Thalia was feeling a hot mess. Her wardrobe was growing into this chaotic creature she no longer recognised, even as Syn had come back with a corset and smile. And a hickey behind those gorgeous ears that Thalia ached to nibble on herself, though there was no jealousy that Syn had had her fun.

The stain was slowly coming out of her scarf, and her room was resembling some sort of order, and on the heating device is a heavy vegetable stew, mixed with beans, eggplant, okra and garlic, among other things. Syn sits upon her bed, even as she is trying to do a couple of trades - to get her small bed out, and a larger one in, something filled with plant fluff packed tight, something she can share with Syn or Yarrow, maybe both if they enjoy her company. She is just about to tell Syn that the meal is ready when there is a knock on her door as a bedraggled messenger knocks on the membrane of her apartment.  

"Miss Honeysuckle wishes for you to come to the art department, she needs a model."

Syn waves her on, promising to leave some stew for her after - if Yarrow doesn't get there first.

An hour later there is one advantage Thalia has about her stew and about the chaos of her life - neither Syn, nor Yarrow would be able to steal the stew. They were getting pinned and pulled and formed into outfits beside her.

"Would not one of the more famous socialites be better as your model?" Thalia asks Honey who is trying to pull something sheer right across her bustline, as the material refused to give.

Honey growls and just shoves her foot directly onto Thalia's spine and pulls. "I would like to peak where I started - send the academy a message about how I should be allowed to reach Primus on this medium instead of the sculpture they keep saying I would be better suited to ascend on."

"So are you showing the outfits off at Moonlit Melodies again then?" Yarrow had asked only for the designer working on them to swat them on the back of the head.

"We are trading to briefly own the carpet that was made for the time the king of Solaris came to visit, and we will be tracing it from Moonlit, all the way to the entrance of the Arboretum. We will then use hand dyed petals to extend the carpet all the way to the base of the Great Sakura Tree." Honey had said, biting her knuckle in nervous energy.

Professor Claypot is on another side of the room, moulding  a tall and lithe woman into something of a stunning navy hue that shimmers like hundreds of hand crafted fish scales, a perfect recreation of one of the pieces from Honey's portfolio. Beneath the open suit lays the exposed front revealing hundred of tattoos across her barely covered torso, and her hair had been curled into gentle waves of almost icy blue - she was Kay Yamoto, the super elite socialite whose parents had developed the wind platforms that centred most of the taller buildings of Natare.

Thalia feels a welling of dread forming inside her, closing her eyes as she trembles within the ensemble fastened to her form. "You are planning to invite the assessment committee. This isn't just a show, its your attempt to force a graduation."

There's a dark growl in Honey's voice as she thinks she sees more white feathers surrounding the ones adorning her dress, painstakingly collected over the years Honey has been working on this project, tips painted in a mixing of paints that remind her of a yellow version of all the metals she's been seeing lately. Her back and across her arms have been painted in circuits that she's been asked to press when she reaches the sakura tree.

All of this is riding on her - being seen and being accepted and being. Bile rises in her throat and it takes all her effort to push it down. She needs more time being a model for the classes, she needs more time finding her own footing, she needs more.... she hears a squawk and then hands are holding hers, and she slowly opens her eyes. She half expects to see Syn, or Yarrow or even Professor Claypot, but it is Kay, giving Thalia a deep and honest smile. "You're panicking, and that's just going to cause you to spiral. All you have to do is walk from here to the club, then walk to the sakura tree. You'll have a bevy of support and some bad ass women all around you to make you look good. I can even walk with you until we get to the club, will that be ok?"

Thalia closes her eyes and nods, letting Honey pin and sew and heat and mould her into the dress as afternoon becomes night. She's aware of further things being arranged, and as the first of the blooms start to light up above them and outside, a black cloak is draped over her so that her and the other shadows can be guided from the academy to Moonlit Melodies for the start of the walk.

Each model is handed a gourd of water, attendants on hand to take care of any spillage. There are 21 dresses in all, the first 8 made by other designers in the style of Honey's portfolio, sent off into the dark ahead. Thalia can hear the claps, an occasionally the glow of a binding as someone marks something down and the hologram lights up the distance.

