Ravain

"Lady Sura, are you sure of this? I am not trying to dismiss your claim, but the lightning that struck has barely caused us damage. A crack in the wall perhaps, but a few Arcanists were able to [Mend] that damaged region. But what you suggest is foolishness. Our livestock is utterly fine. No unusual reports or strange irregularities." Said Darrian Solvis, Castillan of Salem, dismissively. "To suggest otherwise is ridiculous. It was merely lightning, was it not?" 

Sura felt a throbbing ache jolt through her mind. "It was surely not just a mere Lightning strike. The level of devastation caused to the Redwoods rivals the Arcane might of a Magus Level Apprentice," she insisted, lowering her fork onto the table, suddenly losing her appetite. "And now that entire region is locked in an eternal winter. Wolves are suddenly growing to the sizes of horses, protruding horns from their skull. Stillborns are on the rise amongst the horses, and—" 

"And none of that has so much touched Salem. I assure you." Darrian cut in. He lowered the pristine white bone, picked clean, and wiped his mouth with a handkerchief. "Though we've experienced a higher tax on Ravain. But that has nothing to do with Salem. Those dogs to the west are just getting greedy. "He scuffed. "Did you hear? The Castillan of Suvix's third wife, Linda, or whatever her bloody name is, was killed on her way to Salem. The commonborn had not even entered our region before it all happened, and somehow, we are to blame. The gall of some people." 

"My Lord—" Sura said, gritting her teeth.

"They say the killer lopped off her head, placed a donkey's cock in her mouth before shipping it back to Talvos. Gods, I wish I could have seen the look on his face. They say he loved that commoner." Shouted Darrian, barreling in laughter. He took a swig of his tankard of beer, cold as winter. "Have you ever been to the Western Isles, Lady Sura? Never been myself. But I hear it's summer year-round. I can't say I envy them." He took another swig, finishing his tankard. "I—" 

"My Lord, the Lightning—" Sura said, trying to hold her building fury.

"Damn the Lightning! "Snapped Darrian. He stood up, his tall, sun-kissed complexion darkening with a scowl. "How long ago was that? Six Months? Five? A Year? It matters not. So what if there are more monsters or cryptids? They are still mindless beasts. Savages enthralled by their desire to live." Darrian passed a hand through his long, curly blonde hair. "I take it you've never been hunting before. When one hunts, we bleed the animal. We wait for them to tire themselves out as they scramble for dear life. No matter how strong these creatures grow. If they can bleed, they can be hunted." 

Whatever thoughts or hopes Sura had in convincing Darrian to grant aid to her forces died then and there as she stood up to leave.

'Darrian Solvas, Dragon Rider… you truly are a fool.'

***

Scribbling runes throughout his manner for the past seven hours, having tirelessly cleaned each and every corner of his home. A low hum of resonance whistled through the air before fading following the flash of light of the final rune within the master bedroom. 

"That should be it." He said, lifting a small glass cup of water. He dropped it carefully, observing how, after one hour of wait, the shattered glass and water turned to vapor faster than he could blink, vanishing into the carbon particles. 

Zariel studied Weave for a moment and nodded. "Swords and various metals ought to be safe, but mud, dust, and various things that shouldn't be on the floor should be atomized and disintegrated later around midnight." He grinned childishly. "And now my home can automatically clean itself. Neat. I—"

"Zariel!" Came the furious howl of Aurelia storming into his bed chamber before he had the chance to lock his door. She was there approaching him like a ferocious lioness. "My clothes… where are they?"

"Your what?" Zariel didn't understand for a moment until he did as a laugh crept up his throat. "Were they on the floor?" 

"...well, yeah." Said Aurelia, frowning. " What's that have to do with anything?" 

"Well, they're gone. Destroyed. Transfigured into their most basic components and then destroyed." Zariel said coolly. " It's quite a tool, I must say. I placed it on a one-hour timer."

Aurelia's fist narrowly missed Zariel's face as he leaned back. 

"The art of Alteration is quite an interesting field of study. Especially when combined with runes. It is a bit advanced, but—"

"Zariel!!!! My clothes! What am I to wear?" Shouted Aurelia, flailing her fist at the boy, weaving through strikes with ease. 

