ChainedDragons

No matter the feelings of the past, Nickolai swallowed the hurt. It was a 'us or them' mentality now. Just like the old days... At least the lessons his papaejs taught him would be of value during this time.

[ooc: To make it clear - this is NOT a pk post. This is a post to describe my interpretation of a monk revival for Bron. You don't have to acknowledge this - I wrote this as a way to help me translate things that have happened to him over the past few days into rp that help me process it. Emotional rp can be taxing so take care of your selves. This is my way of doing it for me. Thank you all, to those who participated in the rp. It helped form a very pivoting part of his story and who he is becoming. I look forward to see where it goes.] The Wayfarer "Goodbye.. it wasn't your devil blood that killed you. It was just you." The last thing he saw was the arc of a blade. The tears in Mereid's eyes. The disdain of those he once served with a smile upon his face. Darkness. He felt himself floating in space. Then hooves make contact yet no surface was beneath his feet. What was this? The omen stood, finding himself stripped of armor - in common clothes. As Nickolai turned and looked through the darkness around him, in the distance, he saw a door. Was it a way out? The omen hesitated but took a step towards the door in the distance, gentle ripples in the water beneath his hooves that he now registered. As he approached he sees a figure materialize from the dark, standing in the shadow of the door. Their form illuminated by a dim white light he didn't realize was there at the time. It looked to be a woman dawned in silkened robes, a hood hiding her face. In her hand rested a shepherds crook with a lantern swaying gently beneath it. Nickolai hesitates, coming to a stop. "Who are vy?" Eternity sat between them. "A guide." Nickolai looks over his shoulder back to the dark expanse, thinking he had heard something. "What is beyond the door?" The lantern gently creaks upon the crook as the wayfarer answers. "When it is your time, you will find out Nickolai." There was a sound of a cackle in the dark - that similar to a fox. "Eam time? What do vy mean?" Before he could hear an answer, Nickolai gasps as he feels something tethered to his torso. Looking down a gold thread is pulled taunt and being yanked back by a shimmering form. An enfield growls softly, tugging the omen back into the dark towards a pinprick of gold. "Until we meet for the final time Nickolai." Darkness clouds his vision. In the waking world, his body crumples in the forest - the enfield spirit chittering softly up at a monk. His end was not to be so soon...

The Darkest Hour He could feel himself being dragged over cobbles and through halls. Where was he? Fabric.. throne room.. His head lulls to the side, blood dribbling from his face as Bron is carried down several flights of stairs. His vision blurs. In. Out. Red. He remembers red lights but he wasn't sure if they were real. The omen was tossed into the cell, his body crumpling on the stone slab as the bars slam down. Groaning he spits out the gag lodged in his maw, rolling onto his side. There was darkness below the cage. Bron weakly tried to sit up and view those who put him there, their words warbled with his ringing ears. He says something but he doesn't hear the words he says - only feeling his lips meekly move. Then he was alone. Bron slowly blinks as the wounds from being kicked and beaten began to swell on his body into lumps and bruises. Everything ached. The omen slumped onto his side, his eyes adjusting to the dark. Faint red flickered from the single torch present in the room. This was it, wasn't it? The end... He swore he could hear the gnashing of teeth below, the cackling cries of demons trying to call him back from the magics that made him. Hands reached out from the abyss beneath him, their dark claws grasping the edge of the cage. Give in. Give in. They hate you. You are selfish. You failed. You are nothing. Mistake. Waste of space. Animal. Demon. Join us. Join us. JOIN US. JOIN US. JOIN US NICK! Bron covered his eyes, closing his eyes, curling in on himself. The young druid tried desperately to hear the voices of nature instead as the assault of his own thoughts tore into his pysch. All he wanted was to live. His soul to thrive. Why was this too much to ask? As the dark encroached on him he muttered what words he could to try and keep little hope alive. His kindling words flickered, his voice rasping. "In the face of uncertainty, in the darkest of hours that ea shall face, ea will not falter. Ea will not give into the easier path. Ea will not cave to the ease of the shadow." For hours he repeated his vow.. over.. and over.. and over.. Aspects.. please.. don't abandon me too.

"So the dragons fire has gone out?" An omen murmurs, letting the wind carry the paper holding that information away. "This changes little... a new head takes charge of the hydra. Will it be just as monstrous as the last?" Nature sat in silence to Bron's question. For they were unable to know the future.