As night progresses to dusk she waits, Yarrow in with the first of the final thirteen, then Syn, Deluna, and then she is trembling and alone with Kay and some of the light staff and Honey. Honey seems distracted though, trying to wiggle Br1n to work with all the technicalities of her show, and with arranging the attendants at the other end to get the models out of their clothes and the outfits to safety. The models will keep their outfits of course, but only after the assessment committee get to see her works up close.

She starts to move, the fake bird claws on her feet causing her to stumble again, as they help her from the robe. She watches Kay go, disappearing into the dark before Honey comes close. "You have this, I have my trust in you." And then Honey is gone.

The darkness sprawls before her as she hears a voice in the back of her head, low and familiar.

<This is not how I thought this would go, little mage. But I can only see so far and you have so many options available to you.> It is Xylos, not visible, but just sitting comfortably in her mind.

<I don't, I'm not letting you free. Just as I'm not letting humans into this realm.> Thalia says, trembling now with rage instead of fear. 

<Little miss. I'm not here for another tempting, I'm here to support the powerful woman I know you can become, and you are growing into. Look at your eyes, you can see what gifts I bring.> She looks at the reflective membrane of the club wall and sees black orbs staring back at her, and the rage and fear are swirled with the bright gold emotion of enjoyment as the tiniest mote of glimmer springs to life beside her.
She should not enjoy the support of the incubus inside her head, but to be told she is worth it, after a week of returning from her journey into the drudgery of this group work academia. That fills her with joy.
Motes of glimmer start to spring around her as she walks the carpet in her white and gold feathered dress, the neckline plunging to her navel as some see-through fabric holds it tight over her skin. Something sparkling and white in a shell is temporarily adhered to her belly button, and her arms are once again bare along with her shoulders. A mask rests atop her head covering down to her cheeks in the visage of a cat, as flaring up in a massive fan behind her is a tail made from a material similar to her new corset.

She sees Marcus first, a city council guard to his left, hand bound to his. But still here, smiling encouragingly. Mote motes float into the air like a cloud of spores and she walks a little taller, a little brighter. She sees Yarrow next, feeling the joy and love from them through the rings like a jolt of reassurance.

Her face falls with who she sees next, the unmistakable face of the hunter Thane, his retinue either side of him, looking cool at her while he stands there in carapace armor with a blade at his hip. He must be here to investigate Marcus and the fire and her heart starts to waver in her chest.

Her strides shorten and she has to stop herself grabbing her arms, even as she sees Orion, leaning on a cane with a mask over one side of his face but she knows it hides the burns beneath.

<You can't help them until you finish the walk.> Xylos whispers in her mind, trying for support but just reminding her of all the danger she has brought into all their lives with her actions.

She sees a group of 5 people with bindings, constantly making notes and judging the outfits as she passes the edge of the arboretum as blossoms start to rain on her. She navigates the winding path as her hands stray to her shoulders. She can feel one of the headaches building inside her and she feels so self concious that she would have a seizure before everyone. 

She can feel Xylos in the back of her head arcing up in alarm. <We can finish this. You can do it. Just get to the end.>

And then she sees Verdan just casually talking to one of her new team mates and she knows she cannot finish, cannot stand there and make a mockery of herself when the pain strips her of her dignity, and she takes off, leaving the petal path and pushing through the crowd to seek an exit that is a little darker, a little cooler.

She can hear Xylos frustrated in her head, imploring her to go back that she can have her powerful moment, even as she grips her arms and holographic wings spring from her back in that ethereal light.

It is the academy library where Thalia ends up, finding a corner as her mind rushes with so many images - echoes of the realm of Infernus now, all its stone and iron and emotion and both her and Xylos are forced to stroll through the cities, see massive Brutes and delicate families, even knowing how much it doesn't change her thought that bringing him through will murder Levis.

And even all those thoughts are a distraction from the fact she let her friend down.

