Tales of An Escapade

Fourth Chapter

Ane was washing her vest in the river's water. A bit of blood washed away and left a soft, red trail in the running water. Her white strands of hair also flowed away. With her short strands of hair, she finally felt free. Her shoulders and nape of her neck now fully enjoyed the breeze.
   "Do you think she meant something with it?" she heard Elliot ask.
   "I don't know," replied Bethil, "but I don't think we should mind too much."
   "Bethil is right," said Jarco. "If she really is a true ally, then we should not worry. She will come around."
   "What happened back there?" asked Ane, mixing herself in the conversation.
   "The dead didn't attack Daphne," replied Elliot.
   With a little frown, Ane turned to them. "Why not?"
   "Doesn't matter," mumbled Bethil. "I still ought to bring you to Iccarslot."
   "About that..." muttered Jarco. "I am sorry for not willing to take you to the Southern Bay."
   "It is fine," forgave Ane. "You did try to catch up with us, which ended a little differently than we had expected." She snickered slightly, and Jarco looked at the ground with a little laugh on his face.
   "Iccarslot is no more than one mile away. Let us go for it, shall we?" he proposed. The others enthusiastically agreed to finally reaching their goal. It definitely had been a tad harder than they had initially expected, but nobody could've expected this.
   A tiny mile later, they stood in front of the grand ports. The entire Southern Bay was secretively 'locked' behind giant, glass walls. How could it not just be broken? The only possible answer that the glass was forged out of sand that had been spelled by amethyst's blood, but since that was only fated for Druids it was highly unlikely.
   Within the walls of the Southern Bay, beautiful paths lay twirling between tiny, picturesque villages that eventually lead to a grand stronghold between thick, marble walls. Behind the stronghold lay mother nature's beauty, from tiny ponds with koi fish to grand forests where dwarfs would commit to lumber and crafting. It was a truly majestic world, and nobody looked the same. Unlike the northern people, where everybody walked around with a naturally human aura, everyone here was followed by an imaginary mist of sprinkling magic that they spread wherever they went.
  The glass walls could only be passed by non-humans. The walls were built after the Grand Battles, where the human race took the torch and raced off with it, leaving other races to simply die. Horned were inevitably blamed for this, as they were the most powerful and thus could easily avoid the attack of the devils, meanwhile mankind was hiding behind the walls of safety and serenity. That eventually led to man's downfall, caused by the horned. It was a relatively simple fact to believe if you take away the fact that mankind was the biggest race of the entire world and the horned ones clearly lack population.
   "It is wonderful," mumbled Ane as soon as she had entered the Southern Bay. The heavy sense of enthrallment that rang through her spine made her excited and eager to learn about the southern history. It was different here. The group was kindly greeted by tiny dwarf's children, who were even tinier than the dwarves. Maybe eighty centimetres? That was an approximate metre smaller than Elliot, Bethil and Jarco. Blacksmiths were hosted by trolls, who were laughing and bellowing with each other's repetitive jokes. Female orcs would have a chat or a read a book outside, since the weather was grand anyhow. Elves would drag their long, silky dresses over the floor and have hairstyles that were both sophisticated and messy, just to show off their beautifully pointed ears.
   "This is a lot nicer than the Northern Bay," thought Ane aloud. "Why did your parents leave, Bethil?"
   Bethil shrugged. Ane shook her head in confusion. If she were the southern princess, she'd not leave for any money in the world. It was absolutely beautiful here. The warmth here almost made it unbelievable that rain occasionally fell down here as well.
   "Good day!"
   The four comrades turned to the voice on their left and were stunned by the view of a familiar face. He was small, had an experienced glare on his face, a big nose and big eyes. His beard merged with the long, black hair on his head. He wore a golden headband over his forehead to sign his identity.
   "Rok," mumbled Bethil dumbly.
   "Nice to meet you, youngsters," he said. He had to stretch his neck to be able to fully face the tall people in front of him. "You've come to see Korlos?"
   "If possible," nodded Bethil.
   "I'm almost done with my forging!" announced Rok. "I'll be right with you. Maybe you could meet my family in the meanwhile."
   "Gladly," smiled princess Ane. They followed Dwarf Rok to his tiny, cutesy house and decided to remain outside for their heads would touch nearly the ceiling if they'd enter. Rok's wife, Bel, came outside and she had brought a tray with ceramic cups. Her children, a pair of twins, who wore nearly identical denim suits and a colourful shirt underneath, tagged along. They shyly tugged Bel's skirt.