Selfish. Isn't self preservation akin to being selfish? The want to live as long as one can. The desire to want something better for yourself that you never had the chance of knowing since you were a boy? Me wanting to leave Lichtenwald and live among common folk was selfish. Me wanting to become something great.. to leave my own echo in the world like many others wish, is selfish. Me wanting to have love and create love in turn is selfish. Me wanting to save my self when the gods themselves deem me unworthy for their skies is selfish. If living. Breathing. If all of it is deemed selfish, then I guess I will live selfishly. I wasn't born with the instinct of causing misery. I was born hungry and desiring warmth, just as any other babe. Yet as I aged, I found that the world does not care if you're hungry or warm... It cares how you tend to your needs. And if you don't tend to them their way, well. That is a problem. I never meant to hurt anyone. This dark cloud that hovers over me like some foreboding storm lashes out at the worse of times. I am human. Under the horns and fangs. I am. And humans make mistakes. I am human. ________________________________________________ "Bron?" "Hm?" The omen looks over at his wife laying next to him in bed, the pencil in his fingers lowering. The notebook illuminated by gentle candle light flips closed with him no longer looking. "It's time to rest." "..Ea can't sleep." He murmured in reply, setting the pencil down and rolling over to face Solveig. The pair huddled close with their children sleeping nearby in a bunk bed within a dark cobbled room. "You need to try... we are here now...just try." Solveig kissed his cheek, huddling close to his chest. The omen laid there for a bit before blowing out the candle, diminishing the light from their sanctuary. They were here because of him. This was his fault. Bron laid there in the dark, his chin resting on his wife's head. He could hear her heart beat and the tiny scampering behind the walls. His eyes fluttered once. Twice. Rest takes him and within the confines of his mind, Bron was haunted by familiar Yellow Eyes. You are more like me than you care to admit grandson...

The war is over. Bron looks over the decree as written by the emperor. United. So the words say. United in his eyes perhaps. But is this empire of man truly unified? In the omens eyes... no. There will always be discontent. Differences that people can't tolerate. It was only a matter of time for those who lusted for more to begin to surface again. Yet the cursed child couldn't help but have the wishful thought that perhaps with the dragon getting his desired outcome that there may be a period of peace. However fleeting. Bron inhales deeply, pushing the paper into his saddle bag. Clicking his tongue the warrior bid his horse onward. There was still work to be done.

Bron hadn't seen Fod in some time. He wondered where the little goblin had gone off too...

