[DROP] ar hyd y nos

They come in their trickles and their couples, steps light as their hearts, to listen to her melody. But this is not a performance - she has not called so far to entertain, no. She has called for help.

The keen eyed will notice a shadow drop behind the waterfall and into the deep depths of the pool, where the red algae shines dark in the light of the stars. Still the melody does not stop, as if the water means nothing to the voice that owns it.

Slowly she stands, supported by the crimson mosses to emerge at her waist within the Crimson Cataract - Undine, a siren of the Stonesong. With the hourglass body of a human woman and the glittering scales of the most beautiful goldfish in the river, her webbed fingers stroke at the water, and her head tilts back to serenade the moon.

All is not well, however. Her scales are blackened in places, and she is thin and weak. An inky liquid seeps from eyes that once shone like sapphires. Beneath the waters the algae, too, is blighted, and that infection has spread to this most elusive of creatures.

You have been called to bear witness to this last song.

What will you do?

---

You have 48 hours to respond.

Coding base by Sky!

Deimos It should’ve just been a coming together – songs over the horizon, restless sonnets in the din, against the waterfall and its current, alive, justice in something, in something beyond those vacant halls and endless canopies. Amalia rested on his shoulder, and their little group hadn’t been scattered amidst the pits and pendulums, safe, secure. But it was not to be, because nothing ever was here - the Undine rose from the crimson pool, a siren carved in scales, perhaps a mermaid lost on her way to the sea. Where Deimos might not have noticed the blackened scales against the outline of silhouettes, the cool rush of night, Zuriel’s keen gaze lingered on the patches of sickness, on the swell of fatigue, on the rush of another blighted figure. Unwell, she curled into their connection, and the Reaper sighed. Again; again they would have to face a creature dying, fading, and he couldn’t say anything to the owl on his shoulder, couldn’t put it into words for her, not when she’d just lost the beast in the Spire. So he advanced again, Zuriel following, and as he edged closer to the pool, along the embankment, the unicorn nodded towards Undine, bent her head, her knees, alighted a regal nod, a bow, and then settled. Her call to the siren was soft, dulcet, a nicker, before her horn began to glow, an attempt to heal, an attempt to soothe, an attempt to assuage the aches and pains of more and more anguish. Out of sight and out of mind Make everything alright So let the sky and sea collide Just not in our lifetime

PETER

As more and more people followed the song to the red tinted clearing, Peter began to feel claustrophobic. He had never done well in crowds, had always simply endured them, but this was a situation he could leave. And leave he nearly did, until the figure of the Undine emerged from the water.

She was beautiful, but there was something wrong. Even from the distance he was at Peter could see it. For all he was ordered to be cruel, there was a great deal of empathy in him, and if he could help, he wanted to.

Instead of taking him away, Peters feet took him to the edge of the water, pushing past people like he scarcely noticed them. The water licked at his boots, drawing his eye away from the creature, and to his feet. He didn’t like water. Couldn’t swim. The thoughts only slowed him down long enough for Peter to toe out of his boots, and remove some of his heavier clothing.

The water was colder than he’d expected when he stepped into it, but he didn’t stop, wading out into the ruby pool until he was within arms reach of the sickly creature. His magic kept him supported, helping to compensate for his weak skills. Not wanting to interrupt her lament, he simply held a hand out, offering a silent support.

And oh, don’t you wanna love?
And don’t you wanna feel?
I remember, you were reckless, you were hungry
You were real

Jigano hopped closer to Kiada , rubbing his head against her side in encouragement for the journey she had undertaken, even as his song faltered at the sight of Rory below. He had not expected his lover to brave the Greatwood again, not after the last two times, and his heart ached for the hunter as the last of his notes fell away, leaving the siren to its song. At first he thought the man was enamored of the song, as the rest of them were, but he followed Rory's gaze to the waterfall just in time to catch the shadow that fell into the waters - and then rose from them, a creature of stunning beauty, marred with the blackened kiss of the blight.

