Days like this were supposed to be fun, but all Damien Thorne really felt was lethargy.

He was usually quite focused when he had work to do, which made today especially perplexing for him. It was easy work - angles of support and the corresponding length of stilts, mostly - and yet his mind kept wandering off, going back to that train of thought he couldn't quite place as here or there. It frustrated him beyond measure.

He crumpled up the hastily-sketched blueprint in front of him and threw it to the side, letting it join the pile of discarded plans littering the floor of his workspace. Somehow, having a big house didn't make him any more organized than a small one did.

"Dammit," he cursed quietly to himself, leaning forward in his chair to put his elbows on his desk and run his hands through his hair. "What the hell's wrong with me?"

"Don't be too hard on yourself," came a familiar voice from the doorway. "It's no one's best day."

Damien swiveled around in his chair to face Felix, one of his most frequent visitors. "Felix, I didn't hear you come in."

"I'm very stealthy that way," Felix said. "What are you still doing here?"

"What do you mean? I'm working."

Felix rolled his eyes and snaked a hand under Damien's arm to try to pull him to his feet. "You're going to be late, is what I mean. Don't tell me you forgot. Today's the mid-spring fete."

Damien sighed and let his head loll. "I didn't forget, but I was kind of hoping everyone else would."

"This is one of the biggest celebrations in the country," Felix reminded him, dragging him towards the front door.

Damien took a moment before they left to check on Marshal, who was flitting about in his cage even though the door was open. He seemed perfectly content to stay where there was a small pool of ready nectar for him rather than fly around in the open air today. So he was feeling sluggish too, today. Damien could let him rest.

"Every celebration is the biggest in this country," Damien whined, rejoining Felix. "I'm working today."

"You're working every day."

"I still don't understand why they didn't just reschedule," Damien said as they exited the house and walked over the bamboo bridges that connected the treetop houses like extremely elevated roads. "The queen died two days ago. They couldn't give the kingdom more time to mourn? Arona was a great queen and people won't move on from her quickly."

"This fete is tradition, and we can't exactly reschedule the middle of spring," Felix said. "Listen, I'm not thrilled either. I don't think anyone is. Tonight's festivities will undoubtedly be blander than ever. But look at it this way: this will bring the kingdom together. Sharing grief makes it more bearable."

Damien nodded solemnly as he tugged at one of the levers on the elevator mechanism. He had designed this method when he found ladders and stairs to be too inefficient for a civilization that lived hundreds of feet above the ground. A platform to stand on that went up and down on its own was far easier and more convenient for everyone, and rocks to weigh down the other end of the pulley were not exactly in short supply. He'd been rewarded for his brilliance with a personal visit from Queen Arona to thank him. He wouldn't be getting any more of those.

He and Felix stepped onto the flat of the platform and unclipped the stopper to lower themselves to the ground.

"You better hope there are still some guides waiting to take latecomers to the center of the city," Felix said. "If I miss my performance because you decided you wanted to live at the very edge of the city for no reason, I'm going to kill you."

"It wasn't for no reason!" Damien protested. "I'm helping with expansion, and I have to be close to where the expanding is going to be happening. Also, the houses near the edge of the city are much bigger. And have better designs. Probably because I designed them."

They reached the ground and stepped off in unison, letting the elevator hurry back to the treetops without them. Thankfully, it seemed there was one guide waiting by the start of the path to the city's central hub. He was seated atop one of the many elephants they employed, talking to a small white bird that might have been the living embodiment of a cotton ball. Damien recognized him.

"Hey, you two," Ignacius Valentine said as they approached. "You are lucky I hate social gatherings as much as I do, because otherwise I would not still be here."

"Hey... um-" Felix started.

"Val," Demien whispered in his ear.

"Hey, Val," Felix finished. "We owe you one."

"Everyone in this city owes me at least one by now," Val agreed as Damien and Felix used the ramps to get on the elephant's back. "Hold on. We'll have to go somewhat fast if we want to make it before the celebrations really start."