"Not my fault you're a slob. People keep clothes in a laundry bin or a closet or drawer. Not the floor." 

"Dumb-Dumb, I hate you!!!" She lunged at him with both arms, aiming for his throat, but Zariel ducked beneath her arms, twirling on the balls of his feet, seamlessly taking his leave as she looked around for him to find not even a shadow of his being. 

'There was still so much to do. I need a lab and an assortment of resources, and I need to find a way to get in contact with my brother and sister. Or better yet, the Order. If they're still alive.' Zariel thought, heading to a particular room he came upon when inscribing his house. 

From the moment he stepped in, Zariel felt a sense of calm and relaxation overwhelming his senses. The scent was smokey, sweet, earthy and pungent.

"This must have been the cigar lounge." Zariel thought, looking around at the fully stocked assortment of whisky and cigars and what was best to pair with. 

Curious, if not a little desperate after two months of restless nights, Zariel poured himself a glass of 'Hollow Creek 1711' and its assorted partner, a dry blend of Raivan, Mandrake, and Nightshade.

By the time Aurelia found him, Zariel was knocked out cold, gripping a half-empty glass of rose gold whisky and a half-consumed cigar of Ravain. Her eyes went wide, seeing him fast asleep. She'd been worried for a while, having noticed the haggard look he bore each morning. 

She grinned, pushing down her earlier fury. "Good Night Dumb-Dumb. And don't worry, Aurelia tossed all your clothes on the floor. So we'll have to go shopping tomorrow. Teehee!" She giggled, taking the cigar and whisky from his hands before wrapping him beneath a blanket. "night-night."

***

It was high past noon when Zariel awoke to take a piss. His mind was still groggy from the Ravain as he stumbled from out of the Cigar room and into his chambers, yawning as he entered and left the bathroom. He tumbled to the bed and fell back asleep. 

It hadn't been until evening that Zariel finally woke to find Aurelia staring at him. 

"I knew it… I'm still in hell, aren't I? Just do whatever you want. I'm going back to sleep." He turned his head, but Aurelia followed after popping her head into view. Zariel sighed. "What?" 

"nothing." Said Aurelia, watching him. 

"You're starring." 

"And?"

"Well, obviously, you want something." 

"Nope"

Growing annoyed, Zariel opened his mouth to speak when Aurelia said, "You were crying… so…" She patted his head, and for the first time, Zariel didn't wince from her touch. " Aurelia will give you all the head pats."

The boy glared, wiggling away. "Don't touch me." 

"Hehe, big brother is like a cat." Aurelia wiggled closer. " Come, Aurelia gives head pats."

Nearly pushing her out of bed, Zariel bitterly slid out of his bed, feeling far more refreshed than ever before. He yawned and immediately felt a surge of anger at the note left for him. 

[ Hi, Dumb-Dumb, Aurelia found all your clothes on the floor. Aurelia tried to save them, but…Ahhh~ she was too late… So she'll be in the carriage. (～￣▽￣)～]

"Son of a bitch!" He snapped, stepping out of the closet to find his room empty. He groaned. " She got me."

With no other choice, Zariel pocketed some money and left for the luxurious black carriage being prepped by a young woman he did not recognize, dressed like a maid. 

"Young Master," said the maid, bowing, but Zariel stepped past her, entering the carriage where Aurelia welcomed him. 

"You got my letter." 

Zariel glared at her. "I'll give it to you on creativity, but I hope you're ready for what's to come." 

Aurelia met his dark smile with a challenging one. " Bring it! " she exclaimed. 

As the nameless maid mounted the driver's seat, Zariel spoke. "Bring us to a tailor and have some groceries delivered to my estate. Each ingredient ought to have some semblance of Arcana to them." 

The dark, sultry, skinned maid, who bore freckles shrieking from cheek to cheek, turned somewhat surprised. "my lord? That'll be expensive. Its—" 

"Just get it done," he said, knowing Money shouldn't be an issue for the next decade, by his estimation.