

Miles immediately noticed the bruising that Layla sported on her jawline and throat, thanks to Verial Akilara, and began questioning the brutal treatment of his Lady. Layla patted him on the arm with a smile, assuring her young Captain that all was well and she would explain as soon as they were safely tucked inside the manse. The Lady and the two Captains made their way from the Port city into the heart of Bariston. While Bariston wasn’t as nearly wiped as clean as the Port, it was a far cry from the devastated city she had left. A great sense of pride filled Layla. She knew that with some hard work and determination, Bariston would rise from the ashes, a glorious city once more.

Finally the mansion was within sight, and Layla let out a sigh, feeling a sense of peace overcome her as she had missed her home sorely. Even after the last few days’ events, Layla managed to feel at ease and calm considering the hideous situations that had presented themselves. She did not bother wasting time bathing and changing, instead opted for dinner with Miles and Ambrose so they could discuss matters.

Though not luxurious by any means, the meal was a hearty and hot stew that would fill the belly and chase away the chill in the air. Spiced hot wine was poured, and as they ate, Layla began surmising the events in the Grand City for Miles starting with her altercation with Verial. Miles dropped his fork in the bowl of stew, staring incredulously at his Lady.“I…forgive me Lady, but I cannot begin to fathom the violent actions of Lord..err…Verial. He always seemed so…pacifistic?” Miles shook his head in anger, veins bulging on the sides of his temple as he turned his attention to Captain Pennington. “Ambrose, tell me you snapped his neck like a twig for laying hands upon our Lady.”

Ambrose Pennington sighed heavily and set his stew aside. “I would have, but our Lady would not allow it." He slid a glance toward Layla, a faint smile tugging on his lips. “She is made of far sterner stuff that she is credited for, with incredible control of her own emotions. I personally would have broken that man in half, but eh…it was not my call to make.”

Layla smothered a laugh. “A bit of bruised skin, and pride, Ambrose. Nothing more than that. However,” her laughter died as her grey eyes narrowed, “the way the little King handled the situation sickened me more than Verial’s actions. To make him Lord of Arthuran for his treason. He consorted with that dark Goddess, assisted her in the mass genocide of an entire people, on top of his attack upon me, it was sickening.” Layla dabbed at her lips with a napkin, shaking her head in disgust. “The boy is a complete novice when it comes to leadership skills. A carbon copy of Alerion if truth be told.”

Miles was equally disgusted. “Tell me at least he went through with the execution of Deanna DiCorvino.” When both Layla and Ambrose stared at him, Miles’ eyes bulged out of their sockets. “Do not tell me he gave her pardon as well! Dear Gods!”

This time it was Ambrose who answered, his voice thick with contempt. “There was no execution. Sadly, the prisoner ‘escaped’ shortly after the altercation between Verial Akilara and our Lady, somehow. Our illustrious King Elias,” Ambrose sneered. “He gave this awe inspiring speech before the general public swearing up and down that she would be found immediately. He vowed to send a few of his ‘best men’ after her.” Ambrose snorted with heavy disbelief. “And if you believe that Miles, I have a castle to sell you in the Grand City.”

Layla’s blonde curls bounced as she chuckled. “I caught sight of him scanning the crowds for us, Ambrose. Most likely fearful we would start a riot right there and then.” Her chuckle turned into laughter as she openly began mocking the King. “You should have seen him Miles, so afraid of me that he couldn’t wait to get me on the next airship back to Bariston. Little child pretending to be King. Quite sad and pathetic, really. The crown is far too big and heavy on that tiny little head of his.” Layla took another bite of her stew, her brows raised upon seeing the look given to her by Miles. “You look like you just swallowed a frog, Miles. What is it?”

The young Captain was thunderstruck. “My Lady! You are not concerned about the escapee? She is a murderess, amongst other things. Do you not fear that she is on the loose, gods know where?”

Layla daintily speared a carrot and shook her head. “Not at all. I know where Deanna is, or at least I have an excellent hunch. I also have a hunch of who aided in her escape.” Her grin was feral as she bit down savagely into the orange vegetable. Miles waited for an explanation, but one look from Ambrose finally lit the candle above the young Captain’s head. “Verial?” He exclaimed in shock. “You believe Verial released her from her cell and smuggled her to Arthuran? That’s insane!”

Layla shrugged. “I have no concrete evidence to support my theory, but it is the only one that makes sense, and considering Elias’ blasé reaction…” Layla’s words trailed off, allowing the young Captain to figure it out himself. Finally after a moment of silence, Miles asked, “When would you like me to take a small group of soldiers to Arthuran to apprehend Verial and Deanna, my Lady?”

“I have no intention of doing so, Miles. Not yet at least.”

Miles nearly choked on his stew, as did Ambrose upon hearing Layla’s calm response. “Layla! You would just let this slide? What about retribution for Bariston? The people of Aleris? Your face! How can we just willingly and knowingly allow them their freedom?” This outburst came from Ambrose who had thus far remained rather quiet.

Layla smiled then, the transformation on her face was remarkable. It turned a hard woman into someone truly lovely to behold. “Freedom is an illusion, my dear Ambrose. Allow the happy couple to believe they are living happy and safe in that ice world of theirs. Eventually they will let their guard down. Eventually Elias will believe all is well and peace has been restored in the lands. In the meantime,” her smile turned feral, her grey eyes an icy storm. “We will quietly bide our time, rebuilding Bariston…and our military forces. We need airships and weapons. We can keep tabs on the on goings in Arthuran, perhaps even send a peace offering to the newly appointed Lord. Whatever. In any case, once we are at our full strength complete with a fully trained army, we will secretly storm Arthuran and take Verial and his bitch by surprise.” A quick baring of teeth as Layla’s smile widened. “And if that idiot brat thinks he can stand in my way, I will crush him like a fucking bug, King or no King. That little brat is no more fit to rule than Verial was. I shall teach him that lesson the hard way.”