"In that case, let's go slow," Damien suggested.

❁

Days like this were always supposed to be fun, but all Ignacius Valentine - or Val, as he'd much prefer to be called - really felt was discomfort.

He didn't particularly understand people on normal days when everyone was happy and willing to talk to someone like him. On days like this, when everyone was in a post-assassination haze, talking to them was a minefield. One wrong word and he knew he might break a dam.

He'd never known the Queen. He'd seen her once or twice around the city. He'd seen some of his fellow guides ferrying her to and fro. He'd always avoided that responsibility. He didn't trust himself not to make a fool of himself in front of a royalty figure. Now he wished he had taken the opportunity while it was still available. From people's descriptions, she was the kind of queen that he would have liked to know.

Once Damien and Felix were seated safely on the harness strapped over Jinx's back, Val tapped the large elephant by his ear and whispered with words laced with magic undertones, "Alright, Jinx, take us to the center of the city."

Talking with animals wasn't what a lot of people in Janbu thought it was. They didn't speak explicitly with words or through precise language. The guides' brand of magic was better at communicating ideas, and sure, words helped to ease the way, but the gist of the real communication was just exchanging vague mental concepts since most animals didn't have the capacity for human language.

This was a relief for Val, who wasn't particularly good with human language himself. Talking this way, it was much easier to get his point across without any of the awkwardness of saying the wrong thing or using the wrong tone. It was just the meaning behind the words. Plain and simple.

Felix and Damien were talking to each other where they were seated, but Val was crouched atop Jinx's neck, where he could face Berri, who was prancing around on Jinx's head. The little albino kiwi was doing his best to balance as the larger animal moved, and though he stumbled often, Val wasn't terribly worried. Even if he did fall, he wouldn't be hard to catch.

"What do you think, Berri?" Val asked the bird, stroking his gently on the side of his neck. "Should we actually go watch the celebration, or maybe just stay on the ground tonight?"

Berri chirped gently, thinking back, "Ground. Ground fun berries. Worms seeds. Food. Ground."

"I have seeds and berries for you right here," Val reminded him, gesturing to the pouch at his belt filled with most of Berri's food. "But maybe you're right. I don't want to impose somewhere I don't belong."

"Don't belong?" repeated a voice from his left. He looked over and down to find that Jinx had taken the route right next to the river, meaning that Nithri Fells had the opportunity to steer her dolphin-pulled boat right next to him to hold a conversation. "Oh, come on, Val. Don't be so hard on yourself."

Nithri was almost always as late as Val was, probably because she was almost as awkward. Many guides were something like recluses, preferring to spend time among animals rather than among people. Nithri was one of the guides who specialized in river travels since she got along best with the pink dolphins who pulled her boats (Val had once had a good relationship with them too, until a certain angry honey badger had made a scene and gotten the dolphins involved with a rather large anaconda. After that, the dolphins never trusted him again.). Right now, there was no one else in her boat, though.

Jinx, upon seeing one of his old friends, waved his trunk happily at Nithri, his mind going off in chimes of "Nithri, Nithri, tree girl, hello! Hello!"

Nithri waved back at Jinx before turning back to Val. "I'm sure most people would love to have you around. You haven't watched one of Leo's performances in a while, anyways."

"Not one of his professional ones, no," Val ceded, "But I am subject to most of his spontaneous, out-of-nowhere-with-no-leadup rehearsals, and I've had enough of those to last a lifetime. Don't get me wrong," he added quickly, "I still love his music. I just don't know if I'm in the mood for a celebration right now."

"That's fair enough," Nithri said. "Honestly, I wasn't planning on going either, until I heard that the councillors might be making a public appearance. You know I grew up in Ailica, which was a pretty strict monarchy. I kind of want to see what a council governing a country looks like. I just wish it were under better circumstances."

