Vesta sighs heavily and attempts a smile, though it comes out strained, the corners of her mouth pulling upwards in something that is almost a grimace. “Well hey,” she says, trying for brightness. “With Nill here, that gives us extra hands, which puts us closer to waking Saige up, right?” Nill nods twice without hesitation.

“I will do the helping with the waking of Saige.” Vesta gestures towards her in confirmation.

“See? There you go.” She folds her arms loosely, then lets them drop again. “Extra hands also means I will not die quite as often, ideally. And I am sure everyone would appreciate far less complaining from me in the process.”

She attempts a laugh, but it comes out thin, her expression flickering in a way that does not quite match the humor of her words.

“In the meantime, Volaire’s baths aren’t terrible.” She waves one hand casually. “You could take Nill over there for a bit. I would recommend bringing your own soap though. Theirs is… adequate, I suppose, but nowhere near my standards.”
Nill tilts her head slightly.

“What is the bath being?”

Vesta places a hand dramatically over her chest and closes her eyes for a brief moment.
“Stars help this one…” she mutters in Tovi under her breath. Then she stands, brushing down the front of her skirts to collect herself.

“Well,” she says briskly, “If there’s nothing else pressing at the moment, I should really get to setting up camp properly here. There is quite a bit to do, chimes to hang, pillows to fluff, you know the routine.”

Read More...

As they speak about her, Nill’s attention slowly drifts inward. She stops poking at the chair and looks down at herself instead. Her fingers comb through her hair, tugging at tangled strands. She turns her hands over, examining her nails, and brushes at her sleeves, at the worn fabric along her arms. Then she twists slightly, glancing over her shoulder at the back of her shirt where two ragged holes have been worn through the fabric. She shrugs.

Across the table, Vesta sets her cup down carefully. Without comment, she rises and moves to a nearby cabinet, retrieving several pouches. She returns to her seat, pressing a quick kiss to Tristan’s cheek before settling back into place.

From her rune bag, she draws three stones. She lays them out in a neat row on the table. 
Vesta frowns.  “Well, that’s…” She lets out a small, awkward laugh. “Shadow, confusion, moon. All three represent hidden things. Unknown information. Obscured paths.” She exhales softly. “I suppose that means we don’t really have a choice.”

She looks up at Nill, then extends her hand across the table.

“May I see your hand? This will not hurt you, I promise.”

Nill studies her own small hand first, then flicks a glance towards Storm, searching for reassurance. After, she carefully places her hand atop Vesta’s.

Vesta does not speak again, and closes her eyes. Her shoulders stiffen, and after several long seconds, she inhales sharply and opens her eyes, blinking a few times. She releases Nill’s hand.

Nill tilts her head, studying Vesta’s face with quiet intensity.

“I kept the question vague,” Vesta says slowly. “But the vision was clear. Clearer than I expected, to be honest.” She shrugs. “I see you fighting with us. Around Volaire, in the amphitheater. Monsters, undead, people, Fae.” She pauses, processing. “It is evident that you join us. As for whether the Fae will come after you specifically…”

She reaches for the second pouch.

“I am going to try something else,” she explains. “It shouldn’t place a target on my back, as I’m not scrying directly. But I would like to know if they intend to pursue her.”

Vesta selects five bones from the bag and cups them in her hand. After a brief moment of focus, she casts them onto the table. They scatter softly. Only one bone crosses over another. Studying this, Vesta taps her chin, thoughtful.

Nill leans forward, peering at the pattern with curious fascination. “So… yes, but it’s not a very strong yes…” Vesta murmurs. “If more bones were crossed, I would be concerned.” She runs her fingers over the bones. “I wouldn’t discredit the possibility of the Fae coming after her. However, it does not appear to be urgent.”

She gathers the bones and returns them to their bag, setting both pouches aside before reclaiming her tea.

“Perhaps it will be a matter of them pursuing Nill only once she is discovered?”

Her eyes lift up to Storm.

“This method isn’t always accurate. The future shifts. Information changes based on choice and action. I’d take it as a warning, not a verdict.” Then, she turns to Nill. “You should avoid drawing attention to yourself, if you can.” Nill nods once.