The raven croaked a denial, blood running cold in spite of the beauty of her song. He dropped from the branch behind the tree, slipping into his human form as he landed in the protection of the shadows before stepping out to find Rory's side and twine their fingers together, needing the comfort of that touch for a moment as he remembered the fading of the Tulmhainar within the Spire. He shivered, despair tugging at his heart, and offered his friend a sad smile as he reached back into his bag, withdrawing the flute he carried most places and regaining his hand. He had no healing magic to offer, and it would take nothing less then magic to overcome the Blight upon her scales, even for a little while. Instead he offered what he could: music, the flute's quiet, rich tones extemporizing accompaniment for the tragic creature's song, weaving beneath her own notes in an attempt to enhance the glory of her voice.

Amalia

---

For my part, I know nothing with any certainty

It is sick.

Of course it is sick. What isn't, these days, the grip of darkness upon it all, a hand around the throat of Life, vile and black as sickening tar. Amalia has never seen an Undine, but she knows enough to know it should not be this, that the beauty is marred and the song mournful, morose; the girl's heart sinks and breaks at the sight, the tragedy which has befallen yet another part of the woods. Death and decay, ruin and disaster-

It isn't right. It isn't fair. And there is nothing she can do.

Jyoti croons her sympathy, starlight stream flowing through the water as she circles slowly about the Undine, trying to soothe, to comfort, to help. From Deimos' shoulder Amalia watches, owl eyes wide and blinking with sympathy, empathy, love. As the behemoth stops behind the water the girl slips from his shoulder, her talons becoming barren feet as they settle in the pool, a human taking form. She glances at Peter, who has done the same, nodding to the boy as her starmotes float around her.

With Jyoti continuing a mournful harmony Amalia begins to hum, hoping to ease the Undine's torment, to see what aid they could possibly give. She wishes - she wishes - Safrin were here, or Vi, and a quiet prayer is sent to them both, fervent and ardent in hopes they will care. Vi, Safrin, your child is sick. It is the blight, she knows it is, and anger squeezes at her chest. Please give us the strength and knowledge to help her.

To help them all.

but the sight of the stars makes me dream

Phoebe

A soft gasp escapes the midwife’s lips. Brown eyes widened, hands rising to cover her mouth as she gazes upon the blighted creature resplendent and ravaged by the illness she researched. Her eyes well with tears, knowing the inevitable, guilt weighing so heavy on her conscience that it could be seen in her expression and posture. She had yet to find a preventative measure to this sickness that plagued the Greatwood, and in her failure, creatures like the Undine suffered and died.

Pim, feeling Phoebe’s sudden sadness, let out a mournful roar squeak, rainbow electricity sparking near his jaws.

There was nothing she could do for this creature. There was no comfort, no cure, no measures to take to reverse the inevitable. ”I am so sorry I am too late.” she said quietly, her voice strained, guilt and sadness coloring every word. ”I will find a way to prevent this, I will make sure your kin do not suffer so. I promise.” she said, feeling it the only recompense she has to offer the dying creature.

Without warning her knees give out and Phoebe finds herself kneeling at the water’s edge, clasping her hands in front of her. She does the only thing she knows to do anymore in times of such desperation, when her heart is caught between hopelessness and the fiery will to change what is. ”Rae, Frey, please guide me, grant me the knowledge I seek to strengthen these woods and its creatures, so that this suffering might end – so they can thrive. I beg you.” she prays, reverent and desperate. There may be no cure, so changing the course of life to death is beyond her reach. But to incite growth, evolution, ultimate change so that the blight cannot take hold of anything more is the way of the gods to which she prays. Pim joins in her ardent prayer as only a dragonling can, shooting a stream of rainbow colored lightning into the air, as if the signal might call the deity of nature to their very presence and intervene.

---

Phoebe is trying to channel Rae/Frey

The Honeysuckle Princess

Coding base by Sky!

MELITA

It was fading. It was dying.

Her heart hurt, pounding through her chest, alive and well, while the rest of this portion of the world seemed to fade to black. Why? She wanted to scream, some feral notes, some savage howls, why does this keep happening?, and maybe Delah was right. Maybe they were the blight in the realm, and their hands were too dirty, their sins too obvious, their greed too unrelenting.

She was useless. She didn’t have magic. She didn’t have any healing powers. She didn’t have any herbs. She didn’t have anything but her wishes and hopes and prayers and what did they amount to anymore? What did they matter, in the grand scheme of things?

