Backdated to after Sreda + Fiora leave Camhanaich!
For Elysium ( Aelia Amaris Valeska Fiora)

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The trip to the Rise had been ... informative (to say the least). The strings of the plague were steadily revealing themselves to her, unraveling at the seams as the wolves of Mythris worked together to engineer a cure to the suffering. Perhaps, if they could cure their own ... they could, soon, cure the land as well.

One step at a time.

The next step was to stop by Elysium on the way back from Camhanaich to Northfall and let her family know of the Blue Turtlehead. Afterall, the properties of the mysterious plant were unlike any she'd ever seen. Of course, that was because they were trying to treat a disease that was unlike any she'd ever seen, too. But Sreda was patient and determined, her medicinal mind finally finding stride alongside her more macabre one.

The plague provided the perfect puzzle for her.

In Sreda's jaws was a small, squirrel-skin satchel of sprigs from the Blue Turtlehead ... a medicine bag, of sorts, to bring on her journey with Fiora. They had no way of knowing if symptoms would recur, so it seemed only necessary to take some supplies with her as she ventured back to the North. Sreda could only hope that the water of Elysium would clear soon, so that they could have their own supply of the herb close by (for she highly doubted Northfall's biome would support it).

So, in stride with Fiora, Sreda led them back toward the familiar lake of Elysium's Respite. The tainted water still festered, but the air itself felt more breathable. Sreda would turn her gaze toward Fiora, either allowing her to rest or to keep up stride with her as she sought out the scents of any Elysium wolves that were left in the area. If they were not here ... perhaps she would need to try to find her sibling (Dimitri) in the ichor fields to the west.

But she could only hope that some of her family still lingered.

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Skill: —

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Amaris lingered. An unfortunate stubbornness that he had surely received from one of his strong-willed mothers. There was something comforting about the familiar terrain that the Respite offered, even despite the poison and filth the world seemed to deliver. This was his home. And after so many days of wandering, of walking, of delivering runes and following the disembodied voice of someone in his dreams—all Amaris wished for was to recede quietly into the darkness of his home.

Just for a little while.

But before he could do that, it appeared the Five had something else planned for him.

He smelled his older sister before his eyes had landed on her approaching silhouette, the scent of Fiora, similarly held in the wind's breath. They had sent her away, although Amaris had not held his breath for his cousin--confident that whatever ailment she had picked up would certainly kill her in due time.

As much as he hoped she’d live, that is, Amaris had figured the world would take every shred of happiness and hope they could muster. Fiora included.

But with the freshness of her scent alongside Sreda’s heels, Amaris’ brow turned, and his golden eyes briefly narrowed. Sreda? He called out skeptically into the day as his own paws hastened to cut the distance between them.

Something hung between her teeth, and for a moment, Amaris eyed that as skeptically as he eyed his sister.

Are you well? He asked instead, pausing in his strides as he waited to see if his macabre sibling would act in similarity to how they had first found Fiora.

aelia is currently infected with the BWP PARASITE: now stage 4

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skill: expert soothsayer

The clock-ward sky turned heavy with gray clouds, jumbling up any source of light that bothered to come through. It did not help Aelia's state, though; nothing would at this point, except a cure. Why was the Five doing this to her... There was still a bright spot that simmered at her very core, like a tiny little blue flame, but she could do nothing about it. No matter how much dry grass or bits of broken up sticks she ate, the fire would not ignite... No, she was stuck like... Like this.

A sword dulled, its shine frosted by time and lack of care. Aelia's fur is wrought with tangles, the tufts of her ankles crusted together, and her furred grinchy paws... well, way grinchier. And she does not dare burst on the scene like she once would have — though even if she had, the anger and annoyance she once had towards Sreda would not even registered on the zombified Daystar's mind. All she could really think about right now was feeding the fire that made her core warm... That kept her from freezing in this weather. Not that it stopped her from shivering violently...

Noises in the distance attract the Spiritwalker —

'AMARIS, AMARIS, AMARIS...' Like a ritualistic chant.

Of course, in her zombie state, she would trail after the Moon... Maybe he knew, maybe he expected her to follow after him. Or perhaps he really didn't, and she was just this attuned to her sibling... Even on a subconscious level, she was caught in the pull of his orbit. She turns her weary head, and through the bushes, she can see them... Not just the silver star but...

Wait...

Black, shadowy auras cloaked whatever distinct characteristics that made them up, and instead, they are dark blobs that dance near her twin... Dangerous things... One of them runs up to him, and despite her shivering, she can feel a small flare-up. Danger is near... And even though there is something that begs her oh-so-dearly to submit, she refuses, letting her jaw drop, and just like when she witnessed her mother lose her tail, she lets out a scream. A final girl scream — like her twin is about to be murdered in cold blood.