All three laughed heartily, their moods lifted as they began talking about their plan of action. After a few moments, it was Miles who spoke, his face and voice sobering some. “My Lady, where is Sahar? She did not return with you. Has something happened to her?”

Layla quieted, her fingers toying with her wine glass. “Sahar has betrayed us all, Miles. I caught her inside Verial’s tent the last time I saw him. She was conspiring with him. Most likely she has joined him and Deanna in Arthuran.” Layla sighed sadly and shook her head once more. “Truly a great disappointment. My heart is heavy with sadness over the loss of Sahar, but she has made her choice in life. The gods will judge her accordingly.”

Both men murmured their agreement.

They talked a few more hours before bidding each other good night. Layla was exhausted and although she craved a hot bath more than anything, sleep called to her. As she undressed for bed, she thought of Verial Akilara with a twinge of sadness ran through her. Truly Layla had thought him to be a great man, a man worthy of not only his position in the realm, but possibly of her heart as well. She was so very wrong about him. Sadly, Verial was not fit to rule, and as far as Layla was concerned, she had no place in his world. That part of him was reserved for Deanna DiCorvino, a fact that caused angry bitterness to consume her. She had given him something she could never reclaim again, as well as her trust, and he used it to his advantage, and eventually spurned it. He betrayed the people he was entrusted to, but he also betrayed her…and her heart.

She felt somewhat guilty at first after her enraged outburst and accusations toward him,knowing she had hurt him with her verbal lashing, but in the end, she realized she had been too soft on him. He deserved her contempt, not her pity. Just as she was nothing more than a bad memory to him, he was nothing more than a bitter enemy to her. In the end, he would get all he deserved for screwing with Layla Victoire.


A few days later…

Layla was in conference with her advisors, or what was left of them, discussing reconstruction plans in the Port, when there was a knock on her door. Annoyed at the interruption, Layla excused herself and went to the door, opening it with irritation. “Oh, Miles…” Her expression softening upon seeing the young Captain, her brow arched as he smiled broadly at her.

“I have some news concerning Verial Akilara that you might be interested in,” There was a wicked gleam in his eyes as he leaned forward to whisper in Layla’s ear, knowing his Lady would be quite pleased, or so he hoped. Layla listened before leaning away, a soft chuckle was heard.

“Perhaps young Elias managed to find his balls after all.”

What had happened here? All around them were signs of devastation. Buildings leveled, rubble piled in the streets, the stricken expressions upon the faces of the men, women, and children they passed, the stench of mass funereal pyres hanging heavy in the air in spite of the fact they no longer burned. It was to Bariston they'd traveled upon their return having intended to make Elved their home had they not been called away from the land of Aleris. The decision to leave had not been their own, a distress call from The Order on Earth prompting their abrupt departure and forcing them to abandon the aid they had been giving to the fae woman known as Wish. Her thoughts touching on Wish she sent a silent prayer to the Gods of Aleris that the she had survived whatever had befallen this land.

Had it been her alone she might not have answered the Order's call, her loyalty to them not quite as strong as were her husband's. His family had been part of the order for generations, however, and he could not turn his back upon them and she could not turn her back upon him. Where he went she would go, his battles would become her own. Her loyalty to her husband was absolute and so she had departed Aleris at Alexien's side to help combat the threat that had descended upon The Order. Many had not survived the conflict but fighting side by side, as always, Alexien and Brina had; survived to return to Aleris only to find it in the aftermath of it's own war.

The stares they drew were no surprise to her. Despite the fact that restoration efforts were already well under way there was still so much to do and the terror and grief were etched into the faces of those they passed. It was only natural they would be wary of strangers given what they'd endured. But just what had happened, she wondered? What could have caused such destruction and how badly had the rest of the world been affected?

In an attempt to get some information Alexien moved off several feet to speak to a group of men who had paused in their work clearing fallen stone rubble from a building that could potentially be salvaged to watch him approach. After a moment of listening to whatever it was Alexien said to them they finally began speaking in hushed tones and she took that opportunity to let her gaze turn away, lavender eyes taking in every detail of the plight the people of Bariston, and possibly all of Aleris, now suffered. Alexien was soon returning to her side and with his head bent towards her, his voice hushed, he related all he had learned from the group of laborers which was pretty much everything they needed to know. Once the dam had broke the men had been only too eager to relay what they had gone through. They told him of Sharay's rampage across Aleris, the horrors she had enacted just in Elved alone, the attack on Bariston, and the Lady of Elved's efforts at reconstruction.

As his words painted the events in her mind she knew without a doubt they had returned to Aleris for a reason, that the land needed them. This was what they did, after all. Fought the good fight, offered relief and solace where they could. Meeting Alexien's eyes she knew without needing to ask that he would be of the same mind. But where to start? She could offer her services as a healer, help with the cleaning of the streets and repairing of the buildings. They would need to figure something out as far as lodgings went but it wasn't unheard of for them to make camp in the woods. Struck with a thought her head rose slightly, her right hand reaching out to lightly grip his arm.