   "Good day, my children," greeted Bel kindly, placing the tray on the small table in front of her.
   "Nice to see you, Bel," said Jarco.
   "Is that the princess of the northern side?" whispered the girl, Ley, barely looking up to Ane.
   "She is, Ley! So be kind to her!"
   Ley, the cute, tiny girl, smiled shyly and sat down on the bench where Ane and the others also sat down. The bench seemed huge for Ley, but it was nice. The ceramic cups of tea were very hot, so Elliot nearly dropped it as he took it from the tray. He was cold-blooded, as if icicles grew in his flesh.
   "Be careful, Elliot!" laughed Bel. Rok also took a cup of tea. He asked how Bel had prepared them rather quickly, and Bel just laughed as an answer. Probably one of the tricks of Dwarves. The only immortal race that could apply magic to anything were elves, after all.
   "So, what has brought you here?" asked Rok, who also sat down on another bench in their front yard. Their house was part of a tiny village close to the local smiths and close to the entrance of Iccarslot. Rok built it here to be able to easily reach both his favourite destinations.
   "Ghordo has," answered Ane. "Do you possibly know where we can find Korlos?"
   "The orc's sent ye'?" mumbled Rok with a suspicious glare. "Bel, please go inside with the children." Bel nodded, gathered her children and headed inside.
   "Is this a private matter?" questioned Ane before taking a sip of the extremely spiced up tea. She supposed that it was just a southern thing to overload your tea with spices instead of creating harmonious flavours with herbs.
   "It is, my dear," nodded Rok. "What's happened with the oracle is a strange thing. The vessel has spoken to the knights, which is an extraordinary thing to do. The vessel never speaks to non-peculiar creatures. It must mean that this event is quite a big one. It'll possibly destroy earth if the evil gets unleashed. We've to be quick with this one. Not everyone's fit for the quest. The vessel's chosen four warriors, and they're you. If you find Korlos, he'll definitely be able to direct you."
   "The vessel?" Elliot frowned. Was the oracle a vessel? That'd be highly unlikely, wouldn't it? He had always imagined the finest of things, the most epic beings or grand spirits. Not a mere vessel. If it'd be a cheap pot plant that you'd buy in floral shops, then all the very legendary stories Elliot had heard about the oracle would all go into smithereens if you'd put the image of a random plant in the place of the oracle.
   "You may be disappointed that the oracle is but a vessel, but it's an animal's thing. Camouflage. Safety. Unexpectedness, of course. Who'd accuse a random vessel of being an oracle?" explained Rok while leaning to the youngsters. There wasn't anybody around who'd eavesdrop, but he still wanted to keep this a bit private.
   "So, where can we find Korlos?"
   Rok turned back to princess Anevay. "Follow me." Before they went, Rok quickly shouted that he'd be back soon. He was helped up Ordo by Anevay and the black stallion accepted this new galloper on his back. The saddle was a bit too large for Rok, but the others just decided to walk so that the horses wouldn't have to run, thus not resulting into nasty accidents with Rok.
   Bethil and Rok talked about politics and religion, two topics to avoid when meeting people, but they managed to string a nice and casual conversation to it. They discussed the current royal staff of the Southern Bay and also talked about the gods that they both worshipped. With open minds, they managed to both enjoy it. Even Elliot and Anevay took some enjoyment out of it.
   Once in front of the giant walls, the guards let them in immediately. It was because they recognised Rok, and mind you, he was a very liked man by almost everyone in the kingdom. Iccarslot was absolutely beautiful. Overwhelmed by the golden aura that seemed to vaguely linger over the city as a dome, Ane had to catch her own breath.
