As the others respond, Diego lingers near the table. His fingers drift lightly over the edge of the pages, not flipping them, but tracing the shape of a line — as if listening more than reading. He frowns thoughtfully at Shenua’s question.
“No,” he says quietly, almost to himself, “not stupid. Because if they really did appear … why now? Why us?”
He doesn’t elaborate. But as the others begin to follow Lirae, he carefully closes one of the volumes — the one Iromae had begun reading — and touches Shenua with it, causing her to turn around.
“Take it,” he says without making eye contact. “If they came with us, maybe they were meant to go with us.”
Then, only half-joking, he adds, “I’ll take the heat if it gets us in trouble. It's practically my job, isn't it?”
The narrow passage behind the shelf is cloaked in cool, unmoving air, dustless and quiet. Lirae does not look back to see if you follow — she simply walks with confident steps, long sleeves brushing the carved stone walls as she leads you forward.
After a few winding turns through what feels like long-abandoned halls, she stops at a plain wooden door reinforced with iron. Her gloved hand lifts, and she traces something in the air — a quiet flicker of silver threads trailing behind her finger. The faint scent of ozone pricks your noses as the arcane sigil embedded in the wood pulses once and vanishes.
She opens the door.
The chamber beyond is small — perhaps once a reading room or office — but now repurposed into something clearly more private. A desk. Two chairs. A lantern fueled by steady white flame. Papers scattered in neatly organized piles. Shelves that hold no books, but instead case after case of blank scrolls and empty vials. A half-covered chalkboard shows diagrams in progress — one of which you recognize as the same stylized loom rune from the leyline chamber far below the old Guild.
Lirae gestures for you to sit if you wish. She doesn’t.
“You have a many questions,” she repeats Vorenus, her voice still measured but no longer sharp. “And perhaps I can answer some of them. But I have questions of my own as well — and your presence here is more complicated than you realize.”
She studies each of you for a moment, then settles her gaze on the book Shenua carries.
“You shouldn’t have been able to touch that. Or see it. That tome and its companions are — were — hidden beyond what the Spire should allow. But I believe you … loosened something.”
Her eyes narrow slightly.
“The thread you found. It’s real, isn’t it?”
She doesn't wait for a full answer.
“Then something has changed. And I suspect I know who caused it.”
She crosses to the chalkboard, lifts the edge of the drape, and reveals a faintly drawn sigil — a circle of runes woven through with a pattern of five lines, each touching the center but not one another. Each end terminates in a faint glyph. At the far left: a quill. Then a tuning fork. Then a baton. Then a needle.
Then, at the far right, an empty space. No glyph.
“Five were required. But only four remained.”
She turns back to you.
“I need to know how you got here. All of you.”
She pauses.
“And I need to know if you remember … who wasn’t.”
"Wow. You seem to have as many questions as we do, Lirae," Iromae begins once they reach the room. "Who are you though? You seem to know much. I would not have imagined finding someone like you in this place."
She paces a bit, trying to organize her thoughts. "I'll answer one of your questions. But I hope you will answer mine. We do remeber our fifth friend. But we have not found them yet. We know the name though." She pauses. "But is it safe to say it here?"
Stopping her pacing, she again focuses on Lirae. "And we did find a chamber with a thread. You know what it is."
She then shakes her head. "If our presence has somehow revealed things, I'm not sure how. The whole area though as we approached this building seemed... odd. Like the rest of the world had been repainted but this little corner had gotten lost and overlooked."
Vorenus is taking this all in, tapping his chin. He thinks to himself, “One side is going to have to take a chance. To step forward, in faith. This is our opportunity, we need to be bold..”. He hears Iromae countering with questions. “Let’s get to the real issue…” he thinks.
“Lirae. Some of the things I say may shock you. Or not. I hope you are .. well.. maybe not a friend yet, but at least on the same “side” we are. Seeing things the same way we are. If we are to gain anything, there needs to be some trust. Some faith. So we hope that by sharing our thoughts with you, that you are not some agent of the government, the White Flame who would try to lock us up for a hundred billion years.” He watches her face as he says these things, giving pause to saying more if he gets any strange feeling. Insight : 3. Totally trusts her.
“What if I said to you.. that we were not from this time line. From this place. For, in our Suzail, we are very near where there was an academy of the arcane arts. Where learning about them was celebrated, encouraged. What would you say to that? That we have, essentially, traveled here through time and space and realities to this very spot, called here, really. Do you know of any such things? Have you ever heard of such?” He waits to see her reaction, watching Iromae, Shenua, and Diego out of the corner of his eyes.
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A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
"Thank you," Shenua says sincerely after Diego reassures her that her question wasn't stupid. When he touches her with the book, she takes it without hesitation, nodding. "Better leave the heat to me. Hellish resistance, remember?" she adds with a small smile.
As they follow Lirae, Shenua watches the woman's every move in silence, taking careful note of anything she does related to the arcane — driven, as always, by her analytical and curious nature. Once inside the small office, her eyes sweep over the space with subtle appreciation. The tidy organization earns an approving glance, though her gaze lingers on the half-covered chalkboard even before Lirae unveils it. Manners win out over impulse, and she doesn't inspect it too closely — but she can't help asking, "Was it you who added the diagram onto 'The Amarinth Addendum', then?"
She doesn't press further. Iromae and Vorenus have taken the lead in questioning, and for now, that feels right. She nods at Iromae's words — cautious, as they should be — and does that again when Vorenus decides to reveal where (when?) they come from. Someone had to take the first step, and since Lirae held the answers, offering trust seemed the logical move.
While they wait for a response, Shenua glances down at the book in her hands. She flips through it in quick strokes — the beginning, the middle, the end — her turquoise-on-black eyes scanning for anything legible. Iromae hadn't been able to read it, had she? If the text still resists, Shenua lifts her gaze and interjects, “Why were we able to read the newest book, while this one is unreadable? Aren't they all protected by magic? Did something stop this one from being protected?"
The heavy door closes behind you with a soft thud, shutting out the eerie quiet of the South Archive’s main hall. The space within is just large enough to accommodate your group comfortably, though Lirae remains near the chalkboard, her fingers still resting lightly against the corner where she unveiled it.
The chalkwork diagram is intricate — not arcane exactly, but geometrical and symbolic. Interlocking circles, arcs traced in layered chalks, lines that intersect and pull apart. At its heart is a small threadlike sigil — a loop broken in two places — the same symbol found etched into the newest volume.
Lirae exhales slowly, and it’s clear she’s trying to decide how much to say.
“You’re right,” she says to Shenua. “It was me who added the final diagram. But it wasn’t my design. It came to me in a dream. Or something like one. And I didn’t understand it — not until I saw your tools, sketched there in the margins. I didn’t know what they were until I saw them on you.”
She folds her arms, leaning against the wall. Despite her calm posture, there’s an alertness to her movements. She’s watching you carefully.
At Iromae’s mention of the thread chamber, Lirae lifts her chin. “Then it’s real. I’ve spent years believing it must be, but the only person who ever spoke of it vanished before I could ask how to find it.” A beat. “Or was removed.”
Vorenus’ declaration draws her full attention. There’s a flicker in her expression — astonishment, yes, but not disbelief. She listens quietly, and when he finishes, she says: “That’s … more plausible than I’d like to admit. I’ve studied records. Places where two versions of history seem to overlay — but only faintly. Like something was smoothed over. Like the page was rewritten.”
