Vincent watched from a distance, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt of his great sword. Beside him, his betrothed- High Priestess Miruna- stood calm and composed, her eyes gleaming with the wisdom of the Goddess she represented. Her mere presence was a quiet assurance in the chaos. She gave him a subtle nod, signaling that it was safe to approach the fae prince, but Vincent remained cautious.

Miruna had warned him this fae would kill anyone he perceived as a threat to Marcelia, and frankly, Vincent couldn't blame him. He would do the same for his little sister.

"Prince of the Fae!" Vincent called, his voice steady but respectful as Miruna had instructed. "I mean you no harm, and though I will not give you my name, I will tell you what it is."

Rayner's protective growl rumbled from deep in his chest, his body still partly hunched over Marcelia as if shielding her from danger. His darkened hair, an eerie, unnatural black, the flowers on his horns long since withered. His eyes gleamed in the dim light, full of distrust as he gazed at the human. When he spoke, his voice was a low, resonant hum in the tongue of the fae.

"Clever human…" Rayner growled, his words rolled out like a low, menacing chant dripping with suspicion. His glowing eyes flicked to Miruna, narrowing as he recognized her true nature, a divine presence. "You bring a goddess in mortal flesh with you, no less. State your purpose with me and my Tyngan quickly, or suffer."

Miruna was glad for the fact Vincent could not understand the fae tongue, translated calmly. "He wants to know why we are here."

Vincent swallowed but held his ground, knowing the stakes. "My name is Vincent Ravenswood," he said, forcing his voice to remain steady. "We need to get into what is left of the manor- Julius's room. There are things there, things that he hid from the Magistrate, and if they find them, it could spell disaster for many. Julius and even Marcelia would never forgive me if I didn't act now."

Rayner's growl deepened, his monstrous form stiffening. "Why should I trust you with your brother's secrets?" he snarled in the fae tongue, his words a clear warning.

Miruna, her tone ever calm, translated again for Vincent, glancing at him to gauge his response.

Vincent took a deep breath, keeping his voice controlled. "Because if the Magistrate gets hold of what Julius has hidden, it will be more than just our family that suffers. It could hurt a lot of people."

Miruna added softly, "We're also looking for Julius's cat. It was on his lap when the blast happened and survived, but now it's trapped. We need to save him and recover everything before the Magistrate gets here."

Rayner's obsidian-black horns glinted as his head tilted slightly. The ravens that circled above echoed his presence, croaking reassurances that Vincent could be trusted. But Rayner remained on edge, his claws flexing into the ground as he considered the situation. "You play a dangerous game, human. But for my Tyngan's sake, I will allow it." His voice was colder now, but there was a reluctant acceptance in his tone. "Move swiftly, or you will regret crossing me."

Miruna's calm voice broke the tension. "He's agreed, but we don't have much time."

As Vincent turned to leave, Miruna stepped closer to Rayner, her tone soft but commanding. "After we've collected everything, we'll need you to destroy Julius's room completely," she said. "If the Magistrate sees anything suspicious left behind, they'll know we've been here. We need your power to make sure nothing remains."

Rayner growled low, his eyes still glowing with protective rage. "If it keeps Marcelia safe, I'll do it," he responded in the fae tongue, his monstrous voice still rough but resolute.

Vincent nodded in agreement to Miruna's translation. "We'll make sure Marcelia is secure."

Gently, Vincent moved closer to Marcelia's sleeping form, cradled in Rayner's protective arms. With great care, he helped Rayner shift Marcelia onto to his back safely. Rayner's massive form hunched slightly to accommodate her, his movements surprisingly delicate for such a monstrous creature. Miruna watched closely, her gaze softening slightly. "Thank you," she murmured, knowing the weight of Rayner's agreement. "Now let's move."

Together, they began their journey through the smoldering remains of Vincent and Marcelia's childhood home. The once grand manor was now a shadow of its former self, embers glowing in remnants of what was. Vincent felt the weight of the loss pressing down on him, but he kept his focus on the task at hand.

Rayner's every step was heavy, yet controlled, as if the pain and rage simmering inside him were barely contained. The ravens circled above, their croaks echoing like a haunting chorus, whispering reassurances to Rayner that he was not the monster he feared. "We see you, Prince of the Fae. Our Queen will be glad to know you live. Marcelia is safe with you. You are not a monster."

Rayner ignored their words, his mind clouded with the pain of his transformation and the searing memories of his past. But as his obsidian-black horns gleamed in the fading light and the scent of magic filled the air, he moved forward with one goal in mind; keeping Marcelia safe, no matter the cost.

As they moved forward through the charred remains of the Ravenswood estate, Rayner felt a shift in Vincent's demeanor. Perhaps it was the weight of the destruction around them or the growing tension in the air, but it seemed as though Vincent was trying to distract himself. "Miruna," Vincent began quietly, his voice laced with fatigue and sorrow, "what does Tyngan mean? I've heard that word a lot tonight." His tone carried the subtle hope that focusing on something else might momentarily pull him away from the grief.

Rayner, sensing Vincent's unease, finally took a closer look at him. The fae's sharp eyes noticed the striking features that echoed those of his Marcelia. Vincent's deep blue hair, almost persian or navy in hue, framed his face, messy from the night's chaos. His lavender eyes, the same as Marcelia's, help a mixture of exhaustion and determination, though their brightness was dimmed by the loss surrounding them.

As they continued walking, Miruna did her best to explain the term in a way Vincent would understand. "I guess you could say it loosely translates to Fated one," she began, her voice soft but firm, "The fae do not use that term lightly." There was a deeper meaning behind the word, and Miruna knew it, but she let Vincent process it in his own time.