   Marble paths led through tiny patches of grass filled with benches, flowers or ponds with big, long and colourful fish. Merchants sold their fresh, quality-rich or gorgeous items on the wide open plaza between all the paths and grass patches. Intertwining paths of marble led to a staircase. The building that lay behind the staircase was the main place of the entire stronghold. Vertically, gloriously built walls created a castle. A masterpiece of hundreds of architects, masons and construction workers altogether who had worked months on this giant sculpture. Balconies spun around the highest towers, tiny baskets of flowers hanging over the edge. Maidens and youths were seen through the grand, clear windows, chattering happily and working. Long, pointy ears were hidden underneath intricate hairstyles. Dwarves worked in the garden and were making jokes about how plants were taller than themselves. Orcs, wearing clean and white uniforms were teaching new soldiers the ways of the sword outside the castle. Inside the castle, on one of the first floors, giant windows allowed one to see inside a classroom filled with nearly unbelievably interested students all of sorts and a troll in front of the classroom. Her long, wavy hear framed her naturally beautiful face. She was youthful, just like almost everybody here, and she had a very fair skin with a olive green glow. However, the immortals of the south were known to look very young, despite their possible deceased-like age. Take Ghordo for example. He was hundred and five years old, but still had the body of a young, strong man and the face of a strong and mighty character. He did look somewhat beastlier than most orcs, but blame his warfare for that.
   "Welcome to Iccarslot!" said Rok, being helped off the horse. "This is the southern royal city! How's it?"
   "It is beautiful," uttered princess Anevay. Kinslot, with its many bronze pipes, bronze stones and rather dark colours and a surprising amount of metalwork, was but a mere city in comparison to this gem of artwork.
   "It sure is," nodded Rok proudly. "I worked on its latest restorations with my friends."
   "You did a fine job, Rok," complimented Elliot kindly. "So where is Korlos?"
   "He should be in one of the libraries. Follow me, children," he exclaimed before confidently walking inside. He was kindly greeted by some beautiful creatures, who lay their eyes on the four comrades.
They headed upstairs, their boots ticking against the fair, marble surface of the spiral staircase that twirled through the many towers. Once they had reached perhaps the seventh storey, Rok finally walked over the circular landing into one of the wings. On the outside, this wing seemed but a window bay, but as you stepped inside it almost seemed as if the wind brought you to another realm where that tiny window bay was an entire library.
   "Did we just transport?" whispered Elliot, who had clearly felt the fuzzy feeling in his stomach.
   "You did, my dear child," nodded Rok. "Thank the elves for this fine sample of magic."
The library was spacious, with rose golden colours overwhelming the place and bathing it in a soft, golden glow. Many desks had been placed in the middle of the room and books were everywhere. However, they weren't just standing on shelves, they were all floating on nothing but air. The books had been placed alphabetically, so an illiterate person would be completely lost. Yet then again, which illiterate person would even enter a library?
   In the middle of the library sat an old man with a long, pointy nose and equally pointy ears. He wore one eyepatch with golden embroidery over his right eye, just like Bethil. His one exposed eye was the colour of the sky, but literally though. His eye seemed to adjust perfectly to the colour of the outside. Long ago, a myth arose that trolls always knew the nature's grief or quiet, and their eyes would also give off different feelings. Supposedly, Korlos was the last one with those eyes.
   "Korlos," exclaimed Rok after clearing his throat. The troll looked up. He wasn't so tall, nor was he that exceptionally good-looking. You couldn't excuse him either, he had never been outside that much despite his connections with nature.
   "They've arrived," mumbled the troll wisely. He got off his oak chair and approached the youngsters, dragging his cloak behind him. It hauled behind him over the tiles. He inspected the four with his one eye, shifting his focus rapidly.
   "Everything alright?" asked Rok.
   "No," muttered the troll, "they're not the correct four."
   Ane's heart dropped. She hadn't really thought about the four heroes after the incident with Daphne. She hadn't bothered to collect the four heroes, but she had secretly hoped that it would have been Jarco despite her own hesitations.
   "How can we find the right hero?" asked Ane.
   "That doesn't matter," thought Korlos aloud. "You must go to the Western Bay and find your fourth hero there."
   "How do we get to the Western Bay? It's a dangerous field, isn't it?" asked Bethil.
   "That's up to you. There are several ways of reaching the west. You can always count on the travellers in the inn, or you can let your navigational instincts do the work. Buy maps, get compasses, be a nomad, I couldn't care less. Just go."
   "Ghordo said that you could give us more information," said Ane hurriedly, before Korlos would shake them off. "More information about all of this. Shall you tell us?"
   "Of course, princess Anevay. Take a seat. Rok, leave," ordered Korlos almost snapping. The youngsters took a seat around the table where the troll Korlos had laid out his books, papers. A slate pencil neatly placed straight up in its ink well was the only thing which seemed to have remained the way its originally been.