She gestures to the chalkboard. “This,” she says, “I believe, is a map. Not of roads or land. Of threads. Realities. Or fates, maybe. But if I’m right, then yours should have been unreachable. A sealed rupture doesn’t open on its own. Which means something broke the seal — or someone did.”
She turns to Iromae. “You’re correct about the city’s edge. The White Flame didn’t erase everything. It simply drew a new outline. The parts outside the circle were left behind — and the South Archive is outside.”
At last, she returns to your earlier questions.
“My name is Lirae Halcaryn. And yes, I know the name you’re all avoiding.” Her gaze sharpens. “If you remember your fifth friend — and you’re here now — then that seal is truly breaking. You’ve done more than stumble into this plane. You’ve begun to pull it open.”
Finally, she gestures to the book in Shenua’s hands. “That volume is an older work. Protected more thoroughly — and not by me. That’s her warding. Your presence must have stirred the newer ones free, but that one’s still locked. If you can’t read it, it means the ward doesn’t recognize you.”
She lets that sit in the air a moment.
“If you want to speak to her,” Lirae says softly, “you’ll need more than boldness and charm. You’ll need access.”
She folds her arms again. “So tell me. What are you planning to do?”
Iromae still isn't quite sure who this Lirae Halcaryn is, but she seems to be on their side in this. "Our plan was to use the upcoming masquerade to try to get that chance to speak.' She frowns a tiny bit as she says this, "The biggest hurdle is how to get an invitation. I guess we were thinking of trying to... well, steal one from someone else."
As she speaks though her attention is drawn more and more to the chalkboard and its drawings. She starts to examine the diagrams of this 'map of threads'. "Hmm, a thread broken in two places. I wonder if that is the current situation or a future? That thread we saw in the chamber seemed to be very firmly intact for now. Or is that holding the thread that is broken?" She shakes her head, "Too many questions still." She then goes quiet as she starts to try to comprehend what this board might be showing. (Arcana: 22)
Vorenus crosses his arms, he's been examining the chalkboard and the symbols, the patterns, trying to commit them all to memory, to see if they awaken anything in his mind. Then he locks eyes with Lirae, convinced that this is no time for dissemblance or half-truths, that sharing of information is needed, critical at this time. If they have any hope to succeed.
"The name that remains unsaid is Kalis. Kalis Amarinth. Do you know her? What do you know of her? Yes, we need access. We need a way to speak to her and find out what must be done. There was talk, in our time, in our space, of a thread that was broken. Of a thread that needed repair. We don't know how to do that.. what it involves, or where. We believe we have instruments to accomplish this, but we need our fifth... Kalis. But much has been hidden from us, lost in our memory, in our mind - Kalis will know critical information of how things can be set aright. For our timeline, and this one. We need to know how to reach her and anything that you know that could help us." Vorenus looks stern, a more serious look on his face than you've seen in a long time...
"Now. Time is of the essence."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
Shenuais about to turn her attention to the chalkboard, like Vorenus and Iromae, but then something Lirae says catches her off guard. Her head snaps toward the other woman.
“It was me who added the final diagram. But it wasn’t my design. It came to me in a dream. Or something like one. And I didn’t understand it — not until I saw your tools, sketched there in the margins. I didn’t know what they were until I saw them on you.”
"You've seen our tools on us?", the tiefling asks. We haven't had them on for hours. How long has this woman been watching us? Does she know we left them back in the safe room?
Deflecting — for the moment — to another line of questioning, she says, "Can you tell us how the magic ban is enforced here? I was under the impression that even the simplest cantrip could be detected — and magic items too. But you seem to be using magic freely, so maybe that’s not the case? Granted, this part of town does feel a bit too forgotten. But..."
She trails off. If Lirae saw their tools, it must have been back in the streets of Suzail proper — not here, not in this neglected corner of the city. Still, she presses on. "Can you shed some light on this? It would help to know how things actually work."
(ooc: Not sure if I got this right. If I didn't, I can edit this first part of the post. If I did, can I get an insight check on her reaction? Okay, nope. 6).
Now that Lirae knows they intend to attend the masquerade, Shenua adds, "Do you have any recommendations about the masquerade? I don't just mean how to get access — I mean how to act once we're there. We're assuming we'll need to blend in like legitimate guests, and that means understanding how the city works. The gossip. The etiquette. Who to speak to. The kind of things a real guest would know."
Then, regarding Kalis, she adds, rather bluntly, "What's wrong with Kalis? Why are people so reluctant to say the name? It's one thing for the librarian at the Lower Registry to avoid it, but you as well?"She raises am eyebrow, clearly finding the pattern strange.
Lirae listens with an intensity that borders on reverence, eyes flicking from Vorenus to Iromae, then to Shenua. She doesn’t interrupt, but when Vorenus speaks Kalis’s name aloud, her breath catches.
There is no explosion of magic. No alarms. No guards pouring in through secret doors.
But the room itself seems to grow quieter. Still, almost reverently so.
“I feared it,” she says at last. “And hoped it. You do remember her.”
She steps to the chalkboard, gesturing toward the looped thread diagram — the one marked by two interruptions along the line. Her fingertip hovers just short of the chalk. “This,” she says to Iromae, “is not the future. Not exactly. It’s the now. This was drawn the morning after your arrival. Before I even knew who had crossed over. I felt it. The shift. And then … I dreamed this.”
Her voice is steady, but there’s a slight quiver beneath it. “You said you saw a chamber. The thread. That was the first break. Kalis’s disappearance was the second. But she didn’t vanish — not truly. She is here, yes. But her presence — and yours — are out of step with the Weave. You were not meant to be apart.”
She turns to Shenua next, her expression softening. “Yes. I saw your tools, once. But not on you. I saw them through another’s eyes — as if I were looking at you, not as you. I don’t know how. It was like remembering a story I’ve never lived. A line in the tapestry suddenly revealed.”
She offers a faint, apologetic shrug. “As for your question … Magic is not detectable in the sense of an omniscient force. There are sensors — placed in certain locations, particularly around the Crown Spire and palace. But otherwise, the ban is enforced through fear and law. People believe they’ll be caught. That belief keeps them in check. And the occasional public example ensures it.”
Lirae moves behind the desk and carefully opens a side drawer. She retrieves a slim brass key and slides it across the surface toward Vorenus. “This opens the south crawl entrance of the Feathered Silence. No guests enter that way — only workers. You’ll find a dressing room beyond it. Use it before the masquerade. I can’t get you masks or invitations, but I can get you inside if you can't secure invitations yourselves.”
Finally, she addresses the last question — the one Shenua asked directly.
“What’s wrong with Kalis?” she repeats softly. “Nothing. But if the Royal Family believes the city’s power flows from their blood, how do you explain the truth?”
Her voice is low, but clear.
“Kalis Amarinth is the only source of magic in the Crown. They parade it as their own. But not a single royal can so much as light a candle. She is their magic — and she is kept close for that reason.”
Lirae lets the weight of it hang for a moment.
“She can’t defy them openly. Not without risking her own life — or worse, the entire illusion that’s kept the peace here for decades. You asked why her name is spoken in whispers?” She looks back to them, something mournful behind her eyes. “Because if they ever suspect she’s more than a tool … she will vanish again. This time for good.”
Vorenus reaches across the desk and takes the brass key, putting it in his pocket. He locks eyes with Lirae, listening to the backup plan, making notes in his mind. When she starts to give more details about Kalis, his mouth comes open. It seems worse than he imagined. Intolerable. They must be rejoined, to hell with what happens to the Crown.