Some time later a pair of hands find the glossy floor beside her as a derriere soon follows. "Well it is not all ashes. Homey has been given a year to make another show, though the council's nature conservation are looking into the feathers, so there is that."

She looks to the voice and sees Yarrow in street clothes. "You'll be staying with her instead then?"

"I'm not not staying close, I'm just going to keep company with the woman in tears. You pushed through a lot of people, how damaged is the piece anyways? "

"I was selfish, not dumb, I even removed the tail without damage." Thalia says, resting her mask less face in her hands.

"And that will be lovely for her to display at another time, but like how half your assessment comes from the presentation, so did hers. The assessors kept using lines like 'art is a feast for the eyes'. Your professor Verdan was actually the one who got them to accept the redo. Otherwise they were gearing up to force the medium change."

She nods mutely, of course this man would be helpful to every other student except the one he kept under lock and key. Thalia internally screams, giving a shaky laugh to Yarrow as she gets out of the dress and goes down to a set of panties. "Can you get this back to Honey. I don't think I can see her right now."

Yarrow shrugs out of their top, passing it to Thalia. "Just keep yourself safe. All of us would fail a million times just to not have you hurt." Their hand reaches for hers and their rings clink together and she looks up into the make-up clad face of Yarrow, the most feminine she has seen them since they met. "Looks good on you."

"Looks fantastic on me. I will be close if you need me." Yarrow says, gathering up the outfit and departing. Leaving her alone with her thoughts once more.

<So. Does Levis have therapists?>

Two goals, one journey, well a compound journey. A three day loop if you will. She could get away from the city, achieve her goals, and clear her mind - all while avoiding what she thinks Honey will bring. She hates her cowardice as she leaves - not even letting dawn break before she is out of there. 

Yarrow can feel her, and Syn has a message back at the apartment, but her stuff is gone, the relic is stashed and she is on her way south to the Ruins of the Oracle. She picks up a piece of driftwood as a hiking stick about an hour in, going up the river a touch before finding one of the many trade paths down towards Vertus. Noone is out this late at night, the creatures of the forests keeping most from making any smaller manned journeys, but Thalia has places to go, people to see and decisions to regret.

She is still going by dawn, collecting a few nuts from a tree that is safe to eat before continuing on, cracking them open and eating as she walks, careful to stay to the side of the path in case any transport is used on this thoroughfare.

She skipped her potion from Agava, not bringing any with her, plus her life can just spiral - that's fine, she's fine, honest.

<So that's why you are headed to the Ruins of the Oracle? Because you are fine?> Xylos has been back since last night, and the stress, guilt and lack of sleep are not helping her resist hearing his voice. Even if he is right.

<Shut it.> She thinks back tiredly, walking on, despite her energy, just to mitigate if someone has decided to follow her, to tell her this is all a bad idea, which it was, but good ideas could sink to the bottom of the river for all she cared - she just wanted to do something that made her feel like she felt any contrition.

It starts to rain about the third hour, Thalia reaching the edge of the forest that surrounds Natare and feeling the canopy above leave her so that the full rain can soak through the academy robe she chose to wear for the 'adventure'. She should have brought her travelling cloak, but she had thought.... no that was a lie, it was forgotten based on the fact that this is all impulse.

She crosses into the path through the low scrub and sparse trees, wild grasses and rough, ugly bushes lining the path. She's always found it strange that the colloquial name for the forest surrounding Natare is the Forbidden Forest - as if any child or youth going outside the walls has anywhere not forbidden within their average patch that they were permitted to go to. 

Sure they were 'better' than humans with respecting their world, but darkly Thalia wonders where the line between respect and fear lies. <Like you respect my lieutenants.> Xylos says, listening in to her wet and dark musings.

<You would invade us, given the chance.> She rolls tiredly towards him, a thought and a sigh as the rain abates to a fine misting, which is worse in its own way as it just keeps everything damp without wringing the last of the water from the sky.