   "What do you want to know?" quoth the troll, his eyes focussing dearly on the youngsters now.
   "Why specific children were chosen," replied Ane immediately.
   "The heroic blood that you've deemed and runs through your veins like red fluids is irresistible to the oracle. It has specifically chosen four heroes. One for the brains, one for the brawn, one for the heart and one for the fortune."
   "And who is who?" asked Elliot.
   "I have the brains, the heart and the fortune right here."
   "What are our purposes?"
   "The brain is for obvious matters. The heart is to keep the moral high. The fortune is to guide the group and successfully finish the quest. The brawn is to physically protect you."
   "Jarco could've been our brawn," thought Bethil aloud.
   "Yet he is not."
   "Does he not meet the requirements?" sighed Elliot cynically, leaning back in his chair nonchalantly.
   "He does not," snapped Korlos firmly. Elliot immediately straightened his back and awkwardly glared at his friends.
   "And what do they need to do?" asked Jarco cautiously, afraid of a yapping response from Korlos.
   "Destroy the evil, but forever now. It shall unleash itself soon and we must stop before it's impossible," said Korlos slowly. "It's a dangerous process, but you'll definitely have to push through. Can you do that? Are you willing to save the world?"
   "Of course," answered the princess. She then stood up. "I do not wish to know any more. I have heard enough. We should find our brawn."
   Korlos nodded and turned back to his books as if a simple 'bye' wasn't necessary. The four comrades left the library hall and found themselves on the landing again. Rok was still waiting outside.
   "How was it? Did ye' find out more?"
   "Sufficient," Anevay nodded. "Where can we rest for the night?"
   "I'll take you to the inn in Iccarslot. Great service, even greater food. It's not that cheap, but I'm guessing you folks have brought enough coins," said Rok with a cheeky smile.
   "Actually..." began Elliot, feeling his pockets. He hadn't brought many items at all. The only stuff that he had really brought was a satchel with necessary foodstuff and water and some extra clothes. Idem for Anevay, and Bethil had barely brought enough gold coins to buy a simple pony.
   "It's fine," uttered Rok, "I'll pay for you." He started descending all the stairs. "Did you find any good books? Some romantic novels? Some epic adventure stories? Maybe some fine poetry?"
   "I'm done with poetry," snorted Bethil. "Last time I utilised a poem in any way, we got in the hands of some horned rogue named Daphne."
   Rok immediately stopped. He clutched the railings, which were on his eye height. Had Bethil just used Daphne's name? Completely clueless, the four friends shared a confused glare.
   "Are you alright, Rok?" asked Jarco, already reaching out to come to aid.
   "Daphnelle?" echoed Rok.
   "She has horns like a buck and eyes like the ocean," replied Jarco.
   "Is she around?"
   Ane nodded. She squinted slightly, not sure whether to laugh or cry.
   "We must warn the guards..." thought Rok aloud. He started summing up a list of seemingly important figures to warn about Daphne's – or Daphnelle's, as Rok called her – presence.
   "Why? She's but a rogue, right?" frowned Bethil.
   "She's more than that!" the dwarf shouted. Some hidden rage and grief seemed to bust out of Rok's shell. "A thief, a murderer, a vile monster!"
   "Why?" asked Elliot.
   Rok hurriedly descended and the others followed them. As soon as they had exited the palace, Rok exclaimed loudly and broadly that Daphne was around the city. Everybody started moving, getting their children inside or wrapping up their deals. In a split second, everyone was in a hurry.
   "You'll be staying at mine. It may a bit tiny, but you'll thank me later," decided Rok. After they had taken the horses from the royal stables – where they had obviously left them –, they hurried back to Rok's house. A small half hour later, they all sat in the living room.
   "The last time that Daphne came around with her group, she molested, pillaged and assassinated the entire city and some neighbouring cities. She was reckless. Her quartz's magic is absolutely powerful, causing her to be inevitably dangerous. The joy she had taken out of her trip forever signed her darkness. She keeps on claiming that she doesn't know what she is, but it's clear to us she is a doomed who escaped her clan. You must take care and not fall into her hands. She won't care about your quest at all. The world could crash and burn, as long as she enjoys the destruction," explained Rok.
   "Did we bring her here?" whimpered Ane apologetically.