"How many? How many are left? Do you have any idea how many skulk around in silence, afraid of being caught? How many can do magic... but keep it hidden? I want to know what will be arrayed against us, if they have these "sensors" in the area where we will be, or any ... I don't know ..."anti-magic fields" set up to prevent anyone else from using magic in this place, in the area where we will find Kalis? What are we walking into, do you have any idea?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
Shenua opens her mouth to reply, but once again, it's Vorenus' reaction that draws her focus first. His words — and the intensity behind them — catch her off guard, not just because she didn't expect it from him, but because he's managed to voice the very sentiment she would have expressed herself.
She turns to the sorcerer and says quietly, "You're right to be angry, Vorenus. I'm just as furious. We'll fix this. We'll help them all," placing a gentle hand on his shoulder — a quiet gesture of solidarity, but also an invitation for him to steady himself. No matter what's happening, they need to stay calm and focused right now.
The tiefling then withdraws her hand, and turns to Lirae. "The sensors — have you seen them yourself? Could you describe them for us?"
As she speaks, she reaches for a blank parchment and a quill, pausing just long enough to silently ask Lirae's permission before picking them up. She sets herself to sketching. "What's their shape? Approximate size? Do you have any idea what materials they might be made of?"
If Lirae is able to offer a description, Shenua listens intently, asking follow-up questions and refining the sketch until it's as close to accurate as she can manage. When she finishes, she holds the parchment up for the others to see.
"Something like this, then?" She pauses, considering the image. "If we know what they look like, maybe we can locate one. Study it. Possibly even override it. I don't know if it's possible. But we definitely won't know unless we try."
When she’s done, she nods in thanks as Lirae slides the key across the desk. "This will help." Then, more thoughtfully: "There's a real chance Kalis will be at the masquerade? Or at least that it's happening in the same building where she's being kept, right?" She looks to Vorenus, Iromae, and Diego. "It's a risk. But if there's even a chance we'll see her... the tools need to be with us. What do you think?"
Iromae stares at Lirae more and more intently as she continues to speak. "Who are you?"she asks when the woman finishes speaking. "You are saying that when Kalis disappeared to us, that is when she appeared here? Who are you to know that?" She glances around to her friends, then back to Lirae. "You dreamed of the second break in the thread. You dreamed of the tools that we carry. Why did you dream these things?"
She listens as she describes the situation Kalis is in. "I get it that Kalis is in a very precarious situation. But you said if they - the royals I presume - suspect Kalis, they will make her disappear. As in disappear the same way she did to us before? Are you implying that these people that don't even have the magical power to light a candle, somehow understand how to do whatever it is that caused her to come her in the first place? Or do you just mean that they will kill her?"
Finally, Iromae pauses. "But again, most importantly - who are you? I don't understand how you know any of this. Or why you are here telling us!"
Vorenus glances over at Iromae, eyes flashing, his right foot steps backward, he stands in a defensive stance, forearms coming up at his sides. "Right you are, Iromae. So eager was I to see hope and a way forward, that I looked past that obvious hole in this. Who the hell are you? How do you know all of this? You had better explain yourself right now, how you come by this knowledge, how you know about us. Fill in the gaps. Now." Vorenus look of eager interest and ire has now shifted to Lirae, feeling that they could be led down a false path in their zeal to find Kalis. He has a fearsome look on his face as he stares intently at her, all business now.
Shenua rolls her eyes as she is completely ignored by Vorenus, who decides—along with Iromae—to confront the only person actually capable of helping them.
With a huff, she sits down, fidgeting with the quill in her fingers as she silently waits for the scene to unfold.
Lirae doesn't flinch under the barrage of questions.
Her gaze meets Iromae's first, steady and without offense. "You're right to question me. I would, in your place. But I’ve told you the truth as best I understand it. Yes — I believe Kalis appeared here when she vanished from your world. And yes, I dreamed the broken thread. I dreamed the tools. Not symbols — your tools. Yours. And not because I am some divine prophet."
She crosses to the chalkboard again, this time running a palm gently across the lower edge of the thread map. Chalk dust smudges faintly under her fingers.
“I dreamed them because I was called. Because the seal that once kept this place isolated — ruptured. You caused it. Or perhaps, you fulfilled something that was already set in motion long ago. I felt it break the moment you arrived.”
She turns to Shenua then, gratefully shifting to the calmer, more precise topic of sensors. She nods for the tiefling to use the parchment and quill.
"They're small. Usually affixed to metal lamp brackets or stone corners. About this size —" she shapes a small square between her fingers, roughly three inches wide. “Hexagonal. Warded, but not independently powered. They draw from a fixed node in the Crown Spire. And yes, they detect a wide range of magic — especially arcane. I don’t know if they can sense divine items. They were designed to root out spellwork, not faith.”
She kneels beside the small trunk in the corner and lifts the lid. Inside are several bundles of charcoal, spare cloth, and a neatly wrapped wax-sealed envelope. But she removes none of them — just gestures to the small collection as evidence of her preparation.
To Vorenus, she says with more gravity, “If I knew how many were hiding their magic … I’d count myself first. There are others. But most live in fear — or in silence. Or have convinced themselves this is normal. The masquerade is not a battlefield, but it is a crucible. The Crown will be watching. So will the Advisor. Kalis should attend. And if not, she will be close. That’s why I’m helping you get in.”
She straightens again, brushing dust from her sleeves. “I’ve spoken too plainly to be working for the Crown. If I were with them, you’d be bound and questioned already.”
Her eyes settle on Iromae once more. Then Vorenus.
“Who am I?” she asks softly.
Then, finally, she gives the name.
“My name is Lirae Endarel. Daughter of Mirkhen and Sylra Endarel. Former scribe of the Royal Research College. Scholar of Chronoweave and Weft disruption. I was with Kalis the day she vanished.”
She doesn’t elaborate — not yet — but the way her jaw tightens makes it clear: whatever happened that day marked her deeply.
“And I’ve been trying to find her ever since.”
Diego, for his part, has remained quiet. He stands apart from the others — not out of disinterest, but with an oddly distant attentiveness. One might even say detached. He watches Lirae, then the chalkboard, then back again.
As the others press her, his voice cuts in — soft, but not uncertain.
“If she’s telling the truth …” he says slowly, “then this all started long before we walked into that thread chamber. If her dreams began with Kalis’s disappearance, then our arrival didn’t cause the break. We just followed it.”
He glances at Shenua’s sketch of the sensor, giving a slight nod. “We might not need to override it. Just avoid it.”
Then, with an almost unreadable look at Iromae, he adds: “But if we’re going into the masquerade with those tools … then we’ll need to be very careful. Because someone else might be dreaming now. And not all dreams are helpful.”
He doesn’t explain what he means.
For Shenua:
As soon as she says her name, you recall that in the Southern Addendum, one of the later entries mentioned an “L. Endarel” as a dissenting voice — someone who questioned the consolidation of magical authority under the White Flame Accord.
The mention was brief: no title, no rank, just the name and a note that their warnings were “archived for record and counterpoint.”
You realize this may be the same person — Lirae Endarel. It certainly fits, especially if Lirae has been hiding, perhaps driven underground or erased from official record.