””Tis to Galenous' temple we should go, m'love. No doubt his followers are helpin' with th' recovery. I can offer me services as a healer there, as well.”

It was only natural her first instinct was to travel to the temple of the God who looked after this land. They both had a background in serving the Gods, in their own way, Alexien a Priest of his unique order, herself a Ban Drui. Meeting Alexien's eyes she offered him a somber smile.

”If ye've got a better idea m'love, I'm open t'it. Either way we should be headin' into the woods before nightfall if we're goin' t'make camp.”

If memory served Galenous' temple was north of Bariston and they would need to cross a river to get there. They were used to traveling in such a manner, however, and she had no doubt if they got started they could reach Galenous' temple by the next day. Tightening her hand on the staff she carried she hosted the pack hanging from her shoulder a bit higher, preparing for the hike ahead. They'd come from one catastrophe to another, again faced with a call to service. They were not native to Aleris and some might not feel as if it was their responsibility but she merely took it in stride and set about doing what was needed.

It was what they did.

Victoire Mansion was presently a major hub in the city of Bariston as the Lady Layla Victoire had opened up her home for as many citizens and soldiers as humanly possible. The lady herself had not deemed it worthy for her to reside in comfort when so many had suffered and lost more than they could fathom. As it was, she had the blessed resources of monetary funds provided graciously by King Elias, as well as the assistance of the Mayor of Vandual who kindly provided provisions necessary for her people to make their everyday lives as bearable as possible.

The gold had been used to purchase building supplies such as bricks and cement, wood and tools. Layla had sent word for every able bodied mason and carpenter in the vicinity to aid in the rebuild of Bariston, and in the spirit of charity, those who were able to, came and devoted themselves to Layla’s cause. Even Major Stephen of Vandual had sent his own men with as many tents, tarps, blankets he could spare since Vandual had been spared the destructive force that had rampaged much of Elved. Horses were provided as well for which Layla was grateful.

The Lady of Bariston had gone as far as trading anything in her mansion worth value for added supplies, mostly food and warm clothes for her people, and this included heirlooms and family jewels. Layla had no use for such luxuries when her people, the survivors, were hungry and cold. As far as the citizens of Bariston was concerned, their Lady was a saint, a child of the Autumn god who provided the best she could for her people, the people she loved. As far as Layla was concerned, she was doing what was right by the people under her care as their leader, nothing more nor less. If only she could do more.

She had set up a soup kitchen of sorts in the main courtyard area of the mansion, which thankfully, had received little damage compared to the rest of Bariston and its Port. Unbeknownst to most of the staff she employed, even her advisors, Layla had kept a secret garden in the cellar that included lettuces, radishes, potatoes, spinach and cabbage. It wasn’t the vast variety she had been used to, but combined with whatever provisions were in the larder that she spent years hoarding, all would help to see her people through the winter. The saddest part was, had Bariston’s population been at full capacity, the food and supplies would last at best a month, but since there was less than a third of the people around, Layla was confident with a bit of rationing, she could make it last until spring. She still relied on hunters and trappers for wild game in the forest, especially since their fishing industry had sunk to the bottom of the sea. Layla’s priority had been to restore homes first, but without business, her people would starve, so as of this moment there were two fishing vessels that were fully operational, much to the thanks of Layla and her people.

The devastation would last years, despite Layla’s best efforts, but the Lady of Bariston would not allow this somber thought to deter her actions. Bariston would thrive once again before she drew last breath, this she vowed, and anyone who attempted to sway that, would pay a heavy price indeed.


Earlier this morning…


Large black cauldrons filled with porridge were set up in the courtyard, and whatever staff that survived, traveled back and forth from the kitchen to the outside area to replace the empty pots. Layla, her handmaiden Neera, and a few other local women were busy ladling the meager but filling breakfast to the workers and soldiers, as well as any citizen who needed a hot meal in their bellies, those who could not provide for themselves. Layla was out here every morning, every afternoon and every evening to serve food, to chat with her people, or simply offer an ear to listen. Children were few and far in between, but those who made an appearance were greeted by hugs from their Lady, and if possible, a small sweet treat much to their delight.

Layla was encouraging a rather old woman, one who had once been the most skilled of seamstresses in Bariston to help herself to more food, when she caught sight of Captain Miles Andrew Long on horseback approaching the mansion. With a smile, Layla politely excused herself and wiped her hands on her apron as she went out to greet Miles. The small blonde woman who once prided herself on her immaculate grooming, the perfection of a Lady, now wore drab woolen dresses over thick stockings and worn boots. Her hair was in a messy plait, and long were the days of powders and perfumes. Hands once soft and manicured, were now rough and chapped with short nails far more suitable for a day’s labor. Yet despite the dramatic change in her opinion of personal appearance, Layla had never felt prouder of herself or her people.

The young Captain was sporting a beard since razors were hard to come by these days and he grinned at his Lady who approached with bright eyes and a hopeful expression.

“My Lady,” he greeted as he landed lightly on his feet, the horses reigns in hand. “I have the news you seek.” Miles tied the horse to a nearby tree and walked off a bit of a distance so that he and Layla might speak privately.

The Captain was chewing on a piece of jerky as Layla read the parchment that contained the information she sought. The Lady of Bariston’s grey eyes rapidly scanned the handwritten account and when finished asked, “Her identity was confirmed? No doubts whatsoever?”

“Oh yes, my Lady. Without a doubt, it was her.”

Layla tapped a finger to her lower lip, and Miles knew Layla’s brain was working a mile a minute. “How is my father’s brother anyway, Miles?” She inquired with a faint smile.

