Elariel perked up as Ivan approached his brother; the two exchanged a quick farewell before Kethryll'ia turned and sprinted after the fading figures of the Elders and apprentices. With a sigh of relief, Elariel watched his youngest nephew disappear into the distance, knowing he had given Kethryll'ia all he could.

Turning back, his gaze fell on Ivan, who was now speaking with Alvaerelle. Though Elariel's face remained neutral, his eyes were alight with a mixture of curiosity and amusement at the exchange between them. Elariel wondered if she was the reason he disappeared.

He hoped for a moment alone with Ivan, a chance to congratulate him on his new rank. Elariel’s heart swelled with pride; he truly couldn’t be prouder of the young man Ivan had become. Stepping forward, he cleared his throat gently, hoping to catch Ivan’s attention without interrupting too much. Elariel barely had a moment to draw Ivan’s attention before Catori's voice rang out, calling everyone together. With a soft sigh, he adjusted his stance and listened, nodding at the task she assigned him. Though he felt a bone-deep weariness tugging at him, he pushed it aside, knowing the importance of his duty.

Turning to Ivan with a grin, he added, “Lieutenant, make sure Alvaerelle gets home safely.” The acknowledgment of Ivan’s new title carried warmth, and pride gleamed in his eyes. He glanced up at the sky, noting the arrival of the day already. “I’ll see you in a few hours. Get some rest.”

With that, he turned sharply, already refocusing on the task ahead. “Cornaith!” he called, his voice low but carrying easily in the still night air. “Get some rest; we’ll head out at dawn.” And with that, Elariel took his own advice, pulling himself away to catch what little rest he could before the morning light demanded his strength once again. He arrived back home, hoping his mate was already tucked away in bed.

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

The next morning, Elariel woke with a dull throb in his head, remnants of the tension and exhaustion from the night before. Rubbing his eyes, he dressed quickly and slipped from his quarters, feeling the crisp morning air as it washed over him, sharpening his senses. Stretching, he made his way to the clearing where the mist hung low, swirling lazily around him. Ivan and Cornaith hadn’t arrived yet, but he knew they’d be along soon enough.

Hearing footsteps, he turned and saw Catori approaching, she looked exhausted. “Good morning, Catori,” he greeted her quietly, nodding in respect. “Ivan and Cornaith should be here soon, and then we’ll head out.”

He took a breath, thinking of the paths ahead. “We’ll steer clear of the South,” he said, glancing towards the distant, hazy horizon where the Scalding Flats lay. “I’d rather give the apprentices a wide berth to ensure they’re far along in their journey.” Elariel glanced toward the western edge of their territory, where the trees of the Moonlit Grove shimmered faintly in the morning light. "We’ll start with the Moonlit Grove," he said, adjusting their route mentally. "From there, we’ll swing north through the Tempest Peaks and cover as much of the cliffside as we can manage."

He traced an imaginary line eastward with his hand. "Once we’re done with the Peaks, we’ll push on to the coast, make sure the Delmar Ocean’s edge is clear. It’ll take us nearly the full day, but by the time we loop south, we’ll have covered most of the borders.”

Gripping the bow in his hand, a sense of calm settled over him. The weight of the weapon soothed him. Aunt Zinniah, ever stoic, ever distant in her affections, had given him something more than a gesture. She had entrusted him with something invaluable. It was not something that Aelion would take lightly.

As Zinniah reached into her pouch, Aelion’s eyes darted to her hand, watching with quiet intensity as she pulled out the small carving. His breath hitched for a moment, though his expression remained neutral, perhaps a tad wide-eyed. The bear. It was hardly weathered, despite years of being handled, its edges scuffed and softened by time. But even in its age, it was unmistakable. When she handed it to him, his fingers brushed the familiar grooves, tracing the small scars etched into the wood. His grey eyes flicked back up to meet hers as she fastened it around his neck. He would carry it with him, not particularly because he believed in luck, but because it connected him to his father, to his past. He would honor it, as his father had before him.