Iromae tries to recall if she knows the name Lirae Endarel or Mirkhen and Sylra Endarel. Was she the scribe of the Royal Research College in their original world? (History if needed: 8)
She also wonders how Lirae could have been with Kalis when she 'disappeared'. 'Wouldn't we have been there with her? Didn't we all decide to... do whatever it was we did. I guess we still aren't remembering everything.'
"Thank you for your name," Iromae says. "You say you have been looking for Kalis since she disappeared. Does this mean you have not spoken with her? Have you seen her? Did you just recently arrive in... this place?" She looks around the room, "It just feels like you are quite familiar with this place. You know a great deal. So that seems unlikely."
"I must also ask about divine magic," she adds. "You say you do not know if the sensors detect that. The intent, you say, is to root out spellwork. But then, are there those of various faiths that still openly use their divine magic? Somehow, I doubt it. But you seem to suggest maybe the rules don't prohibit it?"
She catches Diego's look but is no more aware of what he's thinking for seeing it. 'What is he thinking? Is he trying to tell me something?' She does muse over his comment though. 'Does he think the opposition might get similar dreams? And know to be looking for us - or our tools - specifically?'
The eyes of Vorenus blink and he straightens his head, mind reeling, as he’s taking this in. Only then does he look over to Shenua who took a seat, he reaches over to her, saying “Sorry, I… this is just a lot. I feel like I’m being spun around in a chamber of mirrors, with one pane of clear glass that I get to look out of every now and again. Didn’t’ mean to offend you.” He looks up at Lirae, anger or tension still in his eyes. “But I am angry. About the predicament we are in. Thank you for your explanation, Lirae Endarel. You can see why we would be suspicious from our point of view. I do think that we need to hear whatever you can recall.. about that last day that you were with Kalis. I want to hear how all of this happened. As a scribe of the Royal Research College, you have unique knowledge. I would like to hear more. We will get to the particulars of how to pull this off, how to avoid detection - but I think we need to hear more about what exactly happened here.” Vorenus pulls up a seat beside Shenua and sits, focusing intently on Lirae.
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A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
Shenua looks at Vorenus as he takes a seat and apologizes. She exhales, gives him a small nod, and then hands him the sketch so he can take a look at what the sensors look like later. They're really going to have to keep their eyes peeled for those.
"So the sensors all draw from the same fixed node in the Crown Spire, huh?" The artificer taps her chin thoughtfully. "Wouldn't it be great if we could disable them all in a single strike?" She mimes drawing a sword and slicing clean through something in the air. "Well, enough daydreaming, Shenua. Locating and avoiding them," she nods toward Diego, "we'll definitely do that."
She gives a second nod when Diego suggests that if Lirae dreamt of them — and their tools — others might be dreaming too, with far less helpful intentions. Her brow furrows slightly. "Makes sense. It might be best if we don't take them with us, then."
When Lirae finally reveals her name, Shenua doesn't react immediately. But then she blinks, startled, and says, "Wait. You're L. Endarel? The one mentioned in the Addendum? The dissenting voice against consolidating magical authority under the White Flame Accord?" Her eyes narrow slightly, remembering. "The book didn't even mention your title nor rank, just that your warnings where archived for record and counterpoint."
A beat passes. Her expression softens.
"It was more than that, wasn't it? Were you cast out from your position? Erased from official record entirely?" Shenua hesitates, then adds quietly, "I'm… sorry, Lirae. That must've been hard. All of it."
Lirae leans against the chalkboard’s edge, arms crossed loosely, but her gaze remains alert — tracing your questions with the care of someone used to parsing many truths at once.
She begins with Iromae, offering a quiet nod. “Yes. I know this place well. I’ve been here for years now — not just in the city, but in this sector, where the Crown rarely looks. You’re right to be skeptical. I understand that.”
To the question of Kalis, her expression tightens. “I haven’t seen her face to face. Not in over a decade. But I’ve heard her voice.” She glances toward the book Shenua now holds. “There was a moment, six years ago. A ripple. A crack in the seal. It passed quickly, but for those who were paying attention … I swear, I heard her. Felt her presence. It’s what convinced me she was still alive.”
She turns her gaze to the floor briefly, as if measuring something in her memory. “Whatever the Crown thinks she is — a mouthpiece, a puppet, an illusion — she is still herself beneath it all. I know it.”
Then, more carefully: “And yes, I was there the day she vanished from your side. I was part of a remote observation project. We never met — not then. But I watched your group through the scrying mirror. The spell dissolved the moment the rupture occurred. When it stabilized, your group remained — except for Kalis. One was missing.”
Vorenus’s follow-up draws a long, measured breath from her.
“The rupture created a blind spot in the Weave. When the seal closed, it sealed her in — and locked everything else out. I stayed. I hid. And I began to map what was broken.”
When he demands to know how many might be hiding magic now, her eyes harden. “I don’t know. Maybe dozens. Maybe more. But most are isolated. They remember how to fear long before they remember how to fight. Some might be at the masquerade. But they won’t announce themselves.”
To Shenua, her gaze softens again — perhaps even a flicker of gratitude. “Yes. That Addendum. They published it out of formality, but I was stripped of rank before the ink dried. I lost my chair. My notes. My name.” A bitter smile. “But they couldn’t erase everything. They’re bureaucrats, not gods.”
She crosses to a locked drawer and withdraws a small scroll tube, sealed with wax. “The node in the Crown Spire is ancient. It’s a null beacon — intended to regulate unstable enchantments. Someone retooled it. Now it acts like a tether. Every sensor in the city reports back to it. If it were damaged … or severed …” She doesn’t finish the sentence.
Then, returning to the question of divine magic, she turns again to Iromae. “No one uses divine magic openly. Not in public. Not without the Crown’s permission — and they only grant it to their own. I believe the sensors were meant to detect arcane channels, but it wouldn’t surprise me if they’ve been refined.”
She lets that settle for a moment — then nods at Diego’s comment about dreams.
“He’s not wrong,” she says, voice low. “Dreams are stirring. Not just mine. And not all of them are benign.”
Finally, she meets Vorenus’s and Iromae’s eyes in turn. “As for who I am ... I’m not a hero. And I’m not the answer. I stayed because I thought I could fix something. But what’s broken is bigger than the Crown. Bigger than the Accord. Bigger than even Kalis. If there’s a way forward, it’s through the masquerade.”
She turns back to the chalkboard, her expression pained but clear. “You said you want to know what happened that day. The truth. I’ll tell you.”
"What do you mean we won't like it?" Iromae responds right away. "Of course we want to know. But..." She pauses a moment, looking closely at Lirae and taking a small step back. "You were watching us? All five of us? On the day Kalis disappeared?" She seems perhaps offended by this news. "You watched us before that day too, didn't you?" she asks in an accusatory tone.
But she then shakes her head slightly. "You are not being very clear though Lirae. You said you were with Kalis. Were you with her or just watching her? And... you sometimes make it sound like you were from our... world." She frowns, not sure that's the right word, but she continues. "Yet, other times it sounds like you were part of this world before that day. How would you have a chair and rank here if you were from there?"
She has other questions, so many questions! As Lirae reveals more and more it's almost like an avalanche that buries her previous questions as it brings new ones. While she wonders a great deal about what might have happened six years ago - that seemed significant - she is focused on what Lirae has to say about the scrying and about that day Kalis disappeared.
Shenua, you do not recall the name Lirae.
As the others respond, Diego lingers near the table. His fingers drift lightly over the edge of the pages, not flipping them, but tracing the shape of a line — as if listening more than reading. He frowns thoughtfully at Shenua’s question.