Rayner, still walking behind them, growled in a low, protective tone, affirming Miruna's explanation, though he said nothing more. His eyes shifted to Miruna as she walked beside Vincent. Miruna's golden hair, the color of warm honey, fell gracefully over her shoulders, framing a face that radiated calm and wisdom. Her piercing gaze carried a quiet authority, hinting at something beyond her human guise though her appearance helped blend in among mortals. Her fair skin had a glow that felt both comforting and otherworldly, a telltale sign of the goddess within her.

As they trekked through the ruins, Rayner's monstrous form began to shift again, but this time with a softness that mirrored the gradual trust he was placing in Vincent and Miruna. His fur started to lighten to a deep grey. Light that had once refused to touch him now reflected off his fur, revealing the painful aftermath of his transformation. Blood- his own- matted his pelt, where his skin had torn and reformed, evidence of the brutal nature of his shift. His horns, once shards of obsidian, finally reverted to their natural, branch-like state, and as if a small gesture of hope, a few blossoms timidly emerged from the tips.

Despite his form calming, Rayner still could not speak the mortal tongue, only able to express himself in the fae language. His voice, though still rough, was no longer filled with distrust but a growing sense of worry as he addressed Miruna. "Why did you thank me?" he asked, his deep voice echoing with caution. "You should know it is not safe to thank the fae. You are quite reckless for a goddess."

Miruna didn't flinch at the question. Instead, she offered him a knowing smile. "I know you're different from most fae," she replied in fluent fae, her tone soft yet firm, not missing a beat. "And when you go back to your true form, please don't bring up the goddess thing. It's a secret for a reason, and I'd rather not worry my Tyngan." Her eyes briefly glanced at Vincent, the subtle implication clear.

Rayner's gaze lingered on her, contemplating her words. The fact that Miruna, a vessel for the divine, had acknowledged his difference from the rest of his kin resonated with him. And, though his guard was not completely lowered, something about her calmness reassured him that perhaps, here among the destruction and grief, he had found people who understood.

They continued their way through the smoldering ruins of the Ravenswood estate, the air heavy with the scent of charred wood and memories. Every step crunched underfoot, as if the ground mourned for what had been lost. It was Vincent who saw it first- the skull, half-buried beneath the ash, its hollow eyes staring up at the desolate sky. His breath hitched, and the weight of everything- the devastation, the grief, the unbearable silence- finally settled upon him. His heart clenched, and tears welled up in his lavender eyes, threatening to spill over.

Rayner stopped, watching the silent tremors that wretched Vincent's body. Without thinking, Rayner leaned down and gently nuzzled Vincent, his massive form surprisingly tender. It was a small, instinctual gesture- a fae creature, trying to comfort a grieving brother. The warmth of his fur pressed against Vincent's side, a quiet reassurance that he wasn't alone.

As if in response to Rayner's kindness, a raven descended from the smoke-filled sky and landed lightly on Vincent's shoulders, its black feathers a stark contrast to the ashen ruins. The bird cawed softly, a strange echo of voices Vincent had grown up with, a whisper from the past offering solace. Vincent blinked, trying to steady himself, one hand brushing against Rayner's fur while the other found the soft plumage of the raven.

Miruna, sensing that Vincent was on the verge of breaking, reaching into her enchanted bag. From its depths she pulled out a mandolin, its polished wood gleaming faintly despite the soot-filled air. The instrument was handmade by Cedric himself, a gift for Vincent on his 10th birthday. The memories attached to it were bittersweet, but they were powerful.

She held it out to him, her voice soft but steady. "Why not play and sing your favorite song from your bard school days-the one you played for me the first day we met when we were twelve."

Vincent looked at the mandolin for a moment, the weight of everything swirling around him. He didn't trust his voice, but he reached out and took it, his fingers trancing the familiar strings. The raven gave a soft caw, as if encouraging him.

He glanced at Miruna, her honey-blonde hair catching the faint light of the moon peeking through the ash and smoke around them, her hazel green eyes filled with unwavering support. She nodded gently, and with a deep breath, Vincent strummed the first chord. It was shaky at first, but the melody began to form, the familiar tune soothing the ache in his chest.

Rayner's massive form shifted slightly, his fur slowly lightening from gray to white as he listened, his ears twitching at the sound. He felt the emotion behind it- the longing, the sorrow, the love. His trust in the two humans beside him grew with each passing note, and the blossoms on his horns began to resonate to the music.

Vincent's voice was soft at first, almost a whisper against the ashes, but then it grew stronger, carrying through the ruins.

"Through the embers, shadow fall,

Where the lost once stood tall.

In the silence, whispers fade,

But the memories remain unmade."

The song flowed like a gentle river, washing over the grief and filling the empty spaces with something else- something alive. The raven on Vincent's shoulder cawed softly, as if harmonizing with the melody, and for a moment, the ruins seemed less oppressive, the sorrow less suffocating.

Miruna stood beside him, watching Vincent closely, her hand resting gently on his back. She could see how much he needed this, how the music was giving him a way to release his emotions without being overwhelmed by them. Her heart swelled with pride and love for him, and she was grateful for the brief moment of peace the song offered.

Vincent continued to play, his voice steady now:

"Ash to ash, and bone to bone,

The winds will call us home.

In the blood, we are bound,

To the love that can't be drowned."

Vincent finished the final chord and let the mandolin fall to his side, his breathing labored but his heart lighter. He reached up and wiped his eyes, his tears finally falling, though they felt more like a release than a weight now.

Together, the three pressed forward, Marcelia still sleeping strapped to Rayner's back.

Eventually, they reached the only room left intact amidst the devastation- Julius's room. The protective runes Julius and Tawnie had crafted together glowed faintly on the doorframe, shielding it from the magic brust that had destroyed everything else.

They paused for a moment, standing before the door, knowing that behind it lay the remnants of Julius's life, and possibly the key to saving him.