"Speaking of Ailica," Val brought up, "Do you believe the rumors? That Ailica was the one who sent the assassin?"

Nithri scoffed. "I don't know, but it's certainly something the king would do. Honestly, I don't know how that country managed to stay functioning. Did you hear the other news? Apparently there was some huge riot in the capital city and the king is dead. I don't know if I believe that bit, but I certainly hope it's true. It was a long time coming if it really happened."

"Well, maybe the councillors will confirm some of the rumors at the fete," Val offered.

They finally reached the hub of the city, and the stomp of feet and din of voices could be heard from the large treetop platforms above them. Jinx slowed to a stop right next to a ramp to let Felix and Damien off.

"Thanks for the ride," Damien said quickly as he and Felix rushed to find a working elevator.

Nithri docked her boat and unlooped the reins from the dolphins' beaks, the animals clicking appreciatively. She gave them a quick thanks before coming over to help Val down from Jinx's neck. He didn't usually need help, but he was cradling Berri on one hand, and dismounting an elephant with only one functional arm was quite a bit more challenging.

"You two are borderline the latest you've ever been," laughed Reece Meraki, joining the scene. He had been sitting by one of the water troughs, clearly unwilling to join the party. It was almost amusing how nearly every guide would rather die than engage in small talk. "What is your secret?"

"Stay all the way at the edge of the city and say you're waiting for stragglers," Nithri advised. "That way you can be late and no one will question you."

"I'll keep it in mind for next time," Reece said.

Val deposited Berri in one of his many pockets and looked up. The fete certainly sounded lively, even if it wasn't particularly festive. Celebrations were meant to bring the community of Ánes closer together. Val couldn't think of a time when it needed to be close more than right now.

Still, he found his eyes drifting away from the main celebration and towards the more hidden center where the councillors and royal family made their homes. The treehouses in that circular neighborhood were old and yet still some of the nicest in the city, sufficing for a treetop palace. They were securely in the center of the city and they were monitored constantly by sentries. It made it all the more perplexing that an assassin had managed to infiltrate the place and murder one of its inhabitants. Arguably the most important inhabitant, in the general public's opinion.

A flash of golden hair far, far above him made him glad he had looked in that direction. Often he found himself looking up from below where no one could see him, just in case he caught a glimpse of the most important inhabitant in his opinion. She was out and about often, though she rarely came to the rainforest floor. That meant these brief sightings of her were the only times he ever got to see her.

He wished he got to see her more, even if just a little bit.

❁

Days like this were always supposed to be fun, but all Penelope Vorago really felt was tiredness. She ached from head to toe, and she had barely been able to drag herself from her bed in the early hours of afternoon. She found it hard to rise before the middle of the day at this point.

She ran a hand through her unkempt golden hair, taking a deep breath. This was the first time in two days she was expected to appear in front of people and look at least somewhat presentable, and she could find the strength in her to respect her people enough to show up for them.

But it had also only been two days since her stepmother had died. She was not going to move on from that so soon.

Her life had felt like a series of one loss leading into another. She could never keep a parent. First it was her mother, then her father, and now Arona. What was next? Who would be taken from her now?

She wasn't expected to be at the fete for a good bit of time yet, but she'd wanted to get up early to do something she'd been neglecting for the past two days.

When her stepmother had died, she'd gone into a sort of hiding. Poppy had stayed in her house, never more grateful for the tradition of each royal family member getting their own abode once they were old enough. It meant she could close all the doors and windows and just cry to herself without having to worry about anyone seeing her like that. Chance, her messenger bird, had brought her food when she found herself unwilling to leave even for a meal, and she slept for the majority of the day. It was easier to stay inside and pretend like she could keep up living like that. Going outside and facing the music would be the same as facing that Arona was dead. She hadn't been willing to do that.

But she'd completely forgotten about Arion.