Miles grinned broadly. “Your Uncle sends his regards, though he did complain that his travels to bring me the news were a bit hard on an old man such as himself, and vows that as soon as he receives a new shipment, he shall send you something spectacular. Perhaps a cameo or a lovely bracelet, I believe he said.” Miles paused then, an amused gleam in his eyes. “Your Aunt sends kisses and wanted to know if you are still stick thin. I told her your hunger only fuels you to work harder in your devious plotting.”

Layla chuckled and rolled the parchment tightly before tucking it into her sleeve. “Truly you are a devil, Miles.” Once again she thanked the gods her distant relatives had the good sense to relocate to Chaliceton so many years ago when she was but a small child. She could always count on them for anything newsworthy, or to do a little reconnaissance duty. As it was, Layla had valuable spies in all continents save Heruin. There was little that went on in the lands of Aleris that she did not know.

“What is our plan of attack, my Lady?”

Layla tucked a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “Nothing as of now. Let them have their false sense of security for now, Miles. Once their guards are dropped, and they grow comfortable in their day to day routines without peering over their shoulders, well…that is when we shall strike. Not a moment sooner thought. I want us fully prepared.”


Later that afternoon…


Captain Ambrose Pennington strode through the hallways of the mansion until he came upon Layla Victoire’s personal chambers. He knocked sharply on the door and was admitted immediately by his Lady who sat at her table, checking off a list of inventory. There were also documents awaiting her signature, and slips requesting more supplies. She did not bother to look up as she knew it was Ambrose from the sound of his footsteps.

“What is it Ambrose?” She murmured, distracted by figures.

“My Lady, forgive my intrusion, but there are newcomers in the city. They were spotted walking amongst the people and asking questions regarding Bariston’s state. I cannot be sure, but it is unlikely they are from Aleris, unless they reside in Heruin, but I do not believe so.” Ambrose came to this conclusion after finding out the couple, a man and a woman, had obviously no idea of what had taken place recently in Aleris. Ambrose gave all information he knew about the couple, which sadly, was little. “What would you have me do, Lady?”

Layla arched a brow and stood, stretching as she considered her response. “I would have to agree that they are not native to Aleris, at least that is my assumption. As to why they are here in Bariston? Most likely they have business on Elved, for I doubt they are passing through on vacation.” She smirked some. “In any case, the day grows late and night shall fall soon. We shall offer them food and a place to rest their heads. I would like to find out more about these newcomers."

Ambrose frowned. “My Lady, there is no room at the mansion to accommodate them, not to mention we do not know if they are friend or foe. I will not compromise your safety. I believe that it would be best if we-“

Layla cut him off with a wave of a hand. “Bring them to the mansion, Ambrose. You say there is nowhere to accommodate them? I disagree. They shall reside in my bedchamber then. I will not turn them away Ambrose. Perhaps they can help us in some way, and if not, well then, it never hurts to do a charitable deed, now does it?” Layla smiled gently to her Captain. “Ride out and greet them on my behalf, Captain. Apologize to them that I was unable to ride out with you. Bring them to the mansion and lead them to the dining hall. Food shall be prepared for them, and I will make sure they have clean linens, for I am sure they are weary. Go now and offer them my hospitality.”

There were many who thought Layla to be a cold impersonal bitch, Ambrose thought as he bowed and left to do as Layla requested. Little did they know the passion that drove this woman to accomplish the unthinkable and that deep down behind the carefully placed mask, the Lady of Bariston had a kind heart, but woe to those who disgraced or insulted Layla Victoire. Her wrath knew no bounds, as soon many would find out.

It is what they did. That affirmation was a difficult one to repeat every day. The belief was there, the will was there, but the perspective had been ever changing. The romanticized idea of war and death was that a man or woman could go onward into battle hardened and steadfast, to die with fellow warriors in blazes of eternal glory. Stories of valor and heroism were in every culture in every race of being since the dawn of time. The truth was far from a story. The truth was an ugly, painful, merciless thing. The truth was that in times of war you would watch your friends die, you would be forced to choose whether or not to continue fighting a losing battle, and if you were fortunate enough to live through the ordeal, memories of the event would stay with you forever.

He had watched good men do wicked things in the name of necessity. He had committed unspeakable acts at times when no moral course was possible. It revealed there were times when violence was unavoidable, and a certain manner of evil was required. For someone who had always been taught that he acted on behalf of the “righteous” nature of man, it was a weight made all the more heavy. How good a man could come from the things he'd done? How much belief could a person have after so many years of effort with such minor result? They were burdens he carried that seemed all the more obvious when in times of peace. It showed in his gaze and in his often forced smile; he hadn't lost the fight in him, he was just tired of so much fighting bringing about so little difference.

They had been summoned from Aleris when an all alert was sent their way. Never had all forces scattered across the world let alone throughout different realms been summoned at one time. Word had come that the order itself was to be attacked, that a collected force was to descend upon the stronghold his ancestors had built. The order may have lost touch with them for some time, but in moments of need there were none who ignored the call. If only to defend what stood as a beacon, one of the last beacons the world he came from had. But it was not the building. Wood and stone were easy to replace. It was the symbol, the grand ideal it carried. That no matter the time, no matter the world, mankind would stand before all who would seek to threaten it. A true light in the darkness.

And darkness was what they found when they arrived.

