A mahogany built coach, hauled by two tired looking horses, rolls down a very old paved road, grown over with thousands of years worth of flora. The coachman looks just as exhausted as the horses, sweat soaking his simple brown uniform. The Melura valley heat seems to have gotten to the 3 of them, the young man next to him seemingly unaffected, though that is unsurprising based off the tawny feathers sprouting from his ears. Inside the coach, sits two most important passengers.

The Yates' twins, a pair of orphaned human twins looking to be in their early 20s. They sit side by side, with a large scruffy black and white dog at their feet, a handle harness fastened to it tightly. They share dark violet hair, near black. Sitting across from them is the male twin's doctor, Mordred Malcolm, looking about in his late 40s to early 50s. He goes where the twins go. Icarus, the man, fidgets with his hands nervously, a heavy curtain of dark violet hair covering his face. Iris, the female of the pair, looks out the window, her cloudy liliac eyes darting back and forth taking in the contrast of the passing forest.

"Is the forest very dark, Ica?"

"Yes, very dark. But the road is... it's... bright, very bright."

He's fidgeting with a pair of rectangle framed silver glasses, the lenses missing. He's wearing oval framed glasses, which do have lenses, albeit very cracked. Dr. Malcolm suddenly swats the young man's hand, causing the poor guy to jump.

"Manners, Orion."

"I'm not him... I just like the... I like the shape... It feels good under my fingers..."

Malcolm waves him off, scowling softly.

"Then put them away if he's not here. I didn't give you those to play with like you're a child."

"Yes, sir."

He tucks the glasses into his shirt pocket, pulling his sleeves down over his wrists after they shift up.

"Do you think we're almost there? I mean, we just passed through Corltoft! They're close together, aren't they?"

Malcolm smiles softly at the blind woman, patting her skirt covered knee in a comforting gesture.

"Patience, dear Iris, we'll be in the village soon. The castle is only a 15 minute ride from the village."

"Or... or a 40 minute walk... If you're fast... I heard the heirs are... I think they're fast runners..."

He's so oddly jumpy this afternoon, glancing at the doctor nervously. With a sigh, the older man leans over and places a hand on the younger's thigh, rubbing it slowly.

"Yeln-Fer is very safe, I made sure to research the castle before I agreed to bring you two. Everything will be alright, Icarus."

He looks at the man through his hair, face heating up at the contact of the man's hand. Malcolm keeps a steady rhythm of rubbing up and down in a "soothing" manner. Iris knows what's happening beside her, not daring to look, even though she knows she can't see anything. Her heart aches for her brother, hoping he will see what she sees in Mordred.

By the time they reach the village of the Yeln-Fer kingdom valley, Icarus is moments away from crawling into his doctor's lap, stopped only by the dog, Rotel, growling at being disturbed from her slumber.

"Is this the village? Are we there?"

She points at the dark shapes that suddenly block the light she was seeing before. Beside her, Icarus hums an affirmative answer.

"Yes, my dear, we are almost there."

The doctor sounds out of breath, and he's panting. She hadn't heard more than whatever soft sounds her brother made in reaction to whatever the older man was doing to him. He's usually louder when they kiss, though maybe he decided to spare her ears their unapproved contact. Icarus knows she doesn't like his relationship with Mordred, but they're both consenting adults, so, in one of his more coherent moments, he told her to mind her own fucking business. Though, he does make an effort to keep his hands to himself when Iris is around the two men.

The village passes by quickly, people waving kindly to them as they pass. Iris, despite being unsure they are actually waving, waves back, hoping silently that she's not waving at wind blown trees again. The sounds beside her start up again and she "accidentally" taps Rotel with her shoe. The huffy hound growls lowly again, Icarus and Mordred breaking apart with a wet sound.

"I have half a mind to throw that mutt out the window..."

The good doctor has never been one to keep his thoughts to himself, so Iris is not caught off guard by the remark.

"Do that and I'll throw you out after her."

Despite her difference, Iris prefers to call herself strong and very capable of throwing a grown middle aged man out of a coach.

"Easy, dear. I'm only jesting."

She huffs pointedly, the rest of the ride falling silent, void of even wet kissing sounds.

