The Courtyard [EVENT ROOM 3]

[orphans]

Azza has been hauled behind the statue by the 'dragon ' (Elijah)!

Azza’s hands and knees were still smarting from hitting the polished stone floor, but at the very least she didn’t end up on her face. Even so, it was quite the blunder to have flung every single dessert. Wait! That wasn’t the most pressing matter. The ‘dragon’ looked to be really panicked and the man beside him, a sway agent from the looks of it, was practically purple while the veins of his temples were near bursting.

Before she could apologize however, she found her arm grabbed by the ‘dragon’ and him declaring that she was his niece! That was rather doubtful, but then again stranger things have happened in family bloodlines. Adding to his story, Azza nodded her head quickly as well before being dragged out into the courtyard by him. She managed to catch the glimpse of several others - are they throwing snowballs?

Azza didn’t have much time to contemplate it as the ‘dragon’ hauled her behind a rather large marble statue. The first words out of the mouth of the man behind the dragon mask had her frowning and scrunching up her face a little. She had an inkling that he was talking about her raw aura unless he meant it as some sort of odd flirting gesture. “Thank… you?” she eventually managed after calming herself a little as well.

When the ‘dragon’ took off his mask, Azza felt a clear knock of remembrance to when she first began to become aware of the world around her. The memory itself gave her a chuckle as she looked at the man’s face. With the moonlight and the snow reflecting the dim brilliance it was more than enough for Azza to recognize the man as the one from her dreams so long ago; back when she was still fragmented and unwhole.

Though by the looks of it, he had aged. Much more so than her even though both of them had grown older. “I see that time hasn’t exactly been kind to you, has it... ?” She never get his name did she? If she did she certainly couldn't recall.

Azza didn’t get much further than that when a sudden cacophony of noise and gusting winds began to buffet the surrounding. Glass shattered, screams echoed, and above all the feeling of panic. Something in Azza’s chest tightened as she resisted the urge to use a barrier, but this was an attack, wasn’t it?

Then just as quickly it was over. Looking around the courtyard while confusion settled in, she could have sworn something rustled past her and the ‘dragon’ on the other side of the statue just as the guards began to shout to block the exits. That no one was to leave. That Lord Iverstead was dead. Glancing over to the unmasked ‘dragon,’ she whispered, “I’m guessing this isn’t normal, or is it just a Salvarian thing?”