It may have been one in the morning and cold even for April, but Jewell sat outside on the rooftop patio anyway. The heat lamps scattered throughout the area gave off just enough warmth to keep her teeth from chattering; the almost empty bottle of wine at her side helped too.

She had wanted to be alone (especially since Sapphire was out and she couldn't yell at her). She had needed time to think about what Raye had asked: what hurt the worst? She kept coming back to the same answer no matter which way she approached the problem: everything.

Everything hurt too much.

So she sat on the patio and let the lights of the city she loved most soothe her a little. They were a constant reminder that at least she was here in RhyDin. At least she was alive. At least she wasn't trapped in Faerie anymore. The Empress had escaped. She had survived. Now she just had to figure out what kind of existence was left to her.

Rayvinn had been just about to portal back to her war zone, finding it less dangerous than remaining in RhyDin, when she recalled that she had unfinished business with Jewell. "No, you're not off the hook that easily, fairy." She snorted and walked the distance to Jewell's place, looking like death on the prowl for a new victim.

Letting herself in since she has all of the security codes to the place, a fact that Jewell would likely change very soon, Rayvinn looked around until she finally realized the faerie was out on the roof. Grabbing another bottle of fae wine, the elf stepped out the patio door and dropped into one of the patio lounge chairs and kicked her booted feet up.

"Nice night."

Jewell had been expecting her friend, but that didn't stop her from actually jumping out of her seat when she heard the patio door open. Her heart beat wildly in her chest as she forced herself to settle back down on her chair, frowning when she realized she had spilled some of her wine.

This was the kind of behavior Sapphire was worried about.

Rayvinn hadn't been attempting to hide her presence though she was still more quiet than most humans as she opened the patio door. She knew Jewell would be able to hear her thus was surprised by the way the faerie jumped. An already sharply arched brow had ticked up further as she sat.

"Yeah, it is pretty nice.?

"So, are you going to tell me why you looked like some helpless damsel in fear for her life when I made enough noise to wake the dead when I opened the door?" She had always been far more blunt than was ever good for her but after spending a month on the battlefield with her soldiers, the elf barely had any softness left to cover the knife sharp edges of her personality.

The Faerie gave Rayvinn a rather unfriendly look at the damsel in distress comment because it struck too true. Even with her magic back and mostly working, that's how she felt. ?Wasn't sure if you were going to show up. Thought maybe Cane was going to sweep you off your feet." She glanced to those mud caked boots. "Your dirty dirty feet."

The elven queen snorted at her friend's comment about Cane. "It will take more than that gorgeous face and body to sweep me off of my feet...even my dirty, dirty feet." She offered a smirk.

"You know, this is probably my favorite part about this place after my soaking tub." It was just chatter to fill the air as she refilled her glass, emptying the bottle of wine she had brought outside and gesturing with her glass to the cityscape.

"I miss my soaking tub." She sighed and then nodded to herself as she came up with yet another of her grandiose ideas. "I should have one brought to my tent. My bed and desk are already there, why not my tub to soak away all of the stress that dreadful general causes me?" Yes, this elf before Jewell that looked like the incarnation of death itself had all of the girlish amenities in her tent on the battlefield. She certainly knew how to wage war in comfort.

"But, enough about me. We're sitting on the loveliest rooftop in the City, you have the absolute best company you could wish for, and there is an endless supply of fae wine. Spill your woes." And with that pronouncement, Rayvinn uncorked the new bottle of wine and topped off the faerie's glass before promptly taking a swig straight from the bottle. No manners at all. Once the war was over, Jewell would likely need to work overtime to integrate the elf back into society.

She accepted the drink refill and turned to look at the city lights. "I just keep thinking that somewhere out there, they're waiting for me. Ishmerai looked. He did a thorough search and didn't find anyone. He said I got them all. But I think they're still out there and when they come? I will be helpless."

This obviously required a greater explanation that she was trying to work herself up to giving. "We didn't tell you. Ishmerai wanted to but I felt like too much of a fool to allow him to do so." She took a deep breath. For some reason, it had been much easier to prattle off this detail to Kal, who never seemed to make a big deal about anything. "In February, in order to get my magic back, I sold my name."

There. She had said it! Jewell let that statement sit in the air a moment before adding on the part that haunted her every step since that day, "And they used it."

