1510 DR
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It was rare the initiates of the Moonflame were allowed to leave the temple grounds.

It was even rarer that Mel was allowed to go with them. 

But she hadn’t caused Maiden Sybella too much trouble this week, so found herself amidst the company of the Maiden, as well as her other initiates. Sybella led the four initiates out of the back of their giving house, the Hand of Selûne, and into the alleys within the Burnt Gallows, heading back towards Ompherl’s Span so they could return to the temple.

Gloraine, the most senior initiate, walked ahead of Mel and the others with Maiden Sybella, chattering incessantly. Mel could barely tolerate listening to Gloraine on a good day, and less when they spent all day working.

“For someone so worried about being robbed, you sure make a lot of noise,” Mel grumbled, loud enough for Gloraine to hear.

“Novice Melrose!” Maiden Sybella scolded shrilly, narrowed eyes searing.

She knew the song and dance. Mel bowed her head, clasped her hands, and said vacantly, “My apologies to you, Maiden Sybella, and to you, Novice Gloraine.”

Gloraine tsked and turned her nose up into the air, ignoring the dishonest apology.

Behind her, the novice Rence, sighed.

“Sure would love to be the High Moonmistress’ favorite,” he hissed. “I could get away with anything.”

Mel stiffened and ignored him. Rence harbored a jealousy that was unfounded; she had just as many strikes across the knuckles from the High Moonmistress, if not more so. And it wasn’t her fault said Moonmistress summoned her near weekly for tea; she knew the woman only kept such a close eye on her at the behest of her parents.

Gloraine’s voice wormed its way back into her thoughts. 

“Perhaps we could open a store house in Mortonbrace, and funnel any donations from there–”

Rence scoffed. “We might as well ask one of the Hawkynfleurs for a spare coin.”

Gloraine tossed a haughty glare to him over her shoulder.

“I don’t see the harm in trying, at the least,” said Avelina, the other initiate. Adjusting her glasses, she clarified, “Setting up a storehouse, I mean.”

“We will discuss the feasibility with the High Moonmistress,” Sybella said diplomatically.

Rolling her eyes, Mel knew this meant if Gloraine truly wanted a store house, she’d have to ask the Moonmistress directly. Sybella was known throughout the temple as being unable to make decisions and passing them off to Moonmistress Amanda at any opportunity.

Their party turned the corner in the alley, and Mel briefly observed Stonekeep Concourse at the mouth, before it was blocked by several, dark-clad figures.

Gloraine shrieked, clinging to Maiden Sybella.

“You, who are blinded by Selûne’s light,” said one of the figures at the front.

“We’ve come to bathe you in Lady Shar’s darkness!” shouted another behind them.

Chaos ensued. Mel tackled Avelina to the ground just as a bolt of energy lanced towards them. She heard Rence grunt to her right, but couldn’t see him amidst the three Sharrans that amassed upon him. The spellcaster seized a fistful of Mel’s hair, trying to pull her away from Avelina. 

“Sybella, help!!” Mel shouted as she clawed at the hand in her hair.

The Maiden only stood there, shielding herself as a Sharran bore down upon her.

Another Sharran grabbed for Avelina but Mel kicked out, knocking their reach away. One broke from assaulting Rence and seized her arm.

“Lady of Silver Light, hear me,” she heard Gloraine muttering between the scuffle. “When shadows gather and the night grows cold–” The senior initiate fell to her knees, bowing her head and squeezing her eyes shut. 

They reached for Avelina again, who curled up onto a ball.

Growling, Mel gathered her power in her throat. With a booming voice, she cast, “Spelndoriverbum!”

A pulse of power emanated from her, loosening the attackers’ hold upon her.

“There you are!!” cried a new voice.

From the flat roof above, a woman in gleaming plate armor jumped down into the fray in front of Mel, a dove-gray cape swirling about her shoulders.

The armored woman smirked, reaching for something at her side – a sword, Mel hoped. 

To her surprise, the woman instead pulled out a gem, a white starburst at its center. 

“Aspicinitidus!” she shouted.

The gem flashed; Mel winced, looking away. In an instant, the attackers’ hands dropped to their sides. They started slowly shuffling towards the armored woman, pushing past Mel, their eyes transfixed upon the gem.

“You’re up, kids!” the woman called.

A younger woman and a dragonborn rushed into the alley, beginning to hastily shackle the Sharran’s wrists. Gawking dumbfoundedly, Mel helped Avelina to her feet. Rence was near them, splayed on his back, his eye already swelling shut.

After a flicker of light, the dragonborn healed Rence. “Up you get, mate.”

With the danger gone, Sybella urged Gloraine to stand. “Is everyone alright?” she asked with a shaky voice.

Ignoring the Maiden , Mel waved a hand in front of a Sharran’s face. They groaned, side stepping her to lay their eyes back on the gem. “That was incredible,” she breathed. “Who are you?”

“Just a tick–” said the woman. “Isla, there aren’t any more of the buggers, yeah?”

“No ma’am,” answered the younger woman, shackling the last attacker.

“Grand. Vucith, if you may take this?” She handed off the gem to the dragonborn. “Now then, if you could all follow me?” Gesturing towards the alley’s exit, she said, “Bit cramped in here. And these Sharrans are about to be a mite unhappy.”

“Oh, well, I don’t–” Sybella hemmed.

Mel followed after the woman without a second thought, staring at her in awe. A sword was indeed strapped to her belt, untouched. White feathers were embroidered on the shoulders of the knight’s cloak, and she stood out as a beacon against the dusklight. 

“Sorry for all that,” the knight said, tossing her braid over her shoulder. “Name’s Wysaphine. We’ve been trackin’ the Sharrans all day, and had a feelin’ they’d go after the giving house rotation.”

Sybella meekly bowed her head. “We…we thank you, Maer Wysaphine. I don’t know how we can repay you.”

“Oh, no need, my lady,” Wysaphine insisted, shaking her head. “As a Knight of the Dove, it is my charge and my honor to protect the fine folk of this city.” Her eyes landed on Mel, and she smirked. “Good on you for that spell – it served as a superb distraction.” 

A bashful pride blossomed in Mel’s chest. “Th-thanks…” she murmured.

“You all okay to head back to the Moonflame?” Glancing down the well-lit road, she rested her hands on her hips. “We gotta get these rascals back to the Compter and I dunno how long it’ll take to get an escort over here.”

“If you wouldn’t mind–” Sybella started.

“We’ll be fine,” Mel assured, stepping forward.

Wysaphine gave her a lopsided grin. “If you’re at the forefront, I don’t doubt it.”

As they departed the Burnt Gables, Mel strode forward quickly, leading the troupe,  filled with the confidence the knight placed in her. She had a request for the High Moonmistress, and it wasn’t about a store house in Mortonbrace.

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