The Archdruid, Traskaath, sat himself down on a rock nearby, he had fetched himself a piece of windfall as he began to carve away while the Cursed Child experienced his visions. Bron had been experiences odd things with his totem. The totem looking different in sleepless moments. Perhaps inducing a vision would aid the omen in finding out what was going on. He waited for Bron to drift off, working at his carving. ------------- In the dream world... -------------- Brons head snapped around, hearing a strange call. It sounded like the bark of a fox but warbled or muffled. He slowly began to move towards the sound in the dark space, ears twitching to hone in on the sound. As he walked he would find the dark giving way to a cave mouth; He steps out and stills. This.. This was Lichtenwald.. Back on Aevos. Bron looked about, the sound of the bark ringing out again. Quickly he moved through the frozen grass, his hooves crunching against the frozen blades. He catches a glimpse of red flashing out of the corner of his eye, slipping into the make shift tavern. “Wait-” He called out. Bron runs to where he recalled the entrance being. The gates were down.. The omen frowned - even in the waking world his face gently contorted to the expression. Huffing, Bron shuffled around the side of the wall surrounding the tavern. He had scaled the wall many times as a kid. Doing it here should be no issue. The omen grasps the ledge of the roof, his hooves scrabbling on the divets in the wood as he pulled himself up. Bron rolls onto his back once on the roof before slipping down into the locked off area with a thud. He clicks his tongue as if calling for his scrowls. “Come out- eam niet going to hurt vy.. Vy led ea in the last vision.. Why are vy here?” The skittering of small paws and a trill filled the omens ears as he looked under tables for the spirit. He would turn, seeing the small fox perched on the fireplace, tail swishing back and forth. “There vy are-” Bron stands upright, walking towards what he believed to be a spirit. “Can vy speak?” The fox tilts its head curiously at Brons question. With no answer given Bron sighed, rubbing the back of his head. “Who am ea kidding. Eam high off eam rocker, talking to eamself…” The fox leaps down from the fireplace onto the couch across from the warmth. As Bron's eyes followed it he blinked in surprise. It was.. himself.. On the couch. Well, a child version of himself, fast asleep. Was he really that small then? Bron watched the fox settle on the boys hip, tail curling around its paws. What was the fox wanting? Bron hesitantly stepped to the child, looking down at himself. His eyes soften. Aspects, he couldn't recall the last time he was without scars. Bron slowly reached out to brush hair from the kids face but hesitates.. In the moment of hesitation the child's eyes open. Familiar black pupils blink up at the man. Bron's jaw opens but no words come out. Child Nickolai sits up, holding the fox close. “Have ea become the best bard in the world?” Bron's ears flick back as his own inner child asked him this. “Niet kid.. W-…ea haven't….” “Oh..” The kids face becomes crestfallen. “…..ea still have family right?.. Papaej and papa? All eam new friends… they are still here right?” Bron's ears lower further. The aged omen stepped forward, bending on a knee to look himself in the eye. “…Ja. And niet.. Ea have..Many friends.. Ea made numerous.. But ea have lost some too.. Papaej and papa aren't around anymore…” The omen watched as hope began to wither away from the youth. Instinctively Bron placed his amatii hand on the kids knee. “Eam ordak…ea have carved a place in the world for eamself.. Ea have lost some things.. Some people.. But ea…ea am known..” The fox tilts its head, cuddling close to the child as Nickolai listened. “What am I known for?” As Nickolai asked this, the fox peers back at the adult, as if staring into his soul. Bron hesitates, unsure how to answer. What was he known for? Before he could form words the flames in the fire place turn into a deep prussian blue with a howl of the wind. The fox began to growl, chatter in the kids arms. Nickolai whimpers, curling up on the couch and staring at the doorway. Bron looks over his shoulder from his crouched position. His heart sinks upon seeing the blue tyrant step into the door frame, having to lower his head to even get inside. “Nicky… it's about time you joined me don't you think?” Bron instinctively placed himself between the vision of Kroza and his youth self. Bron's fingers in the waking world clench together, the amatii squeaking. “He- eam niet joining vy. He didn't then.. Ea won't now.” Bron says coolly to his grandfather, the whimpers behind him slowly making him more and more upset. “Oh perhaps not now Nicky but… in time you will” Bron swallowed as the tyrants shadow washed over him, the demon king towering over his form as the cries of the fox grew louder, the tiny spirit snapping its teeth at the air. The youth on the couch was gone. Bron felt so.. Small.. He was a child again, beneath Kroza. Nickolai felt himself tremble as Kroza's serpentine head lowered to his level, those slitted yellow eyes boring into him. “What makes you so special that you think you can avoid my influence? You are just like your father.. A coward.. Always reaching for what isn't yours to claim.. Always pining to be adored. Your place is at the worlds feet. It always was. It always will be.” Nickolai trembled, his head lowering. A clawed finger forced him to look back up. “You turn away from the one who would truly accept you as you are… with me you would take what is yours. With me you would take that adoration you so crave.. All you have to do grandson.. Is say the word.” Nickolai trembled, stammering beneath the piercing gaze of Kroza. In the waking world sweat rolled down his face, a grimace of discomfort apparent. “E-ea.. Ea…” The fox growls up at the vision of his grandfather, nipping at the demons ankles only for Kroza to kick the spirit aside with a sharp yelp. Nickolai gasped, looking up at Kroza in fear. “So.. What is it going to be? It is your choice Nicky..” As Nickolai stared up at the vision of his grandfather, the room beginning to feel as if it were closing in on him, his eyes flicker to where the fox fell. Next to it was the stone hatchet Reinhard had made him. Memories of him learning how to use it from his father rapidly fire off in succession. Nickolai swallows, looking back up at Kroza. “Ea.. Ea will never join vy! VY RUINED OUR FAMILY!” Nickolai grasps the stone hatchet and lets out a cry, swinging it at Kroza's form. To Nickolai's surprise, the hatchet cracks through the demon kings skull, the vision of his grandfather roaring out in anger before being consumed by blue fire- the ashes being blown away. Nickolai drops the hatchet, crumbling to his knees as he began to hug himself, rocking back and forth sobbing. There was silence save for the child's cries till Nickolai felt something wet touching his face. The child looks up sniffling. It was the fox, licking his face. Without hesitation, Nickolai pulled the spirit into an embrace. Bron opened his eyes, finding himself as an adult once more in the darkness again. He looks down, releasing the fox but finding its appearance to be different. The man observed the strange feathers along the animals forearms and its avian front limbs. The fox creature slowly sits down, the pair looking at each other. “…Is…this what vy wanted to show eam?” He asked quietly. “…How far ea have come?..That-” You are not your ancestors sins. You are the path you have carved. Bron falls quiet, watching the Enfield turn and trot off, a trail of golden mist lighting its path in its wake. Bron quietly followed… his vision fading. Bron suddenly sits up, gasping as if he were drowning. “Hileia.” Traskaaath bids, perking up. “Breathe Ye're back.” Bron swallows, gulping down air as he wiped his face free of sweat. “Back.. Back..H..How long was ea.. Out?” “Long enough.” The wood elf said as he stood up, he offered a hand to Bron. “Arise, Brother.” He paused, waiting for Bron to announce his new Totem. Bron takes Traskaath's hand, getting to his hooves. “Enfield..” He wasn't sure what the word meant but..It felt right. He then hugs the archdruid. Traskaath returned the embrace, gently patting the little druid on the back. “Mar'ayla. Go take some time to rest, these visions can be heavy.” He held the embrace a little longer, letting the omen find his peace. Special thanks to @DankuzMemuz, thanks for the rp of getting my totem sorted, and special shout out to@SethWolf as was heavily inspired to rp my vision this way based on his Character Kroza