“I am being used to the hiding. And the escaping.” Both Nill and Vesta silently look to Storm.

Read More...

Nill watches Storm carefully, and when she lifts her cup, Nill does the same. When Storm tilts it to her lips, she mirrors the motion exactly. She takes a full sip, but finding it too hot, immediately sets the cup back down on the table, her wings twitching with distaste.  “You’re meant to let it cool.” Vesta says gently, but Nill has already moved on.  Vesta cradles her own cup in both hands, staring into it for a long moment, thinking.

“Hmm… Perhaps if I just looked at her future in general, not focusing on the Fae, we could still see any potential dangers without inviting as much risk.” She taps her thumb lightly against the porcelain. “I can also use other methods. They’re not as precise as scrying, but it’s better than nothing.” She sighs and tips her head back against Tristan’s shoulder for a moment, staring up at the ceiling.

“If she starts helping us with the amphitheater, we need to know whether we should brace for additional complications.”

Her head rolls to the side, and she studies Nill openly now, gaze sweeping from her tangled hair down to her worn clothing.

“She needs new clothes, too.” Vesta adds decisively. “Those are practically falling apart. She looks like she escaped slavery, which won’t do.”

Nill looks down at her clothes, examining the fabric.

“My clothes are having the bad?” Vesta nods once.

“Yes.” Her tone softens slightly. “Don’t worry. We will find you something suitable.” She gestures vaguely. “Perhaps some color? Jewel tones, maybe. Black is terribly depressing.”

Nill lifts her gaze.

“No. Black.” Vesta slowly turns her head towards Storm for assistance.

Read More...

Vesta sighs again, pressing her fingers more firmly to her temples this time. She leans subtly into Tristan, grounding herself, and squeezes his hand. 
=11pt“I’m sorry,” she murmurs. =11pt“She’s fine. I’m just… jumpier than usual.” She shakes her head. =11pt“Too much is happening right now.” If Nill reacts to that, it doesn’t show. She continues prodding at the chair with methodical curiosity, occasionally pausing to look up at Storm for reassurance.

Vesta watches her for a moment before speaking again, her tone gentler now, careful.

=11pt“Storm said you were… a slave?” She hesitates on the word. =11pt“Did they put those piercings in your face?”

Her gaze flicks to the metal set into Nill’s skin, and her brow furrows.

=11pt“I’m sure we could remove them, if you wanted. It wouldn’t be difficult.”

Nill finally turns away from the chair.

=11pt“No. The piercings are doing the controlling of emotions.”

Vesta frowns, confusion written across her face.

=11pt“Doesn’t that hurt? I can’t imagine it’s comfortable.” A pause. =11pt“Did you… did you do that to yourself, then?”

Nill does not answer. She simply turns back to the chair and resumes tracing the seams in the fabric.

The kettle begins to steam.

Vesta moves quickly to the stove, lifting the kettle and returning to the table. Steam curls upwards as she pours hot water into each waiting cup. =11pt“There we go,” she says, gesturing faintly. =11pt“Help yourselves.”

She returns the kettle to the stove and takes a seat beside Tristan. Leaning over, she adds two spoonfuls of sugar to her own cup, stirring it before lifting it to her lips and blowing gently across the surface. Her eyes move between Storm and Nill over the rim.
=11pt“Well, Storm,” she says carefully. =11pt“If you would like me to look into the future, I can certainly try.”

She sets the cup down again, fingers resting along the porcelain.

=11pt“To be honest… I am not entirely sure what the consequences would be if I did.”

Across the table, Nill studies the tea with wary fascination. She does not reach for her cup, just waits, watching Storm to imitate her movements.

Read More...

Nill shakes her head once.

=11pt“I do not have the knowing. I did not have the knowing that they were even doing the attacking until I was being here. In the material.”  Her gaze drifts downwards, hands hanging loosely by her sides.