The Saurin castle itself is a marvel of ancient architecture and stone work. It's huge, large sprawling wings jutting out from the main section, all surrounded by a thick stone wall, similar to the one that surrounds Yeln-Fer as a whole. It's beautiful, from what Icarus describes. She appreciates her twin brother and his excited play by play of everything. Many find the true Icarus annoying and too loud, but she loves the sound of his voice, though she doesn't hear it often. The others talk for him too much to let him speak for himself. The heavy iron gates open before they even reach it, several soldiers scrambling on the other side to get in line alongside the road. As they pull in, a short but strong looking armored human woman stands at the end of the line, a tall human man standing next to her.

"I trust your journey was safe?"

The woman, most likely Commander Tafel, speaks up as the trio piles out of the coach, Rotel excitedly leading Iris, that sleepy anger gone.

"Very safe, Tibalt is a wonderful driver. An even better teacher to his son."

Dr. Malcolm answers before anyone else can, and the commander's gaze snaps to him, her expression souring and her green eyes darkening.

"How wonderful... Who the hell are you?"

"Pardon?" He looks horribly offended, a hand over his chest in shock.

"You're far too old to be one of the sa-the guests the queen requested."

His shock drops softly and he nods.

"Right, I did send a response back. Must not have arrived yet. I am doctor Mordred Malcolm, Icarus Yates' psychologist."

He gestures to Icarus, who is ghosting behind the older man, shifting on his uneven heels. The heel of his left shoe is visibly taller than his right shoe, but he's not off balance from it. Attention is drawn away from his shoes as Tafel grunts out a response.

"Was your name on the invite?"

"Well no, but-"

"Then you're leaving with Tibalt and his son."

Malcolm sputters a little, trying to compose himself before he attempts to reply. Just as he opens his mouth, Icarus interjects.

"Please don't.... Do not make him leave. He helps us... Malcolm helps me. I like having him... Around, we like having him around."

All eyes fall on Icarus, who is very clearly not all there. Iris steps in front of him, to block line of sight between him and Tafel.

"Forgive my brother. He has some... difficulties. Dr. Malcolm is his 24 hour psych caretaker. He needs one, trust me."

Tafel huffs, waving them off.

"Whatever. You need to get inside anyway. The eldest are waiting to greet you both."

With a flick of her long ginger braid, Commander Tafel turns towards the castle entrance and marches forward. She gestures to the dark haired man beside her.

"This is Lieutenant Nicholas Iso. If there is a problem with safety concerns, talk to him. He is at the castle most often, I am busy with training the troops."

Iris and Malcolm nod in unison, while Icarus is staring at the sprawling gardens around them. The entire castle exterior is covered in flowering vines and ivy, large hedges line the courtyard, vines winding those as well. It's gorgeous. Malcolm guides Icarus with a hand on his shoulder, rubbing circles into his shirt.

The castle interior is nothing short of breathtaking; spiraling pillars wrapped in ivy and a smattering of pink and white flowers, a gorgeously ornate stained glass chandelier adorned in sparkling crystals and precious gems. Beneath their feet, a hand embroidered rug stretched out in the shape of a sun burst, all colors of a sunset woven into the design. Before them, a double staircase frames a grand hallway decorated in more vines and crystals. At the top most step of the left staircase stands a pair of coffee colored elven twins, a man and a woman. They're beautiful, in every sense of the word. The man guides his other half down the stairs, expensive leather boots tapping against the marbled tiles, falling just within the gold grout lines. His hair is cut short at the sides, a short and well shaped stony gray fro circled by a gold circlet with a bright cyan gem in the center. Thick, stormy gray locks bounce against the woman's shoulders with each step she takes. Woven into her hair is a sting of pearls connected by a large diamond shaped yellow stone. Royal elegance radiates off of them both in waves and rustles of thick expensive fabrics. She holds her brother's hand in her own and gracefully lifts her skirt with her other, the many layers of her skirt flow around her in waves of cream and sky colored excellence. In contrast, he wears a steel gray jacket, covered in hand embroidered spirals, and simple pale blue flared trousers with strips of gold wrapped around his legs.