MC Name: ChainedDragons Discord: ChainedDragons Image: Description of Image: Fairy ring diagram Dimensions: 1x2 [2 maps high]

[This is for entertainment purposes only; please do not meta] Bron lay in bed sweating heavily. A night terror had him in its grip, refusing to let go. He was reliving his last encounter with Kroza'kiiz. What could he have done differently? The omen shivered, restlessness dominating his will as his nightmare commenced. ----- "...Well, well, well..." "Stay away from eam and eam family!" "We began a game we never quite got to finish. I wish only for a duel, Nicky. You and I. No tricks. No schemes. "What would this duel serve? We both know if vy lose vy will just come back. What do vy gain from dueling eam Kroza? Speak plainly for once." "What if I'm merely here for the sport of it? You are a soul who cannot be bent, and so.. I wish to see what you are truly made of. Nickolai, I am offering you a deal. Name your bounty. Speak it aloud, before the hells below. Whatever your wish, I will grant it. So long of course that it doesn't include me slitting my throat." "...Ea do niet wish for a bounty. Ea wish for eam family and ea to be left alone. In peace. Ea will duel vy grandfather but do niet think for a moment that eam going to take a deal from vy. Nyie matter how much vy present it as a boon." "Fight me fairly, and I swear to you - on the name of Kiiztria, lord of Venom, that should you win... I shall leave you and your issue be, for all time." "Ea want this to be a proper duel then. Ea wish for the one ea serve to watch. Ea want a man of honor to over see us. Ea will niet let it be done in the shadow. Let it be in the open for the world to see." "Denied. We can do this my way or.. we can do it another way. The choice is now yours, Nickolai." "Look what vyr way got vy. Damnnation. Let it be vyr way then, one last time." "You don't get it, do you? I don't want to kill you. I just want to win." ----- Bron rolled around in his sleep, unable to wake himself. The memory of how Kroza took his duelist stance and lunged at him with confidence in his azhl blade dragged the rest of the memory out to play in his slumber. ------ Bron's blade collided with his grandfathers as Kroza leapt forward. Sparks and cold metal chippings splintered with the clashing of blades as the omen pushed back with an upward stroke towards Kroza's shoulder. The demon retorted the blow to his shoulder pauldron with a flick of his blade to Bron's helm visor, sending the omen off balance. Bron moved with the motion of the blade hitting his helm only to swing his flaming sword in a back handed motion into Kroza's sided, slicing open a patch between the plates as well as catching chainmail. Black trickled down the demons side. Kroza wrapped his fist around the handle of his sword and sent a savage punch against Bron's face plate, sending the man staggering backwards. The Astor feels his nose snap, blood dribbling down his chin. Having managed to save himself from falling on his ass, the omen takes a defensive stance, his quill tail rattling menacingly behind him with the ferocity of a rattle snake. Kroza finally registers he was wounded upon touching his side, finding black now staining his hand. He surged forward with the intent to mislead his grandson, feinting a blow only for the true one to go for the underside of the omens arm. Bron noticed the misdirection too late, bringing his blade up to grind against the hungry azhl but he wasn't fast enough. He feels the bite of azhl getting through his armor and slicing his arm. Even if it was but a cut the poison would begin to ebb into his system, spreading a familiar sensation of a dull throbbing pain. He tries to shove his grandfather back with force to which Kroza giddily obliged. Bron would begin to realize what Kroza was intending as the demon tilted its head with a devious smile, beckoning his grandson. As if to say 'Come on'. Bron scowled and darted in close as if to impale Kroza on his bastard sword only to bring his handless arm up and punch Kroza full force in the face plate to stun him. The demon fell for his own deception, feeling a cracking hit against his face whilst he defended himself from Bron's blade. Kroza rushed forwards again, sending out a powerful strike across Bron's midsection, aiming to buy time. The omen turned his body to avoid the blow and as he spun, he brought his blade and tail around in tandem, knocking the demon off balance into the dirt. Bron tightened his grip on his sword, feeling the azhl in his system beginning to drain his strength. He feared dropping his only defense. With Kroza prone, Bron stepped forward and stabbed downward, aiming to finish the fight. Yet Kroza blocked the blade, sending it backwards directly into his own windpipe. A sputter of black blood came forth through the cracks of the visor with a gargled yell. Bron