Ranryu

Wynn readied herself for a fight.

Not that kind of hate. The petty kind. When you disagree with someone's ideas on a fundamental level, but they've never actually done anything to you. I've seen it before, but I don't think I've ever felt it until now. Wynn's hands were shaking, blood still dripping down. I don't like this feeling. Sykel has done nothing to me personally, but I feel like it would be okay if I sent her to the Shadow Realm. Tors, what do I do?

Wynn stared at her bleeding hand. Hmm. I didn't think of that. She turned and glared at Sykel. Some people... Tors, have you ever hated anyone before?

I'm writing it down so I don't forget. The way things are going, I doubt my memory will last to the end of the quest.

I have an internal dialogue most of the time, although I'm not sure if having conversations with fake people in my head counts. Sometimes I'll say stuff out loud without realizing it, and with no context, everyone thinks I'm crazy.

How often do your younger siblings fight? Mine scream at each other quite often.

Perhaps... I won't kill anyone who isn't evil. But it would be for their own good as well. At some point, their realm will be noticed by outside powers. When that happens, they'll need more than a fragile monarchy that squabbles over things as small-scale as a single political marriage. Wynn pulled a small knife out of her pocket and began cutting a message into her palm. "Go to Haly's homeworld; bring the pain"

That's easy. When this ordeal is over, I'm gonna go to Haly's homeworld and give whoever planned this the smackdown to end a lifetime. Wynn's heart raced just thinking about it. She hadn't beat up any overbearing monarchs in ages.

They need to find better ways to settle their disputes. Political marriages are so... primitive.

Wynn recoiled in disgust. Sometimes I forget there are worlds as backwards and sexist as that. Well, it's not happening on my watch. Haly and TAAron are made for each other.

Okay. What's this big secret?

Well actually... wait. No context allowed. Sorry.

Wynn shook herself into reality. Yes. What is it?

"I (say your name here) solemnly swear to always use Chuck-E-Cheese air whenever I'm in band." - The band director, echoed by all us band kids who swore the oath.

Wynn rolled her eyes. Every last one of them... I sympathize with Sykel. She felt the fragment stirring in the Shadow Realm. Why won't you just leave me alone? I can't deal with you right now.

Wynn rolled her eyes. "Quit acting so surprised. You knew she was keeping secrets. If you look at the evidence, it wasn't actually that hard to tell."

And we sang like youth who knew no age, for eternals cannot be as mortals are. But our foolishness came to a head. STOP IT! Wynn yelled at herself. She examined her soul, looking for the problem. After a minute or so, she found it. A tiny, near unnoticeable fragment of soul. Something back from the old days. Memories of old music and merriment, that old immortal mindset that operated on whims. It was unwanted at the moment. I can't deal with this right now. It isn't helpful. With a sharp tug, Wynn pulled the fragment of soul out and tucked it into the Shadow Realm. The confusion disappeared. That's better. Now to be helpful. Wynn squinted at TAAron. "I'll be keeping my eye on you, if you don't mind."

"It's your choice." Wynn made an effort to show her emotions. "But understand that this will probably hurt you, and you can't fully trust anything he says until we fix his soul."

Wynn noticed Haly's emotions. And the low road was the only way out of the Mound, but the banshee stopped her singing, so all was still. NO! Focus, Wynn. "I have a solution." Wynn pulled Haly away. "I know you really want to be around TAAron right now, but until we find a way to get Malum out of him, it might be better for you if you avoid talking to him. Want me to distract you?"

Mmm. The Parting Glass in the Loch, and every Sidhe come to watch. Wynn mentally shook herself. Stay focused. Important things are happening. This is no time to go insane like Ranryu. "I hate to interrupt, but we really don't have time to sit around and talk about this. Does anyone have like a way to shield him from Malum or something?"

If your brain was a room, what would it look like?

"And then we'll wrap baby Jesus in a blanket made of fruit by the foot." - My seminary teacher

You're finally here! Welcome!