The attack was lasting, and it was immediate. They had barely been inside its walls for a day when Hell seemed to rise from all directions. Never had he seen such numbers in such a short time, emerging from the earth and from the very air. A full attack was something never thought of in all the years the order had existed. The fort had legendary defenses, protective measures set in place from centuries of magical and industrial expertise. It was something none would have considered possible, a direct assault from all fronts. But that was why it was so effective. Not for the enemy, but for those inside the order itself. Because while the hordes that came relied solely on surprise and numbers to overwhelm, they failed to remember something. Mankind throughout the course of its history never worked more harmoniously or more effectively than when they were given no choice but to rise above or die.

Many of his friends perished. Many whom he had grown along side were burned or buried before they left. It had been a lengthy battle that caused much death and destruction but in the end, at least for the time being, they had managed to chase away the night. He and his wife remained for several weeks after the conflict to help with immediate needs, but soon they agreed that it was time to return to the service they'd left behind. Requests were made that both Brina and himself remain at the Order. Their assistance would be of great use, and there was even talk of an Elder position being offered. However, the Order would survive and for now that would have to do. The circumstances they had left behind in Aleris were never gone from he or Brina's memory. It was a difficult decision to leave, (especially with so little word) but no choice in the lives they'd chosen were easy. It could only be hoped that when they returned to Aleris things would not have taken a severe turn for the worse.

Hope as it seemed was not always enough...

– – – – – – – –

They had arrived in the aftermath of war, into the wake of ruin. His home had been saved but the world they'd left behind to protect it looked as if it had needed the assistance more. From one battle torn world to another they'd traveled, proving once again that no matter where or when, the struggle was never ending. What else could be done now but to see what help they could offer? They traveled through small villages and then to larger towns, finding information here and there until a detailed explanation of what happened was put together. A dark god gone mad, a pantheon of silent Gods who spoke only at the precipice of Armageddon, and the nearly extinct world which had been caught in between, forced to fend for itself. It was of at least some comfort to find the world had rallied and survived, but that made the guilt no less difficult. Either decision would have held a certain measure of regret, and truthfully there was no -right- choice to have been made. More often than not there was no path without consequence. There was only choosing the path, and then doing your best to walk it without regret to where it led. No. Life certainly wasn't a story in a book.

No sooner had they begun to deliberate on the best way to be of use than a guard rode down the street at half pace, 2 other soldiers flanking his sides. The priest and his wife sat at a set table outside a half reconstructed building (a tavern owners attempt to keep some kind of business going while things were being put back together) with two glasses set before them. The guard who approached stated his name was Ambrose, and that the Lady of Bariston wished for the two of them to come to her mansion. The request was somewhat hesitant and skeptical from the mans lips, as if he spoke an order that much of him didn't agree with. Obviously they weren't trusted, and at such a time only a fool wouldn't know why.

”M'lady has offered food and lodgings at her mansion. Room is scarce with those already sheltered inside, but she has given her chambers so that yo..”

Alexien stepped forward, facing the mans scrutiny and uncertain gaze. The eyes were the same. Oh the color was different and minor details were not identical, but the measure of them was the same. Two tired men doing all they could in an uncertain world. A soldiers eyes, weathered but unwavering. The captain seemed surprised once he had a better look at the man, and for the first time he seemed to ease a bit.

”We will meet with your lady and offer our assistance. But her chambers though appreciated remain her own. We haven't returned here to force the already burdened from their bed. We 'will' accept a ride back to this mansion though. Tents we could bring..but a horse wouldn't fit in the satchel.”

Both men grinned a bit as he and his wife were soon set upon the two flanking guards horses. It wasn't a far ride back to the mansion but long enough for a small bit of dialogue to be shared between the priest, his wife, and captain Ambrose. The distrust wasn't completely gone but it did ease a bit, all 3 of them speaking of what had happened to Aleris and how Alexien and Brina happened to be in the world at all. Ambrose seemed more at ease upon hearing they had been there before, not only been there but had been assisting another one of its denizens. He seemed almost in agreement when it was explained why they left to defend their home, the man apparently would've made the same choice. And that brought the priest a measure of relief. It was never a joyous thing to make a hard choice, but to know others would have made the same decision you did – it was comforting.

They were brought to the mansion and their belongings were left at the door with the two guardsmen while Captain Ambrose led the way to the dining hall. The cassock and crimson collar always stood out in a room, his wife whom had a much more universal style as opposed to his seemed to blend in quite well. No doubt the fae in her made things like realm-journey a common thing. Being a human though, and what's more a human with a very particular place in life – he was no more uncommon than in a world where his Church didn't exist. From where they stood his eyes roamed along the hall, looking over the table and what had been laid upon it. He paused a moment as the idea of prepared food sank in. Oh both he and Brina did what they could to eat, but there was only so much one could do while constantly on the move. So during the silence, he spoke in a soft and slightly sarcastic tone.

”Captain Ambrose..there's been a mistake. My wife and I requested a table by the window.” When the Lady of Bariston chose to enter, it would be to the sound of her Captain chuckling to himself. There were worse first impressions to be made.

“We must entertain more often, if for no other reason than to hear Ambrose laugh like that again.”

Layla Victoire, Lady of Bariston entered the dining hall and dipped her head in greeting to the newcomers, her guests. She had not changed out of her 'work clothes' yet, but had done her best to tame the messy blonde mane of hers into a neater plait and washed the grime from the day off her face and hands. Times had indeed changed for at one point in her life, Layla Victoire would not dream of anything less than a perfect representation of what a lady and ruler of a vast land should appear to people. What seemed once so important to her once before, was but trivial compared to what mattered most in life these days, and that was to get Bariston and her people back on their feet.