“No,” he says quietly, almost to himself, “not stupid. Because if they really did appear … why now? Why us?”
He doesn’t elaborate. But as the others begin to follow Lirae, he carefully closes one of the volumes — the one Iromae had begun reading — and touches Shenua with it, causing her to turn around.
“Take it,” he says without making eye contact. “If they came with us, maybe they were meant to go with us.”
Then, only half-joking, he adds, “I’ll take the heat if it gets us in trouble. It's practically my job, isn't it?”
The narrow passage behind the shelf is cloaked in cool, unmoving air, dustless and quiet. Lirae does not look back to see if you follow — she simply walks with confident steps, long sleeves brushing the carved stone walls as she leads you forward.
After a few winding turns through what feels like long-abandoned halls, she stops at a plain wooden door reinforced with iron. Her gloved hand lifts, and she traces something in the air — a quiet flicker of silver threads trailing behind her finger. The faint scent of ozone pricks your noses as the arcane sigil embedded in the wood pulses once and vanishes.
She opens the door.
The chamber beyond is small — perhaps once a reading room or office — but now repurposed into something clearly more private. A desk. Two chairs. A lantern fueled by steady white flame. Papers scattered in neatly organized piles. Shelves that hold no books, but instead case after case of blank scrolls and empty vials. A half-covered chalkboard shows diagrams in progress — one of which you recognize as the same stylized loom rune from the leyline chamber far below the old Guild.
Lirae gestures for you to sit if you wish. She doesn’t.
“You have a many questions,” she repeats Vorenus, her voice still measured but no longer sharp. “And perhaps I can answer some of them. But I have questions of my own as well — and your presence here is more complicated than you realize.”
She studies each of you for a moment, then settles her gaze on the book Shenua carries.
“You shouldn’t have been able to touch that. Or see it. That tome and its companions are — were — hidden beyond what the Spire should allow. But I believe you … loosened something.”
Her eyes narrow slightly.
“The thread you found. It’s real, isn’t it?”
She doesn't wait for a full answer.
“Then something has changed. And I suspect I know who caused it.”
She crosses to the chalkboard, lifts the edge of the drape, and reveals a faintly drawn sigil — a circle of runes woven through with a pattern of five lines, each touching the center but not one another. Each end terminates in a faint glyph. At the far left: a quill. Then a tuning fork. Then a baton. Then a needle.
Then, at the far right, an empty space. No glyph.
“Five were required. But only four remained.”
She turns back to you.
“I need to know how you got here. All of you.”
She pauses.
“And I need to know if you remember … who wasn’t.”
"Wow. You seem to have as many questions as we do, Lirae," Iromae begins once they reach the room. "Who are you though? You seem to know much. I would not have imagined finding someone like you in this place."
She paces a bit, trying to organize her thoughts. "I'll answer one of your questions. But I hope you will answer mine. We do remeber our fifth friend. But we have not found them yet. We know the name though." She pauses. "But is it safe to say it here?"
Stopping her pacing, she again focuses on Lirae. "And we did find a chamber with a thread. You know what it is."
She then shakes her head. "If our presence has somehow revealed things, I'm not sure how. The whole area though as we approached this building seemed... odd. Like the rest of the world had been repainted but this little corner had gotten lost and overlooked."
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Liivi Orav, Barbarian || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Roxana Raincrest, Rogue || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer
Vorenus is taking this all in, tapping his chin. He thinks to himself, “One side is going to have to take a chance. To step forward, in faith. This is our opportunity, we need to be bold..”. He hears Iromae countering with questions. “Let’s get to the real issue…” he thinks.
“Lirae. Some of the things I say may shock you. Or not. I hope you are .. well.. maybe not a friend yet, but at least on the same “side” we are. Seeing things the same way we are. If we are to gain anything, there needs to be some trust. Some faith. So we hope that by sharing our thoughts with you, that you are not some agent of the government, the White Flame who would try to lock us up for a hundred billion years.” He watches her face as he says these things, giving pause to saying more if he gets any strange feeling. Insight : 3. Totally trusts her.
“What if I said to you.. that we were not from this time line. From this place. For, in our Suzail, we are very near where there was an academy of the arcane arts. Where learning about them was celebrated, encouraged. What would you say to that? That we have, essentially, traveled here through time and space and realities to this very spot, called here, really. Do you know of any such things? Have you ever heard of such?” He waits to see her reaction, watching Iromae, Shenua, and Diego out of the corner of his eyes.
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
"Thank you," Shenua says sincerely after Diego reassures her that her question wasn't stupid. When he touches her with the book, she takes it without hesitation, nodding. "Better leave the heat to me. Hellish resistance, remember?" she adds with a small smile.
As they follow Lirae, Shenua watches the woman's every move in silence, taking careful note of anything she does related to the arcane — driven, as always, by her analytical and curious nature. Once inside the small office, her eyes sweep over the space with subtle appreciation. The tidy organization earns an approving glance, though her gaze lingers on the half-covered chalkboard even before Lirae unveils it. Manners win out over impulse, and she doesn't inspect it too closely — but she can't help asking, "Was it you who added the diagram onto 'The Amarinth Addendum', then?"
She doesn't press further. Iromae and Vorenus have taken the lead in questioning, and for now, that feels right. She nods at Iromae's words — cautious, as they should be — and does that again when Vorenus decides to reveal where (when?) they come from. Someone had to take the first step, and since Lirae held the answers, offering trust seemed the logical move.
While they wait for a response, Shenua glances down at the book in her hands. She flips through it in quick strokes — the beginning, the middle, the end — her turquoise-on-black eyes scanning for anything legible. Iromae hadn't been able to read it, had she? If the text still resists, Shenua lifts her gaze and interjects, “Why were we able to read the newest book, while this one is unreadable? Aren't they all protected by magic? Did something stop this one from being protected?"
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
The heavy door closes behind you with a soft thud, shutting out the eerie quiet of the South Archive’s main hall. The space within is just large enough to accommodate your group comfortably, though Lirae remains near the chalkboard, her fingers still resting lightly against the corner where she unveiled it.
The chalkwork diagram is intricate — not arcane exactly, but geometrical and symbolic. Interlocking circles, arcs traced in layered chalks, lines that intersect and pull apart. At its heart is a small threadlike sigil — a loop broken in two places — the same symbol found etched into the newest volume.
Lirae exhales slowly, and it’s clear she’s trying to decide how much to say.
“You’re right,” she says to Shenua. “It was me who added the final diagram. But it wasn’t my design. It came to me in a dream. Or something like one. And I didn’t understand it — not until I saw your tools, sketched there in the margins. I didn’t know what they were until I saw them on you.”
She folds her arms, leaning against the wall. Despite her calm posture, there’s an alertness to her movements. She’s watching you carefully.
At Iromae’s mention of the thread chamber, Lirae lifts her chin. “Then it’s real. I’ve spent years believing it must be, but the only person who ever spoke of it vanished before I could ask how to find it.” A beat. “Or was removed.”
Vorenus’ declaration draws her full attention. There’s a flicker in her expression — astonishment, yes, but not disbelief. She listens quietly, and when he finishes, she says: “That’s … more plausible than I’d like to admit. I’ve studied records. Places where two versions of history seem to overlay — but only faintly. Like something was smoothed over. Like the page was rewritten.”