It makes the trees shiver, crows cawing and fleeing from the pines overhead where she lurked, more like Amaya than her own self, staring wide-eyed, slack-jawed, after emitting the horrid screech. And then her attention fell to the bush in front of her, and she stared absently at it, before leaning in to take a bite of the brittle branches — to help fuel the fire, of course. She could definitely feel it waning after that exertion of energy.

Skill:

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First came the Moon. Amaris would lilt into view, cautious and nuanced. Sreda's pace would slow, her frame shifting into a curt halt as she cupped her ears toward her brother just in time to catch him calling her name. His voice would twist away, sucked up by the unforgiving mist and heavy clouds.

The air of Elysium felt heavy.

Брат (Brother), she would greet, waiting for her younger brother as he neared. She felt his gaze linger, drifting toward the satchel of herbs in her mouth. I have news, she'd begin lowering her head to the ground and letting the small bundle of herbs rest by her white-tipped toes. Her amethyst gaze would lift, locking onto Amarish with an intensity that could shatter glass.

But what shattered it first was Fiora.

No longer stunted, Fiora's mentation (and her voice) seemed rather ... vivacious. And Fiora would fly onto the scene, barreling through the mist and colliding with Amaris in a flurry of fur and screams. Sreda lifted a paw to hover over her cache, protecting the stash of herbs from the backlash of wind that Fiora created in her sprint.

But as Fiora and Amaris exchanged greetings, a screech would lift through the Respite. Sreda's head would turn toward the summons, unsurprised, as she was used to the random screeches of Amaya. But much to her surprise (and Sreda was growing rather tired of surprises), it was not Amaya ... it was the Sun. Sreda's gaze would narrow by mere millimeters, observing the way Aelia then began to chew ... on a bush.

It was rare form for her golden sister.

Aelia, you look positively dreadful. Her gaze would slowly drag along Aelia's form before twisting back toward Amaris in silent questioning. Sreda was always willing to dig a grave, but she'd prefer to save that joy for someone other than her family members. She'd turn to her cousin next. Tell me this isn't some exciting variant of your sickness.

This disease did not need a sequel. 

Sreda would soon need to eliminate it at the source,
if only she could find it.

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Skill: —

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Amaris was all skepticism and doubt nowadays, an inevitable result of months of the plague and the horrors he had been forced to endure. So when Sreda came forward, carrying a bag of something between her teeth, Amaris was certain to keep his distance. At least until he knew more and could be confident that whatever had latched onto Fiora would not infect another.

However, at the mere thought of his cousin, it appeared he had done enough to outright summon her.

His name was like a war cry cast into the midday air.

And before he had even a chance to move, his cousin was upon him.

Amaris landed on the cold ground with an ‘oof’ escaping his lips as Fiora’s tongue seemed to loosen with normalcy once again. No longer was her speech sluggish and slow. Instead, she seemed positively coherent…alive and well, much to Amaris’ surprise.

He offered a crooked smile as droplets of Fiora’s tears landed along his snout, Hey—hey—it’s okay. He tried to soothe, his voice holding a breath of a quiet chuckle, I’m glad to see you still kicking! And he meant that. Even if he had once had low hopes for the Witchdoctor’s prognosis.

However, before much of anything else could be said or done—like answering Fiora’s questions or having Sreda answer some of his own—a screech ruptured the air like a knife slicing through glass.

Amaris startled almost instantaneously, throwing Fiora off in one final push as he scrambled to his paws with a heaving chest. Despite being used to the sounds his darker sister often emitted, nothing in his body had prepared him for the sound his ears had heard. Especially when that sound came from his golden twin’s lips.

Aelia…? He called out toward her, his eyes cast in a weary glow beneath the sky. However, instead of rushing forward, offering an explanation, or doing anything remotely normal, his other half made for a bush.

Something in his stomach dropped like a weight. Aelia had been acting weird these last few days, but Amaris had tried to convince himself that it was nothing—that she had just been exhausted, that their trip from the south to the north was too much, and all they needed was a month of good ol’ rest.

His gaze turned toward his older sister, You think Fiora did this to Aelia? His words were not sharp as they fell from his lips; rather, they were numb and quiet as he slipped his attention from Aelia toward Fiora and then back to Sreda.

The sickness has my twin?

No, that couldn’t be.

It couldn’t.

No, no, no, no, NO.

You have something— Amaris quickly added, his eyes growing wide in Sreda’s direction, his voice now holding a panicked note. You made Fiora well. Fix Aelia, too.