=11pt“I am being unsure about doing the asking of Vesta.” Her wings flutter, restless. =11pt“I… have the wishing to. But it is not being yet. I must be having the way of paying back first. It is being significant, so I must be doing the paying back of the same.” Nill waits until Storm enters the vardo, then follows after her. Inside, Vesta is already moving about with familiar efficiency, setting a kettle over the small stove. The space smells of incense and vanilla. She arranges four cups neatly on the table, placing a bowl of sugar in the center and lining up spoons beside each cup with careful precision.

Nill pauses just inside the doorway, looking around, then she spots one of the cushioned chairs.

After a moment, she climbs into it, crouched on the seat, balancing on the balls of her feet. Her fingers trail over the upholstery, pressing into the fabric, fascinated by the texture. She pokes at the stitching, then traces along the wooden frame, then touches one of the small decorative metal tacks.

She recoils instantly, wings flaring in a sharp flutter as she jerks backwards, nearly toppling from the chair.

Vesta startles violently at the sudden movement, hand flying to her chest.

But Nill doesn’t cry out. She simply steadies herself and climbs back onto the chair again, this time crouching closer to the edge, careful and wary.

Vesta exhales slowly, pressing her palm briefly against her sternum to calm her racing pulse. Then, she moves to retrieve a plush blanket, draping it carefully over the back and arms of the chair, making sure the fabric fully covers the exposed metal. She smooths it down, checking the corners.

=11pt“I’m sorry. It’s the metal, isn’t it?” She offers a small, tentative smile. =11pt“I’m not used to hosting Fae.”
Nill watches her the entire time, face utterly blank. Once Vesta steps back, Nill leans forward again and resumes studying the chair, this time testing the blanketed surface with careful taps.

Vesta retreats until she stands near Tristan, waiting for the kettle to boil. Her posture is composed, but her fingers twist faintly in the fabric of her sleeve. Every few seconds, her eyes flick back to Nill, as if bracing for another sudden movement.

Read More...

Nill’s wings flutter once, uneasy.

Vesta, feeling the tension, reaches down and threads her fingers through Tristan’s, squeezing gently.

=11pt“Well,” she says lightly, =11pt“I could always try looking ahead. See if Nill’s presence is going to cause any… major incidents.”  She shrugs, then shifts her gaze to Nill.

=11pt“And perhaps Nill can help us understand why the Fae are attacking us in the first place. Saige asked me to look into it before, but I couldn’t see anything then.” A faint crease forms between her brows. =11pt“Maybe a direct connection would help.” She sighs and rubs at her temple.

=11pt“We really do need to get to the bottom of whatever is happening,” she murmurs.=11pt “But there’s too much going on right now. The famine takes priority.” For a moment, she looks overwhelmed, then straightens and claps her hands together, smiling again.

=11pt“How about some tea? I’m parched.” Nill tilts her head, blinking slowly.

=11pt“Tea?”

=11pt“Yes,” Vesta says, already turning towards the vardo. =11pt“Do you have a preference? I have several blends. Lavender, mint, black, and I even brought back a lovely cinnamon from Zinna’s clan.”

Nill’s wings twitch again.

=11pt“I do not have the knowing of what tea is being.”
Vesta pauses mid-step, blinking. Then, she turns her head slowly towards Storm, her expression tired.

=11pt“You really attract the strange ones, don’t you?”

Read More...

Nill retracts her hand and lets it fall back to her side, unbothered by the lack of response.


Vesta grimaces slightly at Storm’s questions and shifts closer to Tristan.

=11pt“Yes… well.” She exhales through her nose. =11pt“After the incident with the Baroness, I decided it would be best to take a break for a while. Put some distance between myself and…” she gestures vaguely towards the city. =11pt“All of this.”=11pt She hesitates, then glances back to Storm. =11pt“Were you looking for me? If so, I apologize. I sent a letter to Zuigrii informing him where I’d be if anyone needed me, but he’s always so busy. I suppose I should have informed you as well.”

Her hands move expressively as she speaks.

=11pt“I’ve been spending the past few months with my Queen and her clan. And staying with Tristan’s family as well. Just… decompressing.” =11pt Vesta lets out a soft, awkward chuckle, her shoulders drooping a bit. =11pt“Hero life just isn’t for me…” she admits quietly. =11pt“It’s too much sometimes.”=11pt
Nill’s head tilts as she looks between Storm, Vesta, and Tristan in turn, studying each reaction with unnerving focus. She doesn’t speak. She doesn’t blink. And the longer the silence stretches, the more Vesta shifts under the scrutiny.

