As Yalaune watched Arcuann's smoking barrel of the gun they were holding, Ellame's form collapsed, into liquidity goo, leaving behind Kelmvors shadecore, which Yala scooped up. Arcuann holstered the gun, gesturing to Yala, "You go on up head, I have something personal to settle." Yala hesitated, "Are you sure?" "Positively, I'll meet you at Crookbacks checkpoint." Carrying her now stolen goods, she carted it upwards, as Haqet and the others had long gone. Once reaching the surface, the orb seemed to whisper to the Fin'ullen, before falling silent. She carried it back home, setting it down on the couch table, with Arcuann in tow. What she couldn't get out of her head was Haqets snarling face in hers, if she hadn't used Illusioned Self…she soon retired to bed, haunted by the images. When she awoke the next morning, it was a day like any other. The morning mail had come, and Yala read the letter from Baker, something about critiquing her skills, another lesson about making chuck roast. She pocketed the letter and set about her day, cleaning house, that was until later in the afternoon, when another letter slipped under her door. With a raised eyebrow, she reached down and grabbed it, opening it and reading it further. She blinked as her eyes scanned the short notice, a threat. Someone named Hyriss demanded she turn in the orb within a day, otherwise they would pummel her. Who was Hyriss? Honestly Yala hasn't a clue, but she knew they must be working for Haqet. Biting her lip as she thought, a second letter, from Baker, shortly arrived. It was even shorter than Hyriss's, simply asking her to bring the Shadecore. Baffled and confused on why Baker would like the Shadecore, she gave a shrug. Oh boy, today was shaping up to be interesting. She reached for the orb on the couch, picking up its inert form and examining it. Getting pummeled by Hyriss…or pummeled by Baker…Baker, Hyriss, Baker, Hyriss….she turned the thoughts in her mind before making a decision. She pocketed the orb, set on sending a return letter back to Hryiss, and finished her cleaning. She soon set off for The Wolf’s Respite, to the awaiting Baker as he joked with the bartender. She slipped the cold orb into the man’s hands, as he took a drag of cigg outside, walking away. Soon afterwards Ellemene came up, demanding to know where the orb was. “I gave it to someone.” Yala answered, not wanting to fight the goo-person. “Then show me.” They answered, waiting for Yala to lead. With a sigh and a defeated shrug, they made their ways toward Crookback’s Sucker Punch, and after a mandatory eye check, Kailgang let them in. Ellamena instantly jumped the counter, toward the broken Shadecore that was on the floor. After a muttered conversation between a few people Yala didn’t recognize, they all departed. But Yala…wasn’t thinking about that. She was stressed. Had she made the right choice giving it to Baker? Would Hy’riss hurt her anyway? Would he hurt Arucann? Those thoughts jumbled in her mind as she tossed it around while making drinks, then finally stepping out to check the fighters rink, taking a glance over at Baker - whose hair was slowly creeping white from stress. Then her gaze settled on the bone armor, the person fighting in the pit. She couldn’t take it anymore, she ran from the Sucker Punch, alone. She wasn’t at the Emporium anymore, a Kathar, one with snow white hair and different colored eyes, laid at her feet. Next to the body lay a Sihndar with red hair, a purple cloak with gold trims on it, face lifeless. Finally an Ailor woman, blond hair streaked red with blood, lay next to that figure, blue eyes staring lifelessly upward. Letting out a choked sob, the Fin’ullen knelt in her psychosis world, arms trembling. From the smokes of her mind rose a Teledden, short hair and silver eyes, staring right at her. “Didn’t you want this, Yalaune?” The elder inquired, nearing his 300th year. “N-No!” She gasped, “I tried to save them!” “And I was right about them, wasn’t I?” He raised his eyebrow. “Is your ‘friend’ ‘Baker’ going to turn on you too? How can you even trust him?” Yala felt her fist clench around the rapier she held, “He’s my friend - he’s the only one who believes in me aside from my husband. I have a new life, new friends, new opportunities.” “And you don’t think he might take that away?” The Teledden inquired, which Yala only stared at, lost. The figure trudged forward, through to the bodies of the fallen, Yala’s arms trembled. She stared straight at him. “Yalaune,” The Neflin said softer “You need to be able to protect yourself. You keep repeating you can’t let people die, yet you're the first to go down.” And the figure reached forward, touching her forehead. “Be smarter, you're not helpless. I know you’re not.” Yala gave the figure a nod, taking a breath. She reached a hand for her jaw, noticing it was locked tight for stress. “Run, don’t fight, if you can. There’s no winner if you’re dead.” The figure spoke, before abruptly interrupted by a cat’s meow. Snapping out of her daydream, Yala looked at Baker’s cat, a bow around its neck. Taking a breath and popping some pills, Yala reached for the letter, with a smile.