She gestures to the chalkboard. “This,” she says, “I believe, is a map. Not of roads or land. Of threads. Realities. Or fates, maybe. But if I’m right, then yours should have been unreachable. A sealed rupture doesn’t open on its own. Which means something broke the seal — or someone did.”
She turns to Iromae. “You’re correct about the city’s edge. The White Flame didn’t erase everything. It simply drew a new outline. The parts outside the circle were left behind — and the South Archive is outside.”
At last, she returns to your earlier questions.
“My name is Lirae Halcaryn. And yes, I know the name you’re all avoiding.” Her gaze sharpens. “If you remember your fifth friend — and you’re here now — then that seal is truly breaking. You’ve done more than stumble into this plane. You’ve begun to pull it open.”
Finally, she gestures to the book in Shenua’s hands. “That volume is an older work. Protected more thoroughly — and not by me. That’s her warding. Your presence must have stirred the newer ones free, but that one’s still locked. If you can’t read it, it means the ward doesn’t recognize you.”
She lets that sit in the air a moment.
“If you want to speak to her,” Lirae says softly, “you’ll need more than boldness and charm. You’ll need access.”
She folds her arms again. “So tell me. What are you planning to do?”
Iromae still isn't quite sure who this Lirae Halcaryn is, but she seems to be on their side in this. "Our plan was to use the upcoming masquerade to try to get that chance to speak.' She frowns a tiny bit as she says this, "The biggest hurdle is how to get an invitation. I guess we were thinking of trying to... well, steal one from someone else."
As she speaks though her attention is drawn more and more to the chalkboard and its drawings. She starts to examine the diagrams of this 'map of threads'. "Hmm, a thread broken in two places. I wonder if that is the current situation or a future? That thread we saw in the chamber seemed to be very firmly intact for now. Or is that holding the thread that is broken?" She shakes her head, "Too many questions still." She then goes quiet as she starts to try to comprehend what this board might be showing. (Arcana: 22)
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Liivi Orav, Barbarian || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Roxana Raincrest, Rogue || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer
Vorenus crosses his arms, he's been examining the chalkboard and the symbols, the patterns, trying to commit them all to memory, to see if they awaken anything in his mind. Then he locks eyes with Lirae, convinced that this is no time for dissemblance or half-truths, that sharing of information is needed, critical at this time. If they have any hope to succeed.
"The name that remains unsaid is Kalis. Kalis Amarinth. Do you know her? What do you know of her? Yes, we need access. We need a way to speak to her and find out what must be done. There was talk, in our time, in our space, of a thread that was broken. Of a thread that needed repair. We don't know how to do that.. what it involves, or where. We believe we have instruments to accomplish this, but we need our fifth... Kalis. But much has been hidden from us, lost in our memory, in our mind - Kalis will know critical information of how things can be set aright. For our timeline, and this one. We need to know how to reach her and anything that you know that could help us." Vorenus looks stern, a more serious look on his face than you've seen in a long time...
"Now. Time is of the essence."
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
Shenua is about to turn her attention to the chalkboard, like Vorenus and Iromae, but then something Lirae says catches her off guard. Her head snaps toward the other woman.
"You've seen our tools on us?", the tiefling asks. We haven't had them on for hours. How long has this woman been watching us? Does she know we left them back in the safe room?
Deflecting — for the moment — to another line of questioning, she says, "Can you tell us how the magic ban is enforced here? I was under the impression that even the simplest cantrip could be detected — and magic items too. But you seem to be using magic freely, so maybe that’s not the case? Granted, this part of town does feel a bit too forgotten. But..."
She trails off. If Lirae saw their tools, it must have been back in the streets of Suzail proper — not here, not in this neglected corner of the city. Still, she presses on. "Can you shed some light on this? It would help to know how things actually work."
(ooc: Not sure if I got this right. If I didn't, I can edit this first part of the post. If I did, can I get an insight check on her reaction? Okay, nope. 6).
Now that Lirae knows they intend to attend the masquerade, Shenua adds, "Do you have any recommendations about the masquerade? I don't just mean how to get access — I mean how to act once we're there. We're assuming we'll need to blend in like legitimate guests, and that means understanding how the city works. The gossip. The etiquette. Who to speak to. The kind of things a real guest would know."
Then, regarding Kalis, she adds, rather bluntly, "What's wrong with Kalis? Why are people so reluctant to say the name? It's one thing for the librarian at the Lower Registry to avoid it, but you as well?" She raises am eyebrow, clearly finding the pattern strange.
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
Lirae listens with an intensity that borders on reverence, eyes flicking from Vorenus to Iromae, then to Shenua. She doesn’t interrupt, but when Vorenus speaks Kalis’s name aloud, her breath catches.
There is no explosion of magic. No alarms. No guards pouring in through secret doors.
But the room itself seems to grow quieter. Still, almost reverently so.
“I feared it,” she says at last. “And hoped it. You do remember her.”
She steps to the chalkboard, gesturing toward the looped thread diagram — the one marked by two interruptions along the line. Her fingertip hovers just short of the chalk. “This,” she says to Iromae, “is not the future. Not exactly. It’s the now. This was drawn the morning after your arrival. Before I even knew who had crossed over. I felt it. The shift. And then … I dreamed this.”
Her voice is steady, but there’s a slight quiver beneath it. “You said you saw a chamber. The thread. That was the first break. Kalis’s disappearance was the second. But she didn’t vanish — not truly. She is here, yes. But her presence — and yours — are out of step with the Weave. You were not meant to be apart.”
She turns to Shenua next, her expression softening. “Yes. I saw your tools, once. But not on you. I saw them through another’s eyes — as if I were looking at you, not as you. I don’t know how. It was like remembering a story I’ve never lived. A line in the tapestry suddenly revealed.”
She offers a faint, apologetic shrug. “As for your question … Magic is not detectable in the sense of an omniscient force. There are sensors — placed in certain locations, particularly around the Crown Spire and palace. But otherwise, the ban is enforced through fear and law. People believe they’ll be caught. That belief keeps them in check. And the occasional public example ensures it.”
Lirae moves behind the desk and carefully opens a side drawer. She retrieves a slim brass key and slides it across the surface toward Vorenus. “This opens the south crawl entrance of the Feathered Silence. No guests enter that way — only workers. You’ll find a dressing room beyond it. Use it before the masquerade. I can’t get you masks or invitations, but I can get you inside if you can't secure invitations yourselves.”
Finally, she addresses the last question — the one Shenua asked directly.
“What’s wrong with Kalis?” she repeats softly. “Nothing. But if the Royal Family believes the city’s power flows from their blood, how do you explain the truth?”
Her voice is low, but clear.
“Kalis Amarinth is the only source of magic in the Crown. They parade it as their own. But not a single royal can so much as light a candle. She is their magic — and she is kept close for that reason.”
Lirae lets the weight of it hang for a moment.
“She can’t defy them openly. Not without risking her own life — or worse, the entire illusion that’s kept the peace here for decades. You asked why her name is spoken in whispers?” She looks back to them, something mournful behind her eyes. “Because if they ever suspect she’s more than a tool … she will vanish again. This time for good.”
Vorenus reaches across the desk and takes the brass key, putting it in his pocket. He locks eyes with Lirae, listening to the backup plan, making notes in his mind. When she starts to give more details about Kalis, his mouth comes open. It seems worse than he imagined. Intolerable. They must be rejoined, to hell with what happens to the Crown.