"You know," he began, examining the piece around his neck. "My father always favoured the creature. Said a bear appeared to him once in the woods. He was tracking a deer, right? Out of nowhere, a bear shows up, just stands there, staring at him. They apparently had this deep, unspoken connection—at least, that’s how he told it. He thought the thing was going to charge, but instead, it just turned and walked away, disappearing into the trees like it was never there at all." Recalling the story, he was told how his father gazed into the beast's eyes and how they had made some "unspoken" connection.

A faint, almost wistful smile tugged at Aelion's lips as he continued. "He used to say that the bear spared him for a reason. Said it was his guardian after that, kept him safe through every battle, every hunt." Aelion’s voice softened, a rare vulnerability creeping into his words. "I didn’t know if I believed him back then. But now, I understand why he held onto it." In his mind, it wasn’t about the bear, or the stories. It was about carrying something with him—something that reminded him of his strength, and the things he fought for.

Aelion’s voice faltered, his gaze dropping back to the carving before he steadied himself. "Thank you, Zinniah. For this. It means more than I can say." She had given him all she could—knowledge, skill, and now, something of his father’s. There were not enough words to thank her. Instead, he remained silent, smiling as she patted him on the back. Nodding, his grip tightened around the bow, partially afraid to use it in fear of breaking it or damaging it.

As the Elders began to gather the apprentices, calling them into the trees, Aelion knew it was time. He gave his aunt one last nod, then turned and followed the others into the dense woods, forcing himself to keep his gaze forward. The forest closed in around them, and the sounds of the camp faded behind him, replaced by the quiet, oppressive atmosphere of the trials to come.

Valae’s voice cut through the silence like a blade, and even the fire seemed to yield to her command. The moment she spoke, the gravity of the situation pressed down on him. Every step through the darkened forest felt like a step into the unknown, with his grandmother's torch casting long, dancing shadows as they moved deeper into the trees.

Aelion’s senses sharpened, his breath steadied. If he had known that they would be walking throughout the night, he would have slept during the celebration. As dawn broke, revealing the vast, unforgiving landscape of the Scalding Flats, Aelion's eyes narrowed at the sight before him. The desert stretched endlessly, the air already thick with heat. Valae’s words echoed in his mind: "Miles and miles of nothing." His lips pressed into a thin line, determination tightening his jaw.

His grey eyes flicked briefly to Esen as his grandmother handed her the map. Good, a strong start. As Valae's wide grin twisted on her face, her voice growing more sinister, Aelion's jaw clenched. Glamoured map. True forms. Sacrifices. He wasn’t sure if he hated or admired how much the elders were playing with them, dangling this mystery in front of them like bait.

His eyes darted to his grandmother as she moved through the apprentices, offering her blessings like this was some grand ceremony instead of the start of a trial that could very well break them. The forest seemed to swallow the two sisters whole as they disappeared into the shadows, leaving the apprentices to face the unknown.

Lingering near Akith'ki, he blinked momentarily, as if grasping the fact that the trials had begun. It was only when the mention of applying mud to any exposed skin did he break out of his trance, focusing on the presence. From what he gathered, Syl and Sarolta agreed upon that fact. Akith'ki, however, brought up a different point of view.

Aelion, listening to Akith’ki’s suggestion, crossed his arms and glanced over the expanse of the desert. It was true—the day’s heat was oppressive, and the idea of traveling at night had its merits. But the cold nights could be just as dangerous as the scorching sun.

“The nights are freezing, and we’ll be moving slower in the dark. Either way, we’re risking something.” Agreeing with Kethryll'ia, he released a small sigh.

Aelion shifted his stance, his eyes narrowing before he looked to Syllivanna, who had more knowledge about healing than any of them. “If we’re going to use mud, it won’t last in this heat without crumbling, like Akith'ki said. Are there plants around that we could collect? Create a salve to aid burns of sorts beforehand?” Aelion knew little about plants. He knew the basics, but by no means of which could be crushed and applied to skin. Perhaps he should have observed his grandmother more often.

