Wayfinding | Aaravos x Reader |

⚜ STELLAR ⚜

Eventually, though - despite the festering regret - you decided to toughen up and be there for the lad. But once Harrow was summoned to the palace, and you were on your own, even the thought of looking Uzner in the eyes felt unbearable. So instead offering any assistance, you sat in Seymour's greenhouse for hours on end, haunted by your grotty reflection in the mirror. Fortunately - when dusk turned to dawn, and diligence turned to desperation - Arkeus found a use for you.

He didn't come to the decision easily, however.

See - six winters prior, Neolandia experienced a devastating dry spell. Considering the kingdom was located in the centre of a desert, it was to be expected. But when King Milan learned that people were dying of famine and thirst, he assembled a party of knights, scholars, and healers to study the land and assist whoever they could. Theodore was a member of the elite group. So was Arkeus's beloved, Nimuel, who was the King's most trusted botanical writer. The forger despised the idea of the journey. But when Seymour turned up at his shop one night with a sooty piece of his spouse's most-adored tunic, Smith wished he had protested.

When King Milan investigated, he learned that nearly half of his party fell victim to wildfire caused by a dry thunderstorm - a phenomenon that seemed particularly rare until people associated it with the disreputable archdragon, Avizandum. From that day forward, Milan ruled Katolis cautiously. Like the families of the perished, magic and all things associated went from a beacon of hope to the paragon of wickedness in his eyes.

Arkeus was the same way - even after he detected your magical essence. But after seeing the spirited resemblance between you and Nimuel, he managed to suppress his prejudice. And, although he would never confess, you made the forger question whether Avizandum was really behind his lover's death. Despite that, nothing you did truly merited Smith's unconditional trust. At least, not until you heroically went head-to-head with dozens of ruffians and protected his people at the black-market. Having been occupied with Enox, the man didn't appreciate it that day. But the power you harnessed transcended anything he could have ever imagined. If alchemy lacked the answers to his son's affliction, Arkeus was convinced that you would have a solution.

Yet - at supper - when you were uncharacteristically dour, the forger felt his optimism thin. Your hair, which was always tidied into a braid, was unruly and matted. Your pearly hues were shadowed by, what he assumed was, restless nights. And the creases of a frown littered your face like aged leather. Oblivious and gullible as he was, the man still managed to descried your trepidation.

"(Y/n)?" He cooed, nudging you with his shoulder. "Is something the matter?"

Snapping out of your daze, you shook your head and improvised a grin. "Nothing, sir. Tired is all . . ." You muttered, lowering your eyes to the table as you set down the cutlery.

"I noticed that you-" Arkeus paused mid-sentenced. He chanced a guarded look towards Theodore, who was fetching wine from the kitchen cellar, before returning his gaze to you. "I noticed that you've been quite distant since our last conversation. I just wanted to loop in and make sure you're alright."

"I don't . . . I don't mean to be distant."

"That's okay! Not to worry – but just know that if you need help with your . . . your-"

"Magic."

"Yes -" the forger beamed, animatedly. "Your magic. Just give me a shout, and I'll be there."

That was the issue.

For a moment, and a moment only, when Arkeus assigned you the task to protect Uzner, a vibrant surge of exhilaration surge over you. You finally had a purpose – a way to help. Yet, as the forger barreled on about his plan, you realized that you were not as competent as you originally imagined. You assessed all the arcanums you were tethered to and filed through every malediction your subconscious knew – but none of it could do what he asked.