Layla glanced from the woman, who was a stunningly beautiful woman with an enviable fashion sense and the gentleman whom Layla was quietly informed by one of her guard was her husband. Layla arched a blonde brow, her grey eyes fastening on his manner of dress. A priest. This man was a priest, and he had taken a wife. How very peculiar, she thought to herself, but having found herself staring, Layla smiled to both of them as she swept inside the hall to take her place by Ambrose Pennington, Captain of the Bariston Gaurd's side. “Merry meet to both of you and be welcome in my home.” Ambrose held out a chair for Layla to take her seat and immediately followed suit. The two helped themselves to the simple, but various dishes upon the table and Ambrose poured wine for Brina and Alexian as well as for Layla and himself. Whether the two consumed alcohol or not, it was the polite thing to do to offer the delicious red.

Layla sipped at her wine thoughtfully as she regarded the two. “I overheard you Father, decline my offer to use my quarters for you and your lovely wife to bed down tonight. I assure you it is no trouble at all, but if you feel more comfortable elsewhere, I would understand. I do not have much presently to offer personally to you by means of gracious comfort, and as you have plainly seen through your travels to my city, neither does it, but we are working diligently to ensure that Bariston reclaims its former glory. So, what I have essentially, is for your use should you choose to stay in Bariston. It would be my honor.” Layla beamed a proud smile at the very idea of the restoration of her beloved land. The Lady set down her wine glass.

“Forgive me, I seem to have forgotten my manners. We have not been properly introduced my Lady...Sir... though I believe you are aware of who I am and if not,” she cast a sideways glance at Ambrose who shrugged in that gruff manner of his. Layla patted his hand and shook her head before turning her attention back to the husband and wife. “I am Lady Layla Victoire, but you may call me Layla if you wish. I do not believe I have been informed of your identities yet....or your reason for visiting Bariston, especially considering the state that it is presently in.”

Layla daintily plucked at piece of roasted chicken and waited for their response. Curious of their purpose in Elved, if they were friend or foe, Layla would indeed welcome them into her home, to her food and whatever else they required. Should they prove themselves untrustworthy or filled with nefarious purpose in her land, well...they would be dealt with accordingly. Layla had her fill of deceptive persons in her presence as of late, and hoped with all her heart that these two had noble intentions. To trust was a good thing, but not to trust was better, and Layla found herself wondering these days who was worthy of her trust and her loyalty.

Unsure of any other options that awaited them she had suggested traveling to Galenous' temple as it seemed the logical destination for two such as they. It went without saying that they intended to volunteer their skills towards the healing of the people and the land but where to start was the question of the hour. They had nearly decided to follow her original plan of action and head for the Temple when the sound of hoof beats caught their attention. Peridot eyes rose to fix upon the trio of men approaching them and she rose in unison with Alexien though it was he who stepped forward to speak with the men and determine their intentions. She remained silent as Alexien exchanged greetings with the men, determining that their intentions were noble and they carried an invite from the Lady of Elved herself.

When their eyes shifted to rest upon her as if to silently include her in the invitation she smiled gently and inclined her head slightly in greeting. She understood the men's wariness, especially in light of the tragedy that had befallen this land, and she tried to project an air of gentle assurance that they were not a threat to their people or home. The invitation was extended and accepted by Alexien on their behalf and within moments she was seated astride a horse behind one of the flanking guards, her staff held securely in her left hand as her right held loosely to the man in front of her though she sat a horse easily and seemed a natural in the saddle.

She rode in silence, listening with half an ear to the men banter amongst themselves, her gaze passing over the faces of those struggling in the wake of tragedy, those injured and battered, both physically and emotionally, who still struggled with an inborn determination to rebuild, and she felt her heart fill with sorrow for those who yet suffered along with admiration for those who yet found the strength to fight in spite of it.

Nearing the mansion that housed the Lady of Elved her curiosity piqued regarding the Lady herself and what manner of woman she would turn out to be. The fact that he had sent her men to offer hospitality to perfect strangers spoke quite highly of her but the fae priestess knew not to make assumptions and held off on forming any opinion until she met the Lady. They arrived at the keep and were ushered in by Captain Ambrose, a man her husband seemed to take a liking too as he joked with the Captain upon seeming the reception that awaited them. It was the sound of a feminine voice that drew her attention and her eyes were already fixed upon the doorway before Layla ever appeared within it.

She felt eyes upon she and her husband as the Lady of Elved took their measure, an action being mirrored by her as she let her eyes, as well as her senses, take in Layla as she approached. As with the guardsmen she kept silent as Layla greeted them most graciously, introducing herself and giving them leave to address her informally as Layla should they so wished, her offer of anything she had to assist them given without hesitation. After a moment a small knowing smile touched to the fae woman's lips and she inclined her head to the Lady, her body lowering in a slight curtsy. It wasn't a gesture of servitude or obeisance but something that conveyed far more honor (in her slightly off logic), it conveyed respect. Without being told she knew this woman had given up everything to help her people and would continue to do so.

She had no chance to speak after that as they were ushered to the table set out with a welcoming dinner, far more generous than they deserved, and within moments they were seated at the table with Layla, a plate set before them each. The Lady gave them time to begin their meal before inquiring about their business in Bariston, reminding them all that they had not yet introduced themselves. With a soft smile at the unintentional breach of etiquette she glanced to her husband, letting him know without words she would answer the lady's inquiry.