felt his blood run cold as he saw that eerie familiar toothy grin beneath Kroza's helm. Before he could react he was launched backwards by a mighty kick of Kroza's. The omen let out a sucking gasp as he smacked into the tree trunk behind him, the blade falling from his hands. Get up. Get up. He grasped the trees bark, trying to drag himself upright. Blood pooled down Kroza's chest plate as he stalked towards Bron. He leaned his entire body backwards and sent a fist flying towards his grandsons helm, his foot pinning the omens sword down. Bron had to let himself drop back to the ground to avoid the punch, cringing as the fist tore a chunk out of the tree where his head was moments ago. Flicking his amatii arms wrist, Bron screamed as he lunged at Kroza from below - trying to stab him in the gut and pin his grandfather to the ground. Bron's blade found Kroza's gut. Blood trickled from the wound and as Bron looked up and met Kroza's gaze he watched in horror as the form his grandfather had taken tore itself apart. Kroza's plate began to strain and rip, chain mail splinting off of him as malflame licked his body. The demon grew in size, towering over the omen in his true form. Yelps of pain left Bron as he staggered back from Kroza, the malflame eating at his tail and legs that were not protected by armor. The mans breaths grew ragged as he withdrew the last weapon on his person. His aurum shamshir. "What.. vy.. can't handle fighting at the same height as eam?" He taunts his grandfather with words though his words shake with fatigue, hoping that by attacking Kroza's pride he could get some time. "Vy have to resort to becoming an overgrown newt?" Bron's eyes widen in horror beneath his helm as Kroza's maw began to glow, each connical tooth beginning to shimmer with infernal energy. The omen knew what was coming. He drops his shamshir in a desperate bid to end the fight quickly - reaching into his bag. If any of the aspects were listening please let this work. Grasping a volital bottle, the omen stumbled towards Kroza with a scream. He shoved his amatii fist into the demons throat, clutching the blast potion bottle tightly. Bron tried to get it far back as he could. The sickening crushing sound of metal along with pressure being applied to his skull and torso is what caused the omen to momentarily panic. He hadn't pulled his arm back in time - Kroza had him. Kroza had bitten down on Bron, snapping the yisar horns off of his helm. A soundless yell left the omen as the pressure increased on his skull and torso, feeling teeth press into his flesh. Kroza paused - waiting. He could feel the bottle like shape in the back of his throat. For a moment even the demon hesitated. Fearful of the end.. fearful of leaving his family alone, the omen let his fingers losen, the bottle gently dropping in Krozas throat intact. The omen made a last ditch effort to free himself. Weakly trying to swing what parts of his body were free upward, in a bid to get his quilled tail to hit Kroza in the face. I can't die here. Please. I need more time. Kroza - at the subtle note of himself being still in one piece, crunched down slightly harder before throwing Bron back against the tree. He coughs up the blast potion and spat it into the nearby lake. The demon looked back to where his grandson had landed, the helm that once adorned the omens head in pieces on the ground. Kroza approached, slamming his foot down on the amatii arm. He was not going to make the same mistake twice, digging his claws into the ground. "You half-win.." Kroza admits. For truely in that one moment his life was in Brons hands. "I give you ten years." He spoke with a measure of respect. "That and I take a bit of your soul." Bron cried out, feeling his body jerk about as his soul was taken from him in pieces. ----- Bron jerks awake with a sucking gasp, eyes wide as sweat rolled down his face. The omen looks around fearfully. Solveig was at his side, still asleep. Swallowing he got up, limping to the kids room. They were still there too.. His screowls watched him stagger around the house, checking all the windows and doors. The omen was unable to return to bed...fearing he would relive that encounter again. Bron grasped his sword as best as he could with his broken amatii fingers, staring at the main entry of the house in silent vigil for the rest of the night. ----------------------------------- [OOC: A HUGE thank you to @SethWolf @BonesOfTheEarth @jihsoo for the FANTASTIC rp we had the other night - I primarily focused on Kroza and Brons interactions for the evening as otherwise this forum post would be WAY too long and I would have taken even longer to write it. The post is a combination of actual quoted RP from myself and Seth and reworded portions of the rp in the context of Bron having a nightmare, reliving the fight. I hope you found the read enjoyable. ]