<I know what your council would do to me, and I would do it first. Your Marcus is locked up and you barely lift a hand to help. Your Orion is scarred. And your Yarrow is... No. You are much too much a mess for you to learn that one. Don't go guessing - you're too far from the city but to overthink it.>

Thalia bristles, then actively curses as a fast moving cargo carrier splashes past her, drenching her in a puddle as her next thought is driven from her mind. She coldly shivers as Xylos tuts. <Did you at least bring your circuit paint?>

The silence drags out as she plays her answer along hearing exasperated sighs come from Xylos inside her skull. <You are going to percolate ill, if you're not careful. No, no. Hop off the road, we are going to learn you some learning.>

Thalia pushes into the grass, and under instruction, moves a small area away, leaving just the soil beneath. It was a small destruction, but it pains her just a little. Soon though, Xylos is teaching her about rune magic. How it needs connection to something from the earth - metals or soil or stone, and it needs a rune, spoken or etched. She is soon huddled around a rune of fire, shivering as the bite is taken away each time the rune flares.

<So you cannot etch the runes you need on your skin for time?> Thalia asks through chattering teeth.
<Runes on your body are not for magic, they are a stain of a compact, or declaration of ownership. You'd have to soak in dirt just to get the runes to catch and then you'd need to infer intent.>

<But things made of a connection to the earth->

<Your mines, stone constructions, metal weapons, all of them could hold magic easily. And my touch into your memories shows times when I have seen our runes in your lands.> Xylos gives a teacherly chuckle.
<Of course you've been into my memories, why does that not surprise me?> The fire rune is taking the wet off now, and with the rainy mist abating, she feels a touch closer to being whole. Guilty, but whole.

Soon she is back on the path to Vertus, staying away from the larger puddles, her toes feeling like they need a good trim, as she works her bare feet through the slosh.

The next few hours continues in academic smalltalk, discussing her 'failures' and Xylos chiming in with how he might have presented each one so that they could be used in the future rather than Thalia's tendency to just tell what a relic does in the here and now.

<You are a technomage, with the breadth of knowledge at your fingertips. Next time, look at all your collective know-how and tell the city how they can use the thing you are presenting. Force them to listen to your hard work, rather than pat you on the back and go there-there.>

She nods, knowing he is right as the plains give way to a looming wall of trees, a new forest, this one tighter, more darker and dense at least to her eyes. Vines drape the pathway, showing signs of being pushed aside by some of the larger and faster transports, but returning in a heavy curtain. They are as thick as her arm as she approaches and she has to push with all her might to make them part, toes digging into the sopping earth to leave scratchy rents behind.

Eventually, after travelling through this dark and heavy forest, with trees more foreign to her than no trees at all, she reaches the part of the path where there is a tighter deviation, a second path off the main one and the 'road' she must go to reach her first goal.

This side path pushes in on her, scraping and pulling at Thalia's arms as she seeks to walk the path without making her way in a way that damages the path itself. 

<You are allowed to take up space. Even the predators through the brush leave their mark. And the bushes themselves design for a little damage, some even spread their young in the fur of creatures moving by.>

She shakes her head silently. That may work for forest creatures, but her life is proof that each time she takes up space she makes a mess of it. She grabs her head to pause as another headache pushes through her, causing her to drop her stick and stumble from the path, hands scratching right up as she tries to right herself in the mud and muck and sharp sticks.

She pushes back up, searching for the walking staff as blood drips down her arms from scrapes all over her bare skin. Moving slower, more carefully she journeys that last hour in pained silence.

At last she reaches the clearing. Broken carved stone etches random shapes and hills through the space with a pyramid of stone steps in the centre leading up to a broken cresent - like an arch cloven down the side.

She drops to a squat, waiting on the help she hopes to find here. Throughout Levis this space is known as the Ruins of the Oracle and it is mythologised that when you are in greatest need, assistance will be provided here.

<For an all answering place it is very empty.> Xylos pipes up after some long breaths. 

<We seek help from our communities first, and this is a one time use thing. At least all the stories say so.>

Xylos sighs as they wait. <Well at least you are using this on yourself and not a wish for.>

<You are the one who wants me to have therapy. I want the ability to undo breaking Honey's chances. But since time magic does not exist - you are the creature I am trying to please.> her voice is sharp and manic in her head, the headaches and pain and pushing insistence of him just fraying down her last nerve as her hair falls across her face like a shroud or veil.