”Apologies, Lady, for our rudeness,” she began in her softly lilting accent. ”This is me husband, Father Alexien Kincade, and I am Brina. We aren't from ye're land, M'Lady, we come from the realm of Earth if ye've heard of it. Some time ago we sought t'make a new home for ourselves here on Elved but we we're called back t'Earth and were only just able t'return. We didna expect t'return to this, M'Lady. We've heard what has befallen ye're land and we'd like t'help where we can. I am a healer and will gladly lend whatever assistance I can offer ye and ye're people.”

Though not a healer in the same sense she was Alexien was still capable of assisting with tending to the needs of the people. He was a warrior, a priest, and an able bodied man. He was capable of being a great help in many ways, however and wherever it was needed. She could sense the wariness deep within Layla, the Lady had clearly been through a lot, both personally and through the trials of her people, and meeting the woman's eyes she let her smile widen though it remained gentle, understanding, as if silently reassuring Layla she understood.

”We're here t'help ye, M'Lady, and perhaps find a new home in ye're beautiful land. Nothing more, I promise ye.”

He had met many a Lord and many a Lady throughout his travels. Back within his home world the Order sent its clerics to all manner of places, many being townships and kingdoms. To know how to speak and how to act among them was something that he learned many years ago. But where as in his younger years he would been nearly falling over himself to earn the trust of those who oversaw the people in a native land, he knew now the only way to do that was through doing just that. Earning it. So his wife spoke first to the Lady, offering a reason for their being in the lands of Aleris at such a time. He offered the occasional nod and pleasant smile in the woman's direction as his gloved hands sat upon the table before him with a plate of food that remained untouched for the time being.

When his wife had finished speaking he glanced to Layla, noticing the slight raising of her brow from when she first set eyes upon them. Even now she seemed to have a look in her eye, not distrustful just..curious. He had seen it enough times to know where it came from.

”The Order I serve has certain...views not yet adapted by the main body of my faith. Their way is that...if I am to fight, and perhaps die for the cause, than sons and daughters must be born to serve that same cause when I am gone. Were it not so, the Order would have fallen in its first years. So, marriage is optional..but there are certain sacrifices to be made for every freedom.”

Though he spoke no more of that specific fact, he glanced to his left hand. The ring finger of the glove was shorter than the others, specifically stitched to end where the 2nd knuckle (and the finger itself) did. Marriage, or rather the choice to one day marry was made individually by each and every cleric of the Christian sect. As his father and his father before him had, he made the choice many years ago that he too would one day want a family. Thus the 'mark' was made and the digit was offered. The idea was that a ring could be taken on and off, just as a normal marriage could be done and undone. They were sworn that when they chose to marry it was for their life – they needed no ring, and as such, no finger for it. Realizing he visually hesitated on that part of himself, (and it might seem a tad morbid) he soon looked back to the woman covering left hand with right.

”But, there is no need for you or your city to offer anything. We have tents and bedrolls that will suit us fine. I do plan to purchase a bit of land sometime in the near future..but before that happens, we felt it necessary to earn that right first. There are more than enough presently existing homes that need to be rebuilt before anything new has right to be erected. And that, as my wife said, is why we are here. To do what we can where we can. I lack Brina's healing touch but..I've come to find that a land in need of healing..more often than not..soon requires other particular skills.”

Smiling again, it was obviously less heartfelt this time. The sad truth was that a land which required healing and rebuilding was also in need of protection. The knowledge of the potential for violence which came with that need was something he could never look forward to. But. Those who defended the world were no doubt much fewer in number now than before all the destruction happened. And those who did still live had homes and families of their own that they had earned the right to return to, even if only for a short while. Let those who had bared the heaviest burden tend to their own for now; he would pick up the slack wherever need be. Realizing the 2 women had begun to eat he looked to the plate before him and closed his eyes.

A slight canter of the head, an internal thanks and remembrance given to those close to him – and those of this land whom he will never know. And once his eyes opened he tugged the glove free from his right hand and began to pick at the food sparingly. For the first time in a long while he found himself at a table eating a meal, and the silence in those moments gave time for reflection and recollection. The thumb of his left hand ran absent-mindedly down a scar on his left cheek that seemed only a month or 2 old, but the scar itself looked unique – something no blade could have caused. More so a hook point, or a talon. Monsters in the night always left their mark, be it on the face of an entire world or the bearded cheek of a tired priest. The world like him would heal, he knew that, but some wounds managed to run deeper than others. Tomorrow they would find out exactly -how- deep this world had been injured.

”If there are areas of your land more in need of help than others, it's there we'll travel to first. Now that we know the details of what happened to cause all this we're more than prepared to set things right again...one brick at a time.”

Looking then to his wine his tongue passed subtly over lips that were drier than he'd thought.

"..With a good glass of wine. Yes. Because wine..goes with everything."

The more Layla listened to Brina and Alexien during dinner, the more she enjoyed their company. Brina was charming, graceful and soft spoken, the ultimate lady in every sense. Father Alexien was not quite as sociable as his lady-wife, but when the man did speak, all quieted to hear what came out of his mouth. Brina was lively, but Alexien was utter calm, and sometimes calm was a great asset especially in times of turmoil. All who came in contact with the traveling couple were immediately put at ease, including Layla Victoire.