Pondering, Aelion gazed around, randomly breaking away from the group. What was that plant that was used at times? Calendula? He wasn't even sure where to find it, only that it produced orange and yellow flowers. He stepped carefully over tree roots, scanning the ground for any signs of orange life. Aelion recalled snippets of information. It thrived in sunny areas, often near trails or alongside other wildflowers and it.. Nope, that was all he knew.

He headed toward a small clearing up ahead, where he could see hints of colour amongst the green. At this rate, he couldn't hear the group, let alone see them. However, he continued. As he entered the clearing, he knelt down, his fingers brushing through the grass. There it was—those orange flowers. A surge of triumph filling him, he picked a few flowers, and then more, and more, until his arms were holding nearly the entire batch.

He scanned the area, keeping his eyes peeled for any further plants, as if hoping he would suddenly gain knowledge about them. Without further luck, he turned back towards the path he came from. Returning to the group, he searched for Syllivanna, orange blossoms in hand. "Will these do?"

Saro rubbed the back of her neck, already feeling small beads of sweat forming beneath her fingertips. Her gaze shifted from the blistering desert horizon to Akith, who had spoken up, his quiet yet thoughtful words breaking the tense silence that hung over the group. She tilted her head slightly, a faint, approving look flickered on her face as she considered his suggestion.

“You’re right; the mud will only do so much,” she replied, her tone calm yet cool. She squinted against the sun as she looked out over the flats, shading her eyes with her hand. “Traveling by night would be cooler and safer, but Aelion has a point—we’d risk freezing temperatures. And there’s no telling what creatures might roam out there after dark.”

Koa's scars flashed into her mind, and she scowled, her thoughts swirling with a mix of frustration and concern. Her skin was far too pretty to mess up this soon, glancing down at the mud plastered against her arms and shoulders.

Turning to the apprentices now gathering mud, she added, “Let’s use the mud for now to protect ourselves as long as we can and cover as much ground as possible before the midday heat becomes unbearable. When it begins to crumble, and the sun is at its fiercest, we’ll seek shade—if there’s any to be found—and rest until sundown. Then, we move.” Her gaze flicked back to Akith, offering him a slight nod in recognition of his insight.

Saro’s eyes caught on the distant silhouette of a small cluster of Mesquite trees, their branches dense with leaves, casting promising shadows over the sandy terrain. That might be our shade, she thought, mentally mapping out their approach to reach the trees. The Mesquite’s pods could even serve as food if things became dire.

Sarolta’s gaze followed Aelion as he paced, breaking away from the group and vanishing into the green shadows with determination. A salve would be an excellent addition if it offered any real protection.

Sarolta studied Aelion with a faint smirk as he returned, orange blossoms filling his arms. Look at him, so proud of his fancy little bouquet. Her gaze shifted to Syllivanna, curious to see if this little side quest was worth anything more than just wasting time.

She rolled her shoulders uncomfortably, feeling the mud mixture tug at her skin with each movement. Sarolta could already feel the weight of the mud clinging thickly to her skin, drying in patches that felt heavy and stiff across her shoulders and arms. Her jaw tightened as she resisted the urge to scrape it off, the desert heat intensifying its unpleasant stickiness. Sarolta’s sense of claustrophobia intensified as the mud stuck to her arms, and she could feel her patience beginning to thin with each passing moment.

“I think I may just rather burn,” her face twisted into a sneer as she muttered under her breath, casting a sideways glance at Akith’ki. Feeling the weight of the mud clinging to her skin, she shifted her stance and moved away from him toward Esen.

"Esen," she said softly, wanting to draw her cousin's attention. "What does the map say about the area beyond those trees? Are there any landmarks we should be looking for?" Her curiosity piqued, she took a step closer, eager to learn what clues the map held for them. Her body language brimmed with impatient energy; she was ready to start this journey, and waiting any longer would put them further behind. Gods, she just wanted to get moving so she could get this nasty mud off her; she was already picking at the dried pieces, her irritation simmering just beneath the surface.