Arion, who had only ever known one mother and who was bad enough at coping with loss already. Arion, her little brother, who was probably taking this just as badly as she was. Arion, who was expected to give a speech at the fete and pretend like he was in a perfectly fine mental state. She didn't envy him for the responsibility that was about to be placed on his shoulders, even if it would come gently.

She might not be able to keep him safe from that, but she could at least afford him the courtesy of comforting him along the way.

She knocked gently on the door to his house, but found it was not even closed, much less locked. It creaked open as she rapped against it.

"Arion?" she called. "Are you in here?"

"I'm coming, I promise," her brother's voice replied from somewhere in the upstairs area. "I swear, I know I'm late, I just need a little bit more time and I'll be ready-"

Poppy went up the stairs to find Arion rushing back and forth between his various rooms, his face somewhat hidden by his uncombed hair falling into his eyes. He looked almost worse than she did. Almost.

"Hey, Poppy," he said a little shakily, "I'm coming, I swear-" He cut himself off to dash into his bedroom, running his fingers through his disheveled hair. "I just have to find my-"

"Arion," Poppy said, grabbing his wrist to stop him from running away. "We need to talk."

He let her pull him back towards her, though he continued to look down at the floor to hide his face and avoid her eyes. "Look, I'm sorry I haven't come to see you, I should have checked up on you after-"

"No, Arion, that's what I wanted to talk to you about," she interrupted him. "I should have checked on you. I've been a terrible sister these past few days and I know we probably should be talking about this. Can you please look at me?"

Arion finally looked up, and Poppy almost grimaced. He looked awful, like he hadn't slept once in the last two days or eaten anything. His eyes were red and too dry, and he was incredibly pale. His hair was going in every direction, most of it finding some way to fall over his face.

"Oh, yikes," Poppy managed. "I was going to ask if you were okay, but I think I just got my answer."

Arion huffed a short laugh, shaking his head. "I know, I look like I just got spat out by a jaguar. I'm going to clean up for my speech, I just... I just need a bit more time, and I'll be ready."

"Here, let me help," Poppy offered, guiding him over to his vanity desk. She sat him down on the stool and reached for a comb.

She'd spent the last hour or so doing this to herself, finding the energy from some void in her soul to brush and braid her hair. She had used concealing powder to mask the bags under her eyes (despite all the sleep she'd been getting, she felt more tired than ever) and carmen to give some color to her cheeks. A light blue dress and a couple periwinkles in her hair completed the appearance. She had managed to make herself look a little better than someone who'd just been raised from the dead, and she was happy to say that she almost looked presentable. Now all she had to do was act like it.

"Listen, Arion," Poppy started, pulling Arion's hair out of his eyes. "I'm sorry I haven't come to talk to you. That was selfish of me. I just... well, I didn't know what to say to you. What was there to say? Mom was... she was gone, and she's still gone... and now we're alone."

Arion took a deep breath. "She really is gone. It's been two days... I keep waiting for her to knock on my door and tell me to get it together. I don't know what I'm supposed to do without her. Poppy, they're expecting me to give a speech today. What am I supposed to tell them? That she's really dead? They know that. That it was an Ailican assassin? They probably know that, too. There's nothing I can say to them that they want to hear."

"You're wrong," she said as she reached for the concealing powder. "They want to hear anything you have to say. Arion, you're going to be their king soon. They want to know what kind of ruler you're going to be." She realized her mistake as soon as the words left her lips. Arion's lower lips started to tremble and his eyes widened in a silent expression of fear. She gripped his shoulders and turned him around so she could face him. "No. That's not what I meant to say. Arion, they're going to love you, I promise."

"I'm not ready to be king," Arion breathed. "I was supposed to have more time - I was supposed to learn more from her, she wasn't done teaching me - What am I supposed to do without her?"

"We're going to find a way to get through this together, Arion." Poppy let go of his shoulders so she could squeeze his hands. "We're going to make her proud of us."