But the bloodied water didn’t bother her. The youth slid across the top of the surface, bare feet across ichor red, the Naiad’s bracelet tucked along her ankle, carrying herself closer and closer, trying to hum the same tunes under her breath, trying to match pitch for pitch, sonnet for sonnet, so the realm wasn’t as bleak, wasn’t as wounding, wasn’t as sorrowful. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered as she drew nearer, because she was, she was. Melita was sorry she was useless. Melita was sorry she was nothing. Melita was sorry for so many things, all at once, intertwined and sorrowful. Ludo, she wondered, she tried, she called, the keeper of death throngs and knells. Could you help it?

This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight

say it's here where our pieces fall in place

Tugging in a breath at the sight of the Undine, Remi moved a hair closer to Ronin, tilting his head slightly towards the other man. "Is that..." His eyes narrowed slightly, unable to truly make out the creature, his eyesight being what it was. "What exactly am I looking at?"

But Isla was not hindered by the alchemist's blindsight. She could see the marks of sickness and disease quite easily. She could also see the other unicorn. Having slipped more into the mind of the body she was contained in, being more unicorn than medic now, Isla cocked a speculative ear towards the other equine, stepping through the tender shoots of grass and moss to stand astride her darkened counterpart. Nostrils flared slightly, Isla turned her pebble-blue gaze towards the creature as well. Neck arched just as Zuriel's was, healing light poured from Isla's horn towards the Undine as well.

"I feel properly useless, how about you?" Remi whispered to Ronin, watching the unicorns heal, hearing the various prayers, and having absolutely nothing he felt he could contribute. Then, thinking more about some of the symptoms Ronin had been describing lately, nudged the hunter gently. "Do you feel alright?"

---

Isla tries to heal as well!

there is always hope

"She's beautiful," Ronin whispered back to Remi, his arm winding around the alchemist's waist to draw him a little closer, as if to comfort himself. "A creature of the water, like a mermaid... or a water nymph, or something. But she's not well... dying, I think."

And it pulled at him to feel so useless, as Remi had stated, and Ronin could do little more than watch the others and add his own silent prayer... not that it could go to anyone. It would be cruel to even petition Safrin here and now. As for how he was feeling, he shrugged. "I haven't felt right since what happened at the Spire with the tulmhainar," he muttered. "I feel better than this creature does though, I'd wager."

JIAO

Jiao watched, perched on a rock on the edge of the water, distanced from the humans that had crowded around her. They didn't understand this as well as her, she thought; this was not their woods, their home, not the creatures and legends they had grown up with. As she saw the siren lean out (and raised a troubled hand to her mouth, covering her gasp) she felt that she had to do something.

It was clearly a song of death, of the end. There was likely no chance for the creature, if she was so solemn as to sing for her own demise, so Jiao would not try to save her.

Instead, she took the shawl off her shoulders - green and gold, dyed with beautiful subtle hues and embroidered with the most delicate flowers - and floated over the water to Undine. When she was close she draped the cloth gently over her shoulders, hoping to help her feel a little warmer, a little more cared for and dignified, in her last moments.

Surprisingly quiet and reflective, Jiao then returned to her rock and watched, knees drawn up and eyes full of something not quite fear.

Leave all of my regrets to sink like shipwrecks
Through oceans dark

BASTIEN

When the identity of the singer was revealed, Bastien raised his eyebrows and whispered: "Una sirena..." and did not move, unable to do anything other than stare. At first he did not even notice her sorrow or her physical markings, moved to be simply seeing her at all. That still this world could surprise him was bothing terrifying and wonderful.

After a moment he heard Jigano begin to play along to the song. It seemed a good idea, to join in; it was the only thing he could do with any confidence.

Softly, gently, Bastien walked forward and began to sing too, soft backing vocals to her song, no real words but emotion plenty. He sang for his lost home, for Undines pain and for the cracked Hollowed Grounds.

We're aware they're trying to take away our dreams

RORY

Was this what the world was like? His entire life, lived in a withering snow-globe wasteland, thinking that the forests around his farm were lush and alive and vibrant, that the creek meandering through the copse was sparkling and blue—brown, all of it, compared to this star-washed beauty.