The Lady of Bariston had indeed informed both that should they wish, their services would be of great use in Bariston and the surrounding cities. Healers, especially those of Brina's caliber, were of short supply, and Layla assured the woman she would be a prized and welcomed asset. As far as Father Alexien was concerned, Layla knew that a man as skilled in the art of weaponry and warfare. Alexien, in Layla's eyes, need not brag about his prowess on the battlefield before others. Anyone with half a wit could see the quietly spoken man was Death to those who were unfortunate enough to become his enemy in some manner. Layla had silently assessed the priest over dinner and when the dishes had been cleared and brandy had been offered, then Layla spoke.

“Lady Brina, I would be most grateful for your healing talents here in Bariston. Many who have survived did not come out of this war unscathed. As several of my own personal healers did perish, and we are sorely lacking, your methods of care would be appreciated.” She smiled kindly to Brina before turning those cool gray orbs to the silent but observant Alexien. “Father, your Order's loss is, I hope, my gain.” Layla was unaware of Father Alexien still served his Order or not, but she would not lie and say that fate and fortune had smiled upon Bariston for sending him and his lovely wife here.

“A man like you is considered priceless in my opinion.” Layla sipped at her brandy for a moment, considering her next words. “You must understand, Bariston has a handful of the soldiers we once had. I will proudly boast that the Bariston military is the finest, or rather was, in all of Aleris if I do say so myself.” A smile touched Layla's lips and she closed her eyes briefly in remembrance of all those lost. When she did open her eyes they were dry, but the sadness lingered. “Ambrose,” she turned to glance fondly at her Captain, “as fine and respectable of a soldier that he is, is but one man to keep order. Our other senior captain, Miles Long, acts as my personal eyes and ears about the land.” The words were stated matter-of-factly, for Layla held no shame that she had spies about Aleris. Harsh times called for harsher measures.

“You would honor me Alexien, and my people that I love most if you would assist what few hard bodied and able men I do have remaining in training them to defend their home. To defend their families. These men would die as they live for their loved ones and their home, and that is fiercely.” Layla sipped once more at her drink. “I would never presume that either of you would remain here forever, for I am sure you have your own journey to partake in life, your own missions. I would tell you that for however long I am blessed, my people are blessed, to have both of you to guide us, to give yourselves freely and selflessly to us, we would hold you in our eternal thanks.” Layla leaned forward, placing her palms flat upon the table, her wintery gaze intense. “Bariston will be reborn, Lady...Father...whether you choose to remain here or not, but know that your generosity and kindness will be appreciated and accepted." Layla smiled warmly to them.

"Welcome then to Bariston...friends."

They ate in silence for the most part, the fare as elaborate as the Lady of Elved could make it which was, to say, it was simple yet filling. That suited the Eire born fae woman just fine and she ate what was offered gratefully. She could feel Layla's regard upon them both, weighing their words, taking their measure. It was to be expected, really, especially considering all the land had endured as of late. Something told her the Lady of Elved had also endured much, personally, during the traumatic time. Such things were not for strangers to remark upon, however, and she merely sat beneath Layla's scrutiny with a gentle smile touching her lips.

It was easy enough to see Layla's interest in Alexien. And why not? He was the finest of warriors, that she would vouch for with her last breath, and if it was one thing Elved clearly needed it was men (and women of course) who could not only defend it, but help rebuild it as well. Alexien need not speak of his prowess on the battle field, he carried it with him like a silent shroud. Once dinner was cleared and brandy poured for them all her suspicions were confirmed as Layla began to speak, first stating that they would be more than happy to accept her assistance with the healing of the citizens of Bariston, and all of Elved really, who might still need it. Conversation was quick to shift to Alexien, however, and what he could bring in the way of help, Layla quickly explaining they could use a man such as Alexien to ease the strain on those that remained of the continent's army.

Whether or not he would offer his sword arm was for him to say though she knew, within, that he would never deny a people in need. Either way he would speak for himself and her thoughts turned inward as she began to mentally catalog the items in the packs she carried, the majority of it consisting of the tools of her trade rather than personal items. She had a goodly amount of herbs and stones as well as other miscellaneous items that most would not understand in a healing capacity. It would get her started but it would not be enough, not if the need for a healer was still great.

”M'Lady, have ye're people set up a hospital or other location dedicated t' healin'? I'll be needin' t'get an idea of ye people's needs so if ye could point me in the right direction I'll be visitin' them first thing in th'mornin'. Once we've made camp I'll also be needin' tae speak with ye're local flora, ye're no doubt runnin' out of supplies.”

Already her mind had moved beyond the questions she'd put to Layla, her thoughts dancing like quicksilver as she began to coordinate her healing efforts mentally. Once they made camp that night she would begin searching out the local plant life, have a little chat with them and see what plans might be useful for assisting with healing. She had only just begun to explore the plant life on Aleris when they'd been there before, there may be some similar plants to those found on Earth, but there was no guarantee of that. Realizing she'd become lost in her thoughts she met Layla's gaze and smiled ruefully.

”My apologies, M'Lady. It is our intention t'make a home for ourselves here, for as long as the Fates allow us t'settle down. It is the least we can do t' help the people of our new home.”

There were no promises that they would be in Aleris, or on Elved, forever. She had learned long ago not to make long term plans as Fate had a way of shaking things up when they least expected it. But she had spoken the truth; it was their intention to make a home for themselves on Elved for as long as possible and hopefully find a measure of peace and contentment there. Yet they were still who they were and, desires for peace and contentment or not, they could not turn their back on those in need.

Though not an imposing presence like her husband there was a determined gleam in her peridot hued gaze. They had done all the talking they needed to do. It was time to get down to the doing.