In contrast to their heavy and important looking clothing, their faces are soft and hold a kindness that is surely set deep in their souls. Nearly identical slim eyes, crystal blue and electric yellow, fall upon the group waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Their skin, though deeply brown in color, is covered in thousands of freckles and beauty marks. The godblood coursing through their veins is clear, the pair practically glowing with the ethereal energy.

Commander Tafel and Lieutenant Iso kneel as the twins reach the last step, the brother's gaze flicking to Tafel for a split moment. The Yates and Dr. Malcolm remain standing, the doctor opting it easier to bow his head in respect instead of trying to wrestle Icarus to his knees. Iris follows suit with a similar gesture, bowing down further with her arms at her side.

"Please, rise. All this drama doesn't suit us."

The brother's voice is strong, a deep stony rumble to it.

"Oh hush! You know you enjoy it." The sister slaps his arm playfully, her voice not quite as deep as his. They are both clearly well taught, speaking with the tone of someone who thinks too highly of themself.

"I am Eden Saurin" She addresses them finally, bowing her head gracefully. "And this is my twin, Jasper Saurin." Jasper, with none of the confident grace his twin has, holds up a hand in an awkward wave. Eden chuckles to herself, patting him on the back in reassurance before leaving his side to approach Iris.

"You must be the lovely Iris."

The younger woman gasps a little when gloved hands find hers, nodding softly.

"I-I wasn't aware you knew our names."

Eden chuckles at that, rubbing her hands soothingly.

"We have been expecting you very eagerly. Your brother as well."

Jasper moves to take a closer look at Icarus, leaning back in caution as the pale man jolts and stutters oddly.

"Forgive him. It's harder when he's stressed." Iris is quick to defend her brother, without even seeing how he's acting.

"No no, it's alright. We did our research, there is no offense." He carefully offers a hand to Icarus to shake. "Hello Icarus, it's good to finally meet you."

After a moment of staring at the other man's hand, Icarus takes it, shaking it lazily. Malcolm observes this with a thinly veiled scowl, an expression that falls the moment the eldest prince turns to trap him in a stern, vaguely angry, gaze.

"You must be the shrink we were warned about."

"So you did receive my reply."

Jasper's expression sours at the older man's accent, clearly developing a dislike for him already. He nods, looking the man up and down. He never offers his hand. Instead, he gestures for them to follow him down the corridor to the right. Eden hurries to fall in step at his side, the pair leading them through the castle. Jasper glances back after the sound of Commander Tafel marching outside to return to the courtyard. There's a subtle pout to the way his bottom lip quivers.

The awe quickly fades after nearly 20 minutes of near identical ornate hallways and stained glass windows. Outside, anyone can see that the Saurin castle is massive, but the reality of just how many long hallways make up the interior is near impossible to imagine without ever being inside. Icarus desperately tries to take in as much as possible with a headache this strong. The others won't shut up, chattering like an unruly school room like they're not driving him crazy. Iris had linked their arms together a few minutes into the journey, hoping the contact would ground him to reality. In a way, it worked, but there was just too much noise for it to do any real help.

~~🌸~~🌸~~🌸~~🌸~~🌸~~

Smoke swirls through the vast hallways of the castle, that recognizable skunk smell wafting like a cloud of evil, sweeping into the carpets. The source of the smoke? A tall man leaned against a rickety old crutch made of unsanded sticks, his skin a pale earthy brown, decorated with millions of freckles and ornate swirling vine tattoos that twist and wind around his limbs like real vines. His thick heavy mass of long dark brown hair swings like a heavy braided rope behind him as he tilts his head up to take another drag from the joint pinched between his thumb and forefinger. He's blocking a set of heavy oak door, leaning against the jam leisurely, his oversized tan coat slipping down his arms. The vines wrapped around pillars and running through cracks in the walls begin to shake around him.

"They're almost here already? Gods damn it..."

He tries to quickly snuff out the burning paper, praying to whatever god is listening that the smell is not that strong further down the hallway.

As the group reaches the planning room, the smell of earthy skunk hits them rather quickly. Jasper curses under his breath, his pace increasing as he rounds the corner. The sight that lays before them is no surprise to the heirs, who both groan in annoyance at the sight of the tall skinny man with visibly red eyes. The man gives them a look of indifference, not an ounce of remorse in those deep green eyes.