Vesta leans towards Tristan, lowering her voice to a whisper and speaking in the Tovi tongue. =11pt“It’s honestly kind of freaking me out that her face hasn’t changed once this entire time…”

Straightening, she pastes on a smile and claps her hands together.

=11pt“But enough about that!” She beams at Nill, a little too brightly. =11pt“Nill, are you here to join our ragtag team and help solve the famine? Please say yes, I’m dying over here.”

Nill turns slightly and gestures towards Storm.

=11pt“I must be doing the paying back of Storm. So I will be doing the fighting. And the helping with the waking of Saige.” She shakes her head once. =11pt“You are having the dying? Do not.”

Vesta blinks.

=11pt“Oh- that’s… It’s just an expression. I’m not actually dying.” She drops her voice to a murmur. =11pt“Right now, anyway...” =11pt Her gaze returns to Storm, brow knitting with concern. =11pt“What exactly is the situation here? I’m a bit… confused.”

Read More...

Nill nods along as Storm explains. When she mentions the possibility of food, the pixie lifts her gaze to the draconian, tilting her head, expression perfectly flat.

=11pt“This place is having the strange…” Her attention drifts back to the vardo, grey eyes studying its occupants.=11pt “So she is being the seer. Interesting.” As they approach, Vesta smiles and nods a greeting to Storm.

=11pt“Hello, Storm. It’s been a while. I hope you’ve been well.” Her gaze flicks down to Nill, one brow arching with curiosity. =11pt“It seems you’ve brought a new friend.”

Nill performs her series of peculiar hand motions, then extends her palm towards Vesta, unwavering.

=11pt“I am calling myself Nill.” Vesta blinks. Her smile falters, and she frowns slightly.

=11pt“You are… calling yourself?” There’s a slight pause before she shakes her head, then dips into a practiced curtsy. =11pt“I am Vestarin Maireni Solsari.”
She makes no move to take Nill’s hand.

Nill simply turns to Tristan and repeats the same motions, her expression unchanging.

Read More...

Late one morning, Vesta’s vardo rolls up to one of Volaire’s gates, only to veer aside before reaching it. The driver guides it beneath the shade of a stand of trees, allowing the dappled light to flicker across the brightly painted wood.

Vesta hops down lightly, bells chiming as she hits the ground with practiced ease. She peeks into the vardo’s open door to murmur a few words to someone inside before turning back to the wagon. With efficient motions, she unhooks her grey horse, leading him a short distance away and securing the reins so he can rest.

When that’s done, Vesta straightens and plants her hands on her hips. Her gaze sweeps the area slowly: the gate, the road, the trees. She looks neither hurried nor hesitant, just watchful, taking the measure of the place before deciding her next move.

Read More...

=11pt“That does make things… difficult.” Vesta leans back in her seat, crossing her arms as her brow furrows. =11pt“Is there anything that mentions song? Or a grove?”

She lets out a frustrated sigh.

=11pt“Again, this was a shot in the dark, but I really don’t want to walk into this place blindly.”

She taps her nails lightly against her arm, then looks to them both.

=11pt“Any ideas? Perhaps reaching out to the one you speak of?”

Read More...

Vesta rises from her seat and dips into a curtsy, greeting them both with a warm smile. =11pt“I’m more than ready.” She says, her voice carrying an edge of anticipation. =11pt“I doubt we’ll find anything regarding the amphitheater, but it doesn’t hurt to check.”

Read More...

One warm afternoon, Vesta makes her way to the Seshtau embassy, intent on meeting with Jade to discuss the heroes’ journey to an ancient library, undertaken before her arrival in Volaire.

She steps through the portal from Umbris, the air shifting behind her as it closes. Her skirts rustle against the polished floor as she glides towards the waiting area, claiming a seat with quiet grace. With a practiced flick, she unfurls her fan, the soft fluttering easing the clinging heat as she settles in to wait.

Read More...