   "Perhaps," replied Rok, "but that is not something to worry about. We shall do everything to keep her away from you guys. Just go and rest. Bel shall show you around the guest rooms. I hope the beds will be long enough."
   Thoughtfully, Rok stood up and he headed upstairs. The others followed him like puppies and just awaited what'd happen.
   After a cosy dinner time and delicious, meaty meal, the four comrades had decided to get some rest. They'd enjoy the luxury of sleeping in proper beds, even though they were a bit smaller than usual. They just lay like foetuses and tried to sleep this way.
   Anevay slept in the same guest room as her dearest friend Elliot. She stared at the roof and through the skylight. The stars were scintillating grandly on the peaceful surface of the night sky. Elliot's soft, faint snoring was very calming for some reason. Ane rethought all the events that had happened the past days. Too much happened, hadn't it? She wondered what would've happened if Elliot and she didn't go into town that day. She wondered if it had really mattered. Lost in her own questions, confusion and disbelief about the recent happenings, she eventually fell asleep. Restless, though, she covered the night.
   "Good morning, princess Anevay," greeted Rok. The sun was out and Ane was still a bit unused to the first sentence that she had heard having a heavy southern accent. The others were already sat around the table, smearing their slices of herbal bread with a type of jam that had a bright, jumpy colour and seemed to have a funny texture.
   "Good morning," responded Ane and she joined the table. Next to Jarco, there was still a spot. The table was filled with condiments, bread and tea. Loads of tea. And surprisingly, coffee. Coffee had always been a typically southern delicacy and not many people actually could afford coffee. Its beans were rarely ever found and even if they were found, they were further produced into coffee in very seldom situations. Because of this reason, Ane took the chance to enjoy a cup of coffee for the first time in years.
   "Wise choice, my dear," smiled Bel, cutting Rob's bread into small slices. "Not many people enjoy the bitterness that coffee brings ye', but it's a great way to start the day!"
  Ane smiled kindly as she took a sip. She enjoyed the taste of it more than she had expected to. The morning went by relatively quick. Bel, Rob and Bethil made some clothes for the comrades on their way, Ley, Elliot and Jarco helped to clean up and Ane and Rok went for a walk. They went close to the glass walls of the Southern Bay, where rivers ran swiftly, around the huge kingdom.
   "You must take care of what you do with your magic, Ane," began Rok unexpectedly.
   "What do you mean? I am controlling my sapphires properly," frowned the princess.
   "I don't think that Jarco has ever taught you about quartz, has he?" Rok asked, raising one of his thick, furry eyebrows.
   "Quartz? As in the gemstones? Or as in –"
   "Yes, as in the magical blood of the quartz."
Ane stayed quiet for a solid minute. Rok didn't open his mouth either and let Ane's thoughts go on the loose. He could almost hear the princess think and he was satisfied with that; Ane was a wise girl for her early age. Usually, teens of her age were busy with their girl- or boyfriends and worried about their studies and whatnot.
   "Elaborate," Ane demanded. If it weren't for the running of the streams next to them and the tiny birds chirping happily, then Rok would probably have been able to hear Ane's building frustration in her voice.
  "Emerald's magic is for everyone. You know that. It's a simple form of magic and can be hosted by any single magical possessor, such as the enchanters and enchantresses – or the sorcerers and socereresses, as you prefer to call them for some reason –, necromancers like you, Elves, the horned ones, Mermaids, Fairies and hybrids."
   "The foreigners are real?" scowled Ane in a growing disbelief. Layers of unbelievable facts stacked and it slowly became a big rock to smash in your head for Ane; something that one just couldn't do.
  "Of course they are, dear princess," nodded Rok, "but on with the magic. We have sapphire's magic, which is most likely your preference."
   "Whose preference is it not?"
   Rok hummed agreeing, his hands folded behind his back and his chest forward like a proud lad.
   "It's strong. It can be very strong. However, it's dangerous and risky for those who are considered unexperienced with magic. Hand a mere Dwarf like I am the quartz, and I'd most likely destroy myself. Dwarves cannot master this, since they don't own any traces of quartz in their veins," Rok explained. "Druids have some exclusive gems as well, of course. Amethysts, for example, but that is out of the question, but there are also the rubies, for all the horned creatures. Both dangerous and completely unknown to us. It is said that they run cold through their veins, unlike our magic which heats us up."