Syllivanna Zylqirelle

Her pale bi-colored pools would fall upon Akith’ki as he spoke.

“Why travel during the day when the sun is at its hottest? Mud will crumble away eventually. Night. We should travel at night.”

Akith’ki made several good points in his argument, though not quite an argument, more or less merely dishing out his own thoughts and ideas on how to approach the flats. She actually hadn’t considered how short lived the protection of the mud would be and was grateful for the reconsideration. She’d offer a hum pondering on other alternatives. It was the youngest heir now who would take their turn in deliberation.

“I would also suggest we find some sort of eye and mouth protection, because we might come upon a desert windstorm. If we travel during the day, we will to make a priority of finding some wild beast and tanning its hide to make waterskins after all we don't want to dehydrate. It would also be treacherous to travel at night considering temperatures in deserts can get to near freezing.”

Even the youngest heir was making additional excellent points. She’d begin to stare off into the shrubbery pondering what possibly things aside from the aforementioned waterskins and hides that could assist the teens through the flats. It was upon the warm and cherished vocals of Aelion that her attention was redrawn upon the group, more directly toward Aelion.

“The nights are freezing, and we’ll be moving slower in the dark. Either way, we’re risking something. If we’re going to use mud, it won’t last in this heat without crumbling, like Akith'ki said. Are there plants around that we could collect? Create a salve to aid burns of sorts beforehand?”

She could hear the exasperation in his voice, he wanted to get moving as much as the rest but wanted to do so in a manner that increased the odds in their favor. At the mention of a salve, she’d begin to smile as her eyes began to express excitement.

How had she not considered a salve herself, she must have been distracted with everyone going on, there were no good excuses for herself other than she should dwindle more upon her medicinal routes than of anything else at this rate. As the dark haired male scampered off only to shortly return with a handful of orange blossoms in tow. Her face would flush slightly, whether from the flowers he held in his hand or the heat radiating from the Scalding Flats it’d be a hard determination.

“Will these do?”

“Aelion, yes! Calendula, those are perfect to start! Perhaps, while we may not be able to find mud,” she’d direct toward Kethyrll’ia a bit flatly, “we could probably find some aloe to add to this salve.”

She would approach Aelion scooping the flowers from his grasp and into her own, finding a large rock and setting them there, bounding over to a more jagged easy to wield rock.

“While bitter to taste, aloe has incredibly wonderful anti-inflammatory and soothing properties making it useful for treating sunburn. It’s also indigenous to subtropical climates, which are hot and dry, since its cactus-like.” She’d known to have shared too much already, rambling on her own herbal and medicinal facts and nonsense, useful to say the least should the group get separated.

“Let’s use the mud for now to protect ourselves as long as we can and cover as much ground as possible before the midday heat becomes unbearable. When it begins to crumble, and the sun is at its fiercest, we’ll seek shade—if there’s any to be found—and rest until sundown. Then, we move.”

Sarolta’s vocals now filled the air, in mutual agreement towards her proposed plan Syllivanna nodded her skull. Now beginning to use both rocks before her to grind the flowers down into a paste. She had allowed this time to hone in on producing an adequate amount though she’d likely need at least another bushel or so just in case they all wind up with unforgivable sunburns, at least until she could find aloe. The plant likely wouldn’t grow far from where they were however likely would also be found later during their endeavor. Her ears would flicker as they had managed to pick up only the slightest mumble from Sarolta. She could hear the female shifting about and picking at the mud already beginning to crust itself over her delicate skin. Her gaze would slip from her clump of crushed flowers for a brief moment in mild displeasure before shifting towards wariness as she approach their cousin Esen. She could not only sense the impatience bristling off the female but also the discomfort of having the mud on her. If her initial shifting and picking about weren’t evident enough her question had given it away completely.

The curly-headed femme would continue on with her crushing until she had a decent amount of paste formed and clumped together. Unfortunately, having nothing else on her persons to hold the salve. She’d rise from her seat and aim for a large leafed shrub, picking two medium sized leaves and begin effortlessly weaving them into a miniature basket to place the paste in. She’d ensure the lid of said basket would fit well enough that no matter which way the basket itself were flipped the paste would not escape. Giving a satisfactory nod she’d bring her gaze to meet Aelion once more.