She hears a growl in her skull from one if the lieutenants, and Thalia chuckles aloud, gleeful that she would illicit some response in those in her mind.

A shadow starts to emerge from the forest opposite her and she stands slowly, warily. 

The shadow sensibly wears a heavy cloak to protect against the rain, as it approaches. The voice it utters is female and full of mirth.

"You are a long way from home and quite bloody, stone-noodle.  And you seem not to have the correct number of appendages." The hood of the cloak comes back and long emerald hair spills out, each tip adorned with turquoise shells.

Thalia bristles slightly at being compared to a mammal who lives in rock even as she shakes the sand from her mostly bare scalp. OK, point to the stranger.

"I am here for..." Thalia begins even as the cloak opens revealing a body clad in a shoulder less white gown, criss crossing across her form and accentuating it before dropping flat across narrow hips.

"I know you are here for. I would not be here for you. You tries to call to the oracles for the impossible. Your head guests on the other hand are welcomed by the women of these Ruins."

Thalia is a little stunned that the oracles would see that much into her life that they would see Xylos and his cohort.

"Your skirmish with the witches is not our purview either. Our magic comes from knowing, and while they are capable of divination as well, their rituals and goals are not ours. I am Kopal, and you are Thalia. My sisters will watch this place and I will meet you in the city in days hence, for a boon."

"That's it? If you knew all this, could you not have met us there?" Thalia's shoulders come up and she chews on her lip in nerves.

"The journey was needed for you. You were always going to flee something. Stay, relax a moment. If you wait I might even get you some wine to enjoy." There is a slow smile, supportive but aloof coming from Kopal, and stars dance her eyes a moment as she starts back for where she came from.

<She is going to get a few of the men in Natare in trouble.> Xylos chuckles in her head. It is a dirty chuckle and Thalia has not even heard that kind of reaction around Miss Yamoto which she thinks would be entirely a woman he would go for if he had a body on Levis.

<Behave>, she chides, thinking of Syn and Yarrow as desire not her own flash fires her body. She slows her breathing, finding a meditation as she flushes the emotion from her body. Her cheeks are flushed, and she curses the man inside her head.

<I don't control you. I'm merely the voice in your brain.> Comes the sweet words hiding the sour reminder of her own actions these past weeks.

She moves to the pyramid of stone, up its 6 steps to sit upon its hardness. Her hands trace its surface, working across worn down markings that remind her of all the magics she knows now.

Her mind wanders and wonders, even as she peers around the clearing.

She hears his voice. <You'd be making a choice.>

<I'd be making part of one, connecting dots that are obvious.>

<But obviously untouched. Deliberately so.> Xylos counters, longing in his gravelly voice.

Thalia steps down and finds a stone with edges that match the cracked face of the upright top of the cresent. "I can put it back. Noone will know." Her eyes sweep the clearing as she bends her knees and lifts, slow steps up towards the altar to powers unknown.

Strength finds her bones as she lifts, holding it up and seeing how easy the piece would slide in place, several scripts aligning in their worn dance across the stone carcass.

She hesitates, wanting to press forwards, construct the arc and then explore the ramifications, but the actions of everyone else of late strum discordance in her brain.

She traipses down those steps again, carefully placing the piece down into the upturned earth and sitting down with a massive sigh.

<I can wait the months you need to get to the right place to do this properly. I've been trapped longer than you think.> Xylos says, voice calm though she can feel the disappointment tracing it.

<I just.> She wants so much to know if the door is a door - even if that door doesn't lead to where anyone thinks it does. Even if the presence of foliad circuitry, and infernal runes tells her that she should be right. She only knows two runes - fire and cease but she saw them both on the stone and that was enough data to guess at something.

<You are still not ready to disappoint, even after last night and what you did to Honey.>

Her hackles flair up, hand slapping roughly against the stone. "I thought we were connecting there, mine-breath."

<It takes more than pity to connect > and then Xylos goes silent.