And that something so fierce, so feral, so terrifying and powerful and majestic could exist: it was daunting and humbling and absolutely mind-blowing. Rory's distracted eyes barely registered the shadow falling behind the sheets of water, too busy trying to track the trajectory of each droplet—

What was he doing, on his dusty, barren farm? Life was out here—

(Respecting the Fae's home, for one. Remaining loyal to his birthplace and heritage, for another. And due to the first, no other options remained.)

Then a creature broke through the red pool's surface, just as haunting and beautiful as her song, and in a different time, perhaps as fierce as the waterfall behind her. Now, though, she just seemed.. sad. Lesser. Broken. Rory reluctantly switched his focus to her, taking in the outline of ribs and hips beneath the glittering scales—and the black rot she wept, like inky tears.

Within, that silent, aching howl turned into a scream.

The song swelled around him, and others moved, called to action by the sight. "Oh," Rory breathed as he watched: unicorns with their magic, star motes, harmonies to resonate with her song. "A swan song." His fingers folded around the hand in his, his heart aching, tears—transparent and cleansing, so different from the black of hers—forming in the corners of his eyes.

It was not okay. His gaze flicked into the pool, and he saw dark patches among the red. Dying, just like the trees around them. Dying, just like Undine.

He fixed his summer sky eyes on her, his voice directed at her, but soft all the same. "Would a change of habitat, to one uninfected, allow you to heal? Can we bring you anything, like food? Do you need warmth?" He assumed she was bred for the cool environment of this red pool, but disease changed one's needs—and if hugging a blighted mercreature to keep her warm as she either lived or died was what required of him, he'd do it. He knew about as much as anyone about the blight, but seeing it like this...

He wanted to stop it.

[ Rory asks her some things and offers her hugs. ]

as if you were on fire from within,
the moon lives in the lining of your skin.

As the creature is revealed, Kiada feels entirely useless as others have so much to offer. Deimos and Remi offer the help of their unicorns, and others their words and songs. She also listens as Jigano pulls out his flute and adds in with the song, some others singing too with her. It feels so wrong, so many to watch this beautiful creature die a terrible death, and all those gathered have to offer are words and sad songs of sorrows. She frowns as she looks upon it, not having realized that Auni had waited on the outside of the Greatwoods in case Kiada should come back home he’d be waiting for her. At the music and gathering, he follows some others to the gathering, approaching quietly until his antlered head knocks into Kiada’s knees. His pale gaze lifting up toward Kiada with a small grunt of sorrow and sadness, before Kiada nods to him. He meanders past her, stepping up beside the unicorns, his antlers shining a gentle golden glow toward the creature. He was born to give light in the darkness, to repel the sickness and dark, terrible things. He hopes with his help too, it’s enough to push away the blight. Kiada moves slightly closer, but Auni appears and approaches the creature to offer the comfort of his glowing antlers in accompaniment with the Unicorn’s healing! KiadA do not think you are safe because you love her do not think she will not stain her mouth red with your blood too.

coding

REXANNA

FOR A TIME IT SEEMED TO ME,

THAT WE WERE STARLIGHT-TOUCHED.

FAILING TO REALIZE THAT WE WERE STARCROSSED,

She watches as the creature is revealed, her eyes wide and sad as she gazes upon the beautiful creature. But when Bastien speaks of what it is in his tongue, she can make out part of it. “Sirena”, so close to the term she had been called once upon a time. And she looks upon this beautiful, stunning creature with gold scales among the crimson waters, and she wonders if she can do anything at all. Jigano begins to play music with the song, and Rexanna finds even more sorrow work its way into her heart.

But then Bastien is singing, stepping forward to accompany the creature, and she wonders if perhaps she just didn’t want to be alone. She watches everyone else approach, the creatures like Isla and Auni stepping to the waters edge, and others offering comfort and soft words, and she feels completely useless. There’s nothing she can do, and she follows Bastien on quiet feet toward the water’s edge to look toward the Undine and the sky with the pain that the creature must be feeling.

How terribly sad.

THE STARS WERE

NEVER

ON OUR SIDE.