“Thank you for the Calendula, Aelion. Do you think you can show me where you found it? I want to grind just a bit more just in case we don’t get as lucky as I believe us to be and run into some aloe to top this off.” She’d finish softly, giving him a warm smile and sharing the paste she was able to create.

Esen Eradia || Apprentice || M: Apprentices

"Well... we did just party all night; some sleep right now would probably do us good," Esen said in response to Akith'ki, fingering her upper lip. The mud would dry eventually, as would what remained of their paint. While the dust would still protect them somewhat, the other was right in that it would lose its potency. Traveling at night posed other risks, but it wasn't a bad idea. "We could hunt while we're still by the forest. The meat would dry fairly quickly out here, and we could use any skins to make shades to sleep under. Um... if you guys want."

Esen quickly ducked her head once more and unfurled the map. Her eyes tracked the various lines that began to appear, ink spreading out in dark veins from a dot marking their current location. The girl's lips pressed themselves together in an expression of distaste; the elders were right: there was nothing in this desert. Far ahead of them, a congregation of blotches marked a volcano, and Esen felt the internal tug once again. She studied the paper carefully, muttering under her breath. Yes, that must be it. Or the right direction, anyway.

The other apprentices' voices had shifted to indistinct chatter in the background. Purple-blue eyes had begun to watch the wind pick up the loosest particles of cracked earth and spin them high into the air in a whirling dance. On the barren horizon, heatwaves were beginning to form already; their shimmering forms were distorting the far landscape and promised an uglier temperature further on. Voicing her thoughts to no one in particular, she murmured, "The second shift could help those who've achieved it as well. Make the sun and heat more tolerable."

She reined in her thoughts and returned her focus to the group with a start as Sarolta's softened voice reached her ears. "Oh -- yes... There are a few plateaus scattered about that we could use for cover along the way. And there's a volcano-" here she gestured with one slender arm, waving her hand in the direction of the mountain, "-that I think I feel pulled toward. There's a series of steam vents as we get closer to that. I think it's the right area, anyway."

Had she been rambling? It sure felt like it, and her cheeks were slightly flushed with embarrassment. What a way to start the trials: hot, awkward, and babbling. Esen clamped her mouth shut before she could make the situation more uncomfortable. She could sense Sarolta's impatience, and she herself was eager to get this over with, though not in nearly as excited a way. The trials had always seemed far off, but now they were here, and Esen hated nothing more than the unknown.

The silence between the group weighed heavily. Aelion’s jaw tightened, observing the others begin to apply mud to their skin. Without a word, he silently knelt to the ground, beginning to apply the mixture to his arms and face. The coolness of it was a temporary relief; it wouldn't last. Not to mention, there were areas that couldn't even be reached that would be prone to burning, such as his back. As a result, Aelion adjusted his shirt, hoping the neckline would offer enough protection.

As he smeared the drying mud over his skin, he shot a glance toward Sarolta, who was already picking at the crusted mud on her own arms with clear irritation. A smirk curled the edge of his lips. His voice came low, laced with mockery, as he spoke just loud enough for her to hear.

“You know,” he began, his tone dry, “the mud’s really doing wonders for your complexion. Might want to consider it a permanent look.” His snide remark was one of many jabs that he couldn’t help but take, especially since she already seemed irritated. Still, even in his annoyance, Aelion was a realist. The mud, uncomfortable as it was, was a necessity.

He stood up before turning his focus back to the group. His eyes fell to Esen, who was focused intently on the map, her eyes scanning the inked lines that only she could see. From the looks of it, she and Sarolta had the navigation covered, most likely devising a plan. Rather than joining, he focused on other things, such as remaining hydrated and, yes, the calendula.