"You don't understand," Arion said. "We... we had a fight the night before... before she... and I told her I wasn't ready and she kept insisting that I was wrong and... Oh, stars, Poppy, do you know what the last thing I said to her was? I told her I bet she wished I had been someone else's kid. Poppy, she hated me, I never apologized to her..."

Poppy inhaled slowly, trying to take in his words. She hadn't heard anything about a fight. Poppy's own last words to her mother had been something along the lines of 'See you tomorrow'. She had no idea how Arion was feeling. What did someone say to that? "Mom had faith in you," she settled on, getting on her knees to meet his eyes. "I do too. Everyone does. You still have time, Arion. Today's speech is going to be easy. After that, you can take all the time you need to get ready. You've got this."

Arion nodded unsurely. "I just... I just really miss her." He sniffled quietly.

Poppy wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him in for a hug. "I know. I miss her too."

"I'm glad I still have you," he whispered, hugging her back. "Thank you."

"Hey," she said, forcing a cheerful voice, "Don't thank me until my pep talk works. Go give your speech and impress everyone with your ridiculously overstuffed vocabulary, and then we can go out for drinks or something."

Arion laughed. "Alright. Deal."

❁

Days like this were supposed to be fun, but all Zéphine Tenebris really felt was fear.

Zephyr had just brought her the news - thankfully it was via letter and not his own words, or he would have messed it up terribly - and the thing she had been dreading had come to pass.

The letter was short but concise.

Ailica is in shambles. The people rose up against the king and killed him in a brutal riot costing hundreds of civilians' and soldiers' lives. Prince Jasper was among casualties. Princess Rosalind has ascended to the throne. Rather conveniently, the drought has ended. More updates likely to come.

Zef lowered the note and fidgeted with the corner of it, pursing her lips. "So it finally happened."

"What does it say?" Christabel Odette asked, wringing her hands. "Bad news, I can tell. You're doing that thing with your face."

Zef looked at her. "I am not doing a thing with my face. I'm totally unreadable."

"Sure," Chris agreed offhandedly. "So what does it say?"

Zef passed her the note, and she scanned it quickly. "Wow. It really did finally happen."

"I mean, I'm not surprised," Zef murmured as she whirled around and went back inside from the balcony, Zephyr perched on her shoulder. "That country has been in a perpetual state of disaster for seven years. It was bound to happen sooner or later."

"Still," Chris said, following her, "This can't mean anything good."

"The death of a monarch never means anything good," Zef replied solemnly, checking her hair one last time in her mirror. "We'll worry about it later. Today I just need to make sure I make a good first impression. From there I can worry about global politics."

Chris nodded, handing her the note back. Zef neatly folded it and slipped it into a pocket on her belt. "Do you need anything else before I head to the fete?"

"I'm okay," Zef said. "I'm just going to see Arion real quick. He'll want to hear the news. Well, no, he won't want to, but he should."

"Okay, good, because if you did need anything else I wasn't going to do it," Chris said, making her way to the door. "I'm not a servant. See you in a minute, Zef."

"You too," Zef called after her once she was out the door. She had been grateful for Christa's help ever since the disappearance of her mother. Zef had been something of a wreck, obsessed with a search that had thus far been fruitless. Chris was a filter, a good organizer. Zef had joked once that she made a good assistant, and Chris had promptly dropped a stack of papers on the floor for Zef to pick up, so for now they were just sticking with 'she's a friend helping out'.

Zef tucked one stray strand of hair behind her ear before going out the door herself, though she went the opposite way from Chris. Arion's house was right next to hers, and the next one over was Poppy's, and their whole circular neighborhood was just one big target for enemies of the country. Zef had realized after the queen had died what a flawed plan it was to keep every important figure in Janbu in one small area, and she chastised herself every day for not realizing it sooner and being more on her guard. If she had wisened up before her mother had disappeared, maybe she'd still have her. If she'd wisened up after that, maybe Arona would still be alive. But no.