Rayvinn had the bottle held up to her lips for a drink when Jewell dropped that bomb of information. Sputtering and wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand, the elf stared wide eyed at her friend. "Oh Jewellsie. Were you that desperate?" She didn't yell or tell the faerie she was an idiot because she knew what desperation felt like and had made her own share of desperate mistakes that had almost gotten her killed.

Jewell shifted on the chaise lounge, pulling her legs up until they were tucked against her chest, one arm wrapped around them to keep them there so she could rest her chin upon her knees. She looked as small and vulnerable as she likely felt. "I was very desperate." Desperate to avenge her children. Desperate to keep Ishmerai from getting himself killed.

"So who has it, how did they use it, and what do we need to do to fix this?" The General regained control of the elf's mind and she was ready to formulate a battle strategy to solve the problem even though she likely couldn't. She heaved a sigh, dropped her mud caked boots from the table, and leaned forward with her elbows upon her knees. The gravity of the situation hadn't escaped her.

She couldn't express how thankful she was that Rayvinn didn't yell at her. She didn't rail against her stupidity like the knight had. She just accepted it and moved on. "I sold it to the Temple of the Divine Mother." Even saying the name of the cult sent a wave of goosebumps across her bare arms. "They used it to see what I could do for them." Jewell closed her eyes tightly as she tried to explain, "It was like being a puppet. I could see everything. I knew what I was doing. But I couldn't control it. I had no choice."

Her breathing, increasingly rapid as she tried to describe the experience, slowed again as she forced herself to take a few deep breaths through her nose. "And then they dropped their guard." The Empress lifted her chin up and looked at her friend, unashamed of what she had to say next, "So I killed them."

With the bottle in one hand, Rayvinn ran her other hand over the spattering of thick, dirty battle braids and then rubbed the back of her neck. When Jewell began to speak again, the elf turned in her chair so that she was facing her friend and gave the faerie her full attention. She didn't miss how helpless and small the woman appeared and it lit a fire in her heart that anyone could do that to such a spirited woman; that they had done that to her best friend.

Rayvinn nodded in understanding as Jewell began to explain what had happened. When her breathing increased, the elf stood and strode over to sit next to her friend, not touching her but being close as a support.

"Please tell me you killed them all."

Her grey eyes darkened and darted away. Shame, fury, and fear all twisted her noble features. "I don't know," Jewell admitted quietly before her gaze darted right back to Raye as she quickly offered an explanation. She needed a justification for why she had failed. "It was dark. I don't know how many of them there were. I don't know how long I was under their control. Maybe some of them escaped while they," her voice trembled a moment as she couldn't even land on the most appropriate word, "tried me. And we were underground.

"Did you know that I hate being underground? It terrifies me." Jewell laughed a little. "It's funny, you know? Because Faeries and all the myths about being underground. But I hate it. The fear strikes so deep, it becomes hard to think." She stopped, trying to collect her thoughts and stop rambling.

"So I don't know if I got them all. I don't know if they're going to show up here one day with my name on their lips and destruction of everything I love in their hearts. If they do? I'll be helpless to stop them. I will do everything and anything they want. And that just kills me. It kills me and terrifies me."

She took another deep breath. Baring her soul to her friend was a relief in some ways. It was someone else to share the burden with. Someone who wasn't judging her. "I thought things would be better because I have my magic back, but it's worse. Everything is even more out of my control. My magic doesn't work right. I lost my name. I just feel more lost and hopeless than before."

Rayvinn listened calmly, no outward sign of the rage that was beginning to boil to overflowing within her belly as she watched her friend react in very much the same way as a rape victim; honestly, wasn't she, though?

Gently taking Jewell's hand, she gave it a light squeeze and tried to keep her voice as soothing as possible. "You are not helpless and you will never be helpless again. If they are out there, we will find them, rest assured. While we are doing that, you can learn ways to fortify yourself. I will train you myself, if you wish." Another light squeeze before she released the frail, trembling hand. As much as Rayvinn wanted to assume control over this situation, to solve the problem, she realized that the work had to be done by Jewell herself. She knew this from personal experience; painful experience that threatened to, even now, drown her in memories she'd tried to drink or fight away. She'd self destructed and that was exactly what she was going to try to prevent Jewell from doing. So no rage, no ranting, no violence; the elf was soothing in word and posture, cool and rational so it appeared.

Nodding softly at her friend?s last words, she tried to offer reassurance. "Darkness comes before the dawn but the sun will rise again, Jewell. We'll make it so."