At the thought of them, he glanced at the flowers Syllivanna had started to grind, nodding in acknowledgment as she worked. "While bitter to taste, aloe has incredibly wonderful anti-inflammatory and soothing properties…” Syllivanna rambled on, her words brimming with knowledge. Listening, Aelion nodded along, as if it were information he had known all along. While Syllivanna worked diligently, Aelion noted how she allowed her passion for herbal knowledge to spill over into her actions, her hands deftly crushing the flowers. He could see her concentration as she was working to create something useful.

Syllivanna’s voice broke through, offering thanks for the calendula and asking if he could lead her to where he had found the flowers. Aelion ran a hand through his hair, his body protesting at the idea of retracing his steps. Still, the request was reasonable and much needed.

"I’ll show you,” he said, shrugging off the discomfort, his eyes flicking briefly over her woven basket of paste. “Might as well gather more while we can. If we don’t find aloe, we'll need it.” As Syllivanna offered him the small share of the salve she had made, Aelion took a small pinch between his fingers, carefully rubbing it onto the back of his hand. "What would we do without you," he remarked, his tone impressed. It was a good salve. Great, even.

Turning away, Aelion motioned for Syllivanna to follow, leading her toward the spot where he had discovered the calendula. He pushed forward, his pace steady as he retraced his steps. Aelion glanced back occasionally, watching Syllivanna. As they approached a fallen tree, he paused, stepping over and offering his hand to her to steady herself if needed before continuing.

"It should be just up ahead if I'm remembering correctly.." He trailed off, eyes narrowing in concentration. He could see the distinct outline of the plants against the tall grass—a vivid splash of orange amidst the muted greens. Releasing a puff of breath, his face lit up with excitement as he began to approach the calendula.

“How much more do you think we'll need?” he asked, noting the size of the patch.

Cornaith Iliven

“Cornaith! Get some rest, we’ll head out at dawn.”

At the mention of his name spilling into the air he’d promptly straighten himself up and avert his displeased glare from Clisteoteka and reign it toward neutrality to face Elariel. He would dip his skull towards the verbal orders, soon following the male as he dismissed himself and elected to do the same.

His conversation with Cliste could wait another day or so. He was not one to baby a conversation that needed to be had but he wouldn’t be surprised if the female clawed out his eye, matched his current facial scar with one twin to it, or even attempt to carve out his heart by the end of it so he’d give himself an adequate amount of time to consider his words carefully concerning the subject and find a better time to approach the female, whatever time that may be would have to be found on a more convenient day.

Upon approaching his humble abode he’d wash the night away and change into more warrior-like attire, rather than force himself to wake up earlier just to dress himself. He also elected to spend the remainder of his evening resting peacefully swaying in a hammock.

:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:

At the sound of birds chirping his sharp pointed ears would flicker. A groan of displeasure escaped his throat realizing he’d have to get out of bed and begin preparing for this patrol. With yet another grunt of displeasure he’d managed to roll himself out of the hammock aiming for his home once more to wash up and gather his daggers and hawksbill knives.

Upon arriving at the base of camp his pallid pools observed Elariel with Catori, he’d make his way approaching stealthily on near silent feet. They appeared to be discussing areas of which would be patrolled, gathering from Elariel’s hand motions and faint mention of the various locations of their beloved land as he neared.

“You have to save some land for the rest of the warriors, Elariel. It can't just be us having all the fun.” He’d jest, grinning like a cat toward the pair. “Not to sound lazy, as I do always enjoy our never ending exploits across the borders.” He’d add earnestly, clearing his throat for a moment. “Good Morning, Catori.” He’d chide, bowing his skull in respect and offering a slight dip of the skull toward Elariel.

“I hope I am not interrupting, too rudely.” He’d finish, tilting his skull a bit and reaching his muscled arm and hand to rub the back of his neck, in a display of mild embarrassment.

He had not quite realized his entire lack of properly addressing both Catori and Elariel, the first their stand-in chief and the second a more senior warrior than himself. Despite catching himself he still couldn’t help but find that perhaps he had grown a bit too comfortable now with his fellow warriors so much so as to forget and abandon rank etiquette.