MC Name: ChainedDragons Discord: ChainedDragons Image: Description of Image: A Help wanted poster Dimensions: 1

Bron hissed upon reading the document, tossing it into the fire of his forge. "If it is a fight vy want then so be it. If ea can send Kroza back to the hells then ea certainly attempt to do the same with vy." The 'baby' verdant felt his blood boil with natures recent cries. This cursed child would not let the darkness corrupt his new family.

What world of spiteful old ones had this young druii stepped into. Bron had no idea but his journey had only begun...

MC Name: ChainedDragons Discord: ChainedDragons Image: Description of Image: Dragon Diagram Dimensions: 1x2 [2 maps high]

MC Name: ChainedDragons Discord: ChainedDragons Image: Description of Image: werebeast Diagram Dimensions: 1x2 [2 maps high]

MC Name: ChainedDragons Discord: ChainedDragons Image: Description of Image: Vampire Diagram Dimensions: 1x2 [2 maps high]

MC Name: ChainedDragons Discord: ChainedDragons Image: Description of Image: Shroomkin Diagram Dimensions: 1x2 [2 maps high]

Bron stares at the document. "Vy know... ea knew ea had gotten eam hopes up again. Believing that this new pontiff would be different.. it doesn't appear to be the case." He tosses the parchment into the fireplace, a huff leaving him. "Death circles but ea will keep being one step ahead.. just let eam luck hold."

MC Name: ChainedDragons Discord: ChainedDragons Image: Description of Image: dragon picture in the shape of a circle [if the white could be removed that would be amazing] Dimensions: 1

The fox never found a better messenger than himself [Irish Proverb] Acceptance of what we cannot control, is harder than one may expect. "Who said that?" Yield. Surrender. So, is it that this life falls between life and death. It is nature's will, that makes it so. Life happens wherever you area. Whether you make it or not. "Are vy the one who made eam see that... that dream? Nightmare- why? Are vy trying to tell eam that ea need to give up? Ea don't understand." Giving up is not the same, as accepting. Surrendering to the fact that the tides will crash upon rocky shores, the winds will gather to create storms. Failure is the only way to begin again. Only this time, more wisely. "If vyr lesson is that ea need to accept what ea can't change then...ea think ea got it, but as vy said.. learning such change takes time." Time will be granted, it is never ceasing, never ending. Control over the elements, is not granted to those who abuse it. Only will time continue to plague and mar them, similarity to a blight consuming the glade. You will understand. Nature will tell you of your time, Bronadron Callaghan. Nature sung its song as the omen awoke with another name: The Fox.

MC Name: ChainedDragons Discord: ChainedDragons Image: Description of Image: Wolf picture in the shape of a circle [if the white could be removed it would be amazing] Dimensions: 1

Bron smiled from his sick bed. Evil being driven bck to the reaches it came from. Always good news.

Bron read the missive once. Then twice. Then three times. "Eh?" He was certain his brain was misreading the page. Did this man help two atronarchs marry or did he marry two atronachs???? The cursed child sat there puzzled for so long he nearly forgot to make his kids breakfast.