   "Jarco told me all of that, though," Ane said.
   "Hear me out," replied Rok.
   Ane gave him the word and the Dwarf began talking. "There are thus the quartz. They are unheard of, because in more than most cases, people simply can't control it in whichever way. The strength of those gems, my dear princess, is incomprehensible. Every single magical possessor owns them, very few can control it. You, however, are definitely capable of mastering the quartz."
   "How?"
   Rok shrugged indifferently. "You must find out. Train, practice, it shall come."
   Ane shook her head in refusal and sighed deeply. "I cannot awaken gems I am not aware of."
   "Oh, but you can," grinned Rok slyly. "Just do your best, princess Anevay."
   "Rok..."
   "They are pure gems, though. That means that it drains as much strength as you can possible offer. Not physical, but mental. That means that a weak, soft-hearted person will only be able to unleash very little of that gem."
   "I get it," replied Ane briefly. Her head would've spun out of control if it weren't for the amount of crazy phrases she had heard lately. Another fact to add to her own personal, mental notebook that she had titled 'Tales of An Escapade'.
  When Ane and Rok returned to Rok's house, they weren't welcomed by the kind faces of his family or the cheeky smiles of Ane's comrades. Ghordo, who was tall as ever and looked mighty, especially in such a surprisingly smashing sunlight, had bad news.
  "Korlos has become a victim," he said. His voice sounded more like a constant groaning which simply couldn't be stopped.
  "A victim of what?"
  "Death."
  Rushed on their horses, onto the stronghold and into the palace, worry and contemplation formed in each one of their heads. Some contemplation and worry, of course, differed from the others'. The palace was filled with worried bystanders and witnesses. Teary eyes and frightened faces were seen all around the library, the troll's most beloved place, eminently.
  "Korlos!" exclaimed Rok more than loudly as he entered the library huffing and panting, still exhausted from climbing the stairs so rapidly. A pool of blood lay all over his papers and books, and a visible gash could be soon on his throat. His long, thick nails had damaged the paper underneath his bloody hands. His long hair was messy and was bathing in the blood of the troll and the chair was barely even supporting his body anymore due to its odd, shifted position. Definitely signs of a struggle, so a fight had been going on here.
  "Who did this?" yelled Ghordo. His groan thrilled the entire castle, maybe scaring the citizens even more.
  "Who do you think?"
  You'd expect a sly, satisfied smirk. A voice that belonged to somebody who clearly enjoyed the grief and sorrow that they had caused. A voice of someone who was effortlessly vile and took the most amusement out of littlest harm they could bring to someone. Sharp and brutal, perhaps, but that wasn't the voice at all. It was angry, frustrated and nearly disappointed.
  The sound of wings filled the landing, and more than a few citizens took steps back. The leathery, huge wings decorated the tall, familiar body. The wrist seemed to have been made out of bone, the coverts were but some scraps of hide and the long, wide and thick primaries, secondaries and tertials of the wing existed out of some skin-like substance, but darker and scarier. The colour of the dark bone matched Daphne's horns.
  "Long time no see," said the Druid, aimed towards Rok and Ghordo.
  The two muttered her name angrily. Knights were stopped mid-action to attack the Druid by some higher Knights; they knew better than to attack such a vicious creature.
  "Why Korlos?"
  "I had to start with someone of you," spat Daphne. "Is it not clear?"
  "You will pay for this," exclaimed Rok.
  "Sure, little one," the Druid snarled. "I wouldn't think any different of you." Without any further words, she spread her grand wings again with a wingspan of maybe four metres in total, and seamlessly without hesitations she burst through the wall of the castle, breaking the stones apart and fleeing through the hole she had just created. Screams and yelps filled the place. A single soul yelled that it was impossible to break the castle's walls, but the tower was slowly tilting due to its unbalanced base. A falcon-like shriek filled the skies from faraway and the four comrades glare through the hole in awe.

"Get out, everybody!" bellowed the knights. "You have to leave the castle before it collapses!"

  And so everyone did. Ane, whose mind seemed to be elsewhere, followed the pack like a lost wolf. She tried to string everything together into a logical, structured paragraph, but all that seemed to really embed were empty keywords. She prayed to the gods. Why her? And why now?

[Pic: Daphnelle]