Of course, after this, the entire country would be on its guard, especially near the heart of the city. No one knew how an assassin had managed to get past every sentry in the city, and no one knew if only one assassin had been sent. It was a scary time to be in Janbu.

As she entered Arion's house (the door was already open, unsurprisingly. She'd told him to close and lock it after Arona had... after she recognized the obvious security risks, but he seemed to have lost the motivation to care) she found Poppy was just leaving. The princess looked remarkably good for having been absent the past two days. Zef hadn't wanted to bother her if she wanted to be alone, but she was glad now that Poppy was at least alive enough to look as good as she did.

"You're here to talk to Arion?" Poppy guessed.

"News just came in," Zef told her, pulling out the letter and handing it to Poppy. "He's going to need to know before he goes out there."

Poppy scanned the note and sighed. "The world is really going to hell, huh." She exhaled sharply and handed the letter back to Zef. "I should go and get everyone ready for Arion. See if you can cheer him up a bit, okay? He's... going to need your support."

Zef nodded. "I'll try."

She stepped around Poppy and hiked up her skirt to head up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Arion was still sitting in front of his mirror, speaking under his breath to himself. He was probably rehearsing whatever he planned to say to the people. Poppy had done wonders for his appearance. The past few times she had seen him he looked like he'd just been fished out of the river, but when she was done he actually looked presentable.

"Zef," he whispered when he spotted her, relief seeping into his voice. "Hey."

"Hey, Arion," she said. "You, uh-"

"I know," he said, standing up to meet her. "I look like a mess. Poppy is great, but she can only do so much about this." He gestured to his own face. "You deserve better for your date."

"Don't flatter yourself," she scolded. "We're going as friends, remember? Anyways, I was actually going to say... I just got news from Ailica."

His face fell immediately, dropping into a deep frown. "What's the verdict?"

"Well, the worst has come to pass," she answered. "Or the best, depending on your viewpoint. Rosalind is Queen of Ailica now. The king is dead. Killed by his own people. His son also died."

Arion licked his lips, his expression unreadable. "Good. I hope he suffered. I hope the loss of his son hurt."

"Arion," she said quietly, "You don't mean that."

"He killed my mom," Arion reminded her. "He may not have held the knife, but it was him. He got what was coming to him." He strode around her and grabbed his scarf, tossing it over his shoulders. "Thank you, Zef. I'm in a considerably better mood now. Would you care to join me on our way to the fete?" He offered his arm for her to take.

She hesitated for a moment before taking it. She had never known Arion to be violent, or to revel in the suffering of another. But then, she had never known him to have lost his mother before, so perhaps he was coping in any way he could.

They walked out together, arm in arm, and she pushed her worries from her mind. She could save them for when she didn't have to smile and wave.

Word Count: 4914

Character Appearances:

Damien Thorne by EstelElfstone

Ignacius Valentine by TheExplosiveCyborg 

Penelope Vorago by inej-ghafas

Zéphine Tenebris by me

Also Featuring Appearances From:

Felix Brook by ghostofwolves

Nithri Fells by dobblewolf

Reece Meraki by Avengers14

Christabel Odette by sofififlowers

A/N: So that was the first chapter! I'm sorry for the super duper long wait but school recently has really just not been giving me time to be alive. Hopefully updates will come a little more frequently now that school is almost over.

To give a little bit of context, the Ailican revolt happened something like a week ago, but obviously the internet doesn't exist here so news travels a little more slowly since it has to make it all the way across the desert.

If your character hasn't appeared yet (this goes for side cast as well) then they will next chapter. Let me know what you think of this one! How am I doing so far? I am but a humble writer and I live off votes and comments so spam away, crickets. 

My question for this chapter is: What do you wish was still in fashion/what do you wish could be an acceptable piece of everyday clothing? I want capes and cloaks to be a regular thing again.