"How many? How many are left? Do you have any idea how many skulk around in silence, afraid of being caught? How many can do magic... but keep it hidden? I want to know what will be arrayed against us, if they have these "sensors" in the area where we will be, or any ... I don't know ..."anti-magic fields" set up to prevent anyone else from using magic in this place, in the area where we will find Kalis? What are we walking into, do you have any idea?"
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
Shenua opens her mouth to reply, but once again, it's Vorenus' reaction that draws her focus first. His words — and the intensity behind them — catch her off guard, not just because she didn't expect it from him, but because he's managed to voice the very sentiment she would have expressed herself.
She turns to the sorcerer and says quietly, "You're right to be angry, Vorenus. I'm just as furious. We'll fix this. We'll help them all," placing a gentle hand on his shoulder — a quiet gesture of solidarity, but also an invitation for him to steady himself. No matter what's happening, they need to stay calm and focused right now.
The tiefling then withdraws her hand, and turns to Lirae. "The sensors — have you seen them yourself? Could you describe them for us?"
As she speaks, she reaches for a blank parchment and a quill, pausing just long enough to silently ask Lirae's permission before picking them up. She sets herself to sketching. "What's their shape? Approximate size? Do you have any idea what materials they might be made of?"
If Lirae is able to offer a description, Shenua listens intently, asking follow-up questions and refining the sketch until it's as close to accurate as she can manage. When she finishes, she holds the parchment up for the others to see.
"Something like this, then?" She pauses, considering the image. "If we know what they look like, maybe we can locate one. Study it. Possibly even override it. I don't know if it's possible. But we definitely won't know unless we try."
When she’s done, she nods in thanks as Lirae slides the key across the desk. "This will help." Then, more thoughtfully: "There's a real chance Kalis will be at the masquerade? Or at least that it's happening in the same building where she's being kept, right?" She looks to Vorenus, Iromae, and Diego. "It's a risk. But if there's even a chance we'll see her... the tools need to be with us. What do you think?"
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
Iromae stares at Lirae more and more intently as she continues to speak. "Who are you?" she asks when the woman finishes speaking. "You are saying that when Kalis disappeared to us, that is when she appeared here? Who are you to know that?" She glances around to her friends, then back to Lirae. "You dreamed of the second break in the thread. You dreamed of the tools that we carry. Why did you dream these things?"
She listens as she describes the situation Kalis is in. "I get it that Kalis is in a very precarious situation. But you said if they - the royals I presume - suspect Kalis, they will make her disappear. As in disappear the same way she did to us before? Are you implying that these people that don't even have the magical power to light a candle, somehow understand how to do whatever it is that caused her to come her in the first place? Or do you just mean that they will kill her?"
Finally, Iromae pauses. "But again, most importantly - who are you? I don't understand how you know any of this. Or why you are here telling us!"
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Liivi Orav, Barbarian || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Roxana Raincrest, Rogue || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer
Vorenus glances over at Iromae, eyes flashing, his right foot steps backward, he stands in a defensive stance, forearms coming up at his sides. "Right you are, Iromae. So eager was I to see hope and a way forward, that I looked past that obvious hole in this. Who the hell are you? How do you know all of this? You had better explain yourself right now, how you come by this knowledge, how you know about us. Fill in the gaps. Now." Vorenus look of eager interest and ire has now shifted to Lirae, feeling that they could be led down a false path in their zeal to find Kalis. He has a fearsome look on his face as he stares intently at her, all business now.
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
Shenua rolls her eyes as she is completely ignored by Vorenus, who decides—along with Iromae—to confront the only person actually capable of helping them.
With a huff, she sits down, fidgeting with the quill in her fingers as she silently waits for the scene to unfold.
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
Lirae doesn't flinch under the barrage of questions.
Her gaze meets Iromae's first, steady and without offense. "You're right to question me. I would, in your place. But I’ve told you the truth as best I understand it. Yes — I believe Kalis appeared here when she vanished from your world. And yes, I dreamed the broken thread. I dreamed the tools. Not symbols — your tools. Yours. And not because I am some divine prophet."
She crosses to the chalkboard again, this time running a palm gently across the lower edge of the thread map. Chalk dust smudges faintly under her fingers.
“I dreamed them because I was called. Because the seal that once kept this place isolated — ruptured. You caused it. Or perhaps, you fulfilled something that was already set in motion long ago. I felt it break the moment you arrived.”
She turns to Shenua then, gratefully shifting to the calmer, more precise topic of sensors. She nods for the tiefling to use the parchment and quill.
"They're small. Usually affixed to metal lamp brackets or stone corners. About this size —" she shapes a small square between her fingers, roughly three inches wide. “Hexagonal. Warded, but not independently powered. They draw from a fixed node in the Crown Spire. And yes, they detect a wide range of magic — especially arcane. I don’t know if they can sense divine items. They were designed to root out spellwork, not faith.”
She kneels beside the small trunk in the corner and lifts the lid. Inside are several bundles of charcoal, spare cloth, and a neatly wrapped wax-sealed envelope. But she removes none of them — just gestures to the small collection as evidence of her preparation.
To Vorenus, she says with more gravity, “If I knew how many were hiding their magic … I’d count myself first. There are others. But most live in fear — or in silence. Or have convinced themselves this is normal. The masquerade is not a battlefield, but it is a crucible. The Crown will be watching. So will the Advisor. Kalis should attend. And if not, she will be close. That’s why I’m helping you get in.”
She straightens again, brushing dust from her sleeves. “I’ve spoken too plainly to be working for the Crown. If I were with them, you’d be bound and questioned already.”
Her eyes settle on Iromae once more. Then Vorenus.
“Who am I?” she asks softly.
Then, finally, she gives the name.
“My name is Lirae Endarel. Daughter of Mirkhen and Sylra Endarel. Former scribe of the Royal Research College. Scholar of Chronoweave and Weft disruption. I was with Kalis the day she vanished.”
She doesn’t elaborate — not yet — but the way her jaw tightens makes it clear: whatever happened that day marked her deeply.
“And I’ve been trying to find her ever since.”
Diego, for his part, has remained quiet. He stands apart from the others — not out of disinterest, but with an oddly distant attentiveness. One might even say detached. He watches Lirae, then the chalkboard, then back again.
As the others press her, his voice cuts in — soft, but not uncertain.
“If she’s telling the truth …” he says slowly, “then this all started long before we walked into that thread chamber. If her dreams began with Kalis’s disappearance, then our arrival didn’t cause the break. We just followed it.”
He glances at Shenua’s sketch of the sensor, giving a slight nod. “We might not need to override it. Just avoid it.”
Then, with an almost unreadable look at Iromae, he adds: “But if we’re going into the masquerade with those tools … then we’ll need to be very careful. Because someone else might be dreaming now. And not all dreams are helpful.”
He doesn’t explain what he means.
For Shenua:
As soon as she says her name, you recall that in the Southern Addendum, one of the later entries mentioned an “L. Endarel” as a dissenting voice — someone who questioned the consolidation of magical authority under the White Flame Accord.
The mention was brief: no title, no rank, just the name and a note that their warnings were “archived for record and counterpoint.”
You realize this may be the same person — Lirae Endarel. It certainly fits, especially if Lirae has been hiding, perhaps driven underground or erased from official record.
Iromae tries to recall if she knows the name Lirae Endarel or Mirkhen and Sylra Endarel. Was she the scribe of the Royal Research College in their original world? (History if needed: 8)
She also wonders how Lirae could have been with Kalis when she 'disappeared'. 'Wouldn't we have been there with her? Didn't we all decide to... do whatever it was we did. I guess we still aren't remembering everything.'
"Thank you for your name," Iromae says. "You say you have been looking for Kalis since she disappeared. Does this mean you have not spoken with her? Have you seen her? Did you just recently arrive in... this place?" She looks around the room, "It just feels like you are quite familiar with this place. You know a great deal. So that seems unlikely."
"I must also ask about divine magic," she adds. "You say you do not know if the sensors detect that. The intent, you say, is to root out spellwork. But then, are there those of various faiths that still openly use their divine magic? Somehow, I doubt it. But you seem to suggest maybe the rules don't prohibit it?"
She catches Diego's look but is no more aware of what he's thinking for seeing it. 'What is he thinking? Is he trying to tell me something?' She does muse over his comment though. 'Does he think the opposition might get similar dreams? And know to be looking for us - or our tools - specifically?'
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Liivi Orav, Barbarian || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Roxana Raincrest, Rogue || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer
The eyes of Vorenus blink and he straightens his head, mind reeling, as he’s taking this in. Only then does he look over to Shenua who took a seat, he reaches over to her, saying “Sorry, I… this is just a lot. I feel like I’m being spun around in a chamber of mirrors, with one pane of clear glass that I get to look out of every now and again. Didn’t’ mean to offend you.” He looks up at Lirae, anger or tension still in his eyes. “But I am angry. About the predicament we are in. Thank you for your explanation, Lirae Endarel. You can see why we would be suspicious from our point of view. I do think that we need to hear whatever you can recall.. about that last day that you were with Kalis. I want to hear how all of this happened. As a scribe of the Royal Research College, you have unique knowledge. I would like to hear more. We will get to the particulars of how to pull this off, how to avoid detection - but I think we need to hear more about what exactly happened here.” Vorenus pulls up a seat beside Shenua and sits, focusing intently on Lirae.
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
Shenua looks at Vorenus as he takes a seat and apologizes. She exhales, gives him a small nod, and then hands him the sketch so he can take a look at what the sensors look like later. They're really going to have to keep their eyes peeled for those.
"So the sensors all draw from the same fixed node in the Crown Spire, huh?" The artificer taps her chin thoughtfully. "Wouldn't it be great if we could disable them all in a single strike?" She mimes drawing a sword and slicing clean through something in the air. "Well, enough daydreaming, Shenua. Locating and avoiding them," she nods toward Diego, "we'll definitely do that."
She gives a second nod when Diego suggests that if Lirae dreamt of them — and their tools — others might be dreaming too, with far less helpful intentions. Her brow furrows slightly. "Makes sense. It might be best if we don't take them with us, then."
When Lirae finally reveals her name, Shenua doesn't react immediately. But then she blinks, startled, and says, "Wait. You're L. Endarel? The one mentioned in the Addendum? The dissenting voice against consolidating magical authority under the White Flame Accord?" Her eyes narrow slightly, remembering. "The book didn't even mention your title nor rank, just that your warnings where archived for record and counterpoint."
A beat passes. Her expression softens.
"It was more than that, wasn't it? Were you cast out from your position? Erased from official record entirely?" Shenua hesitates, then adds quietly, "I'm… sorry, Lirae. That must've been hard. All of it."
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
Lirae leans against the chalkboard’s edge, arms crossed loosely, but her gaze remains alert — tracing your questions with the care of someone used to parsing many truths at once.
She begins with Iromae, offering a quiet nod. “Yes. I know this place well. I’ve been here for years now — not just in the city, but in this sector, where the Crown rarely looks. You’re right to be skeptical. I understand that.”
To the question of Kalis, her expression tightens. “I haven’t seen her face to face. Not in over a decade. But I’ve heard her voice.” She glances toward the book Shenua now holds. “There was a moment, six years ago. A ripple. A crack in the seal. It passed quickly, but for those who were paying attention … I swear, I heard her. Felt her presence. It’s what convinced me she was still alive.”
She turns her gaze to the floor briefly, as if measuring something in her memory. “Whatever the Crown thinks she is — a mouthpiece, a puppet, an illusion — she is still herself beneath it all. I know it.”
Then, more carefully: “And yes, I was there the day she vanished from your side. I was part of a remote observation project. We never met — not then. But I watched your group through the scrying mirror. The spell dissolved the moment the rupture occurred. When it stabilized, your group remained — except for Kalis. One was missing.”
Vorenus’s follow-up draws a long, measured breath from her.
“The rupture created a blind spot in the Weave. When the seal closed, it sealed her in — and locked everything else out. I stayed. I hid. And I began to map what was broken.”
When he demands to know how many might be hiding magic now, her eyes harden. “I don’t know. Maybe dozens. Maybe more. But most are isolated. They remember how to fear long before they remember how to fight. Some might be at the masquerade. But they won’t announce themselves.”
To Shenua, her gaze softens again — perhaps even a flicker of gratitude. “Yes. That Addendum. They published it out of formality, but I was stripped of rank before the ink dried. I lost my chair. My notes. My name.” A bitter smile. “But they couldn’t erase everything. They’re bureaucrats, not gods.”
She crosses to a locked drawer and withdraws a small scroll tube, sealed with wax. “The node in the Crown Spire is ancient. It’s a null beacon — intended to regulate unstable enchantments. Someone retooled it. Now it acts like a tether. Every sensor in the city reports back to it. If it were damaged … or severed …” She doesn’t finish the sentence.
Then, returning to the question of divine magic, she turns again to Iromae. “No one uses divine magic openly. Not in public. Not without the Crown’s permission — and they only grant it to their own. I believe the sensors were meant to detect arcane channels, but it wouldn’t surprise me if they’ve been refined.”
She lets that settle for a moment — then nods at Diego’s comment about dreams.
“He’s not wrong,” she says, voice low. “Dreams are stirring. Not just mine. And not all of them are benign.”
Finally, she meets Vorenus’s and Iromae’s eyes in turn. “As for who I am ... I’m not a hero. And I’m not the answer. I stayed because I thought I could fix something. But what’s broken is bigger than the Crown. Bigger than the Accord. Bigger than even Kalis. If there’s a way forward, it’s through the masquerade.”
She turns back to the chalkboard, her expression pained but clear. “You said you want to know what happened that day. The truth. I’ll tell you.”
She steps to the edge of the map.
“But you won’t like it.”
"What do you mean we won't like it?" Iromae responds right away. "Of course we want to know. But..." She pauses a moment, looking closely at Lirae and taking a small step back. "You were watching us? All five of us? On the day Kalis disappeared?" She seems perhaps offended by this news. "You watched us before that day too, didn't you?" she asks in an accusatory tone.
But she then shakes her head slightly. "You are not being very clear though Lirae. You said you were with Kalis. Were you with her or just watching her? And... you sometimes make it sound like you were from our... world." She frowns, not sure that's the right word, but she continues. "Yet, other times it sounds like you were part of this world before that day. How would you have a chair and rank here if you were from there?"
She has other questions, so many questions! As Lirae reveals more and more it's almost like an avalanche that buries her previous questions as it brings new ones. While she wonders a great deal about what might have happened six years ago - that seemed significant - she is focused on what Lirae has to say about the scrying and about that day Kalis disappeared.
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Liivi Orav, Barbarian || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Roxana Raincrest, Rogue || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer