A beautiful night... It was the kind of sight that would normally inspire a soliloquy, maybe a quaint limerick. Instead, Aven sat on the roof of the Guild Hall, among the brilliant hues of Magnolia, his feet dangling hopelessly off the back. For him, it wasn't the time for new composures, or beginnings. No, he was stuck tackling old inhibitions, enemies he thought he'd conquered long ago: melancholy, inadequacy, weakness. It was the same story over and over, like a nightmare he just couldn't shake. How could he, when he seemed to fail at every turn? He could still feel that dreadful omen, the sense of his control slipping, the Seeker Circles going berserk. If he'd only paid more attention, if he'd predicted Leona's tactics better...
Wait. He ran the scene through his mind once more, painful as it was. That makes no sense... He'd had time to calm down, regain a small portion of composure. Why had the Seeker Circles adjusted to full power? Warning signals were firing off in his mind, and he scoured through his memory for the coding of Seeker Circles. They had a variable in the matrix which could be manually set anywhere from zero to twenty, but the variable was just that: manual. If he'd lost his connection to the Circles, say by being out of range, the Seeker Circles should always repeat the last variabl imput, since their Repetition Glyph caused them to reappear identical to how they were before they triggered. That meant... no, that was impossible. He would have sensed if someon interfere with his Circles with a foreign magic! But it was unexplainable otherwise: someone, somehow, had set the Seeker Circles to maximum, without him even realizing it. His loss of control, by that logic, might also have been caused by an outside source, rather than his surprise at Leona's strategy.
What would be the motive, though? There were many things Aven was unsure of, but he'd built his Circles from the ground up, Glyph by Glyph: it would either incredible skill and preparation, or serious inside knowledge of the Circles themselves to wrestle control of them from Aven so flawlessly and smoothly. Had it not been for the inconsistency he'd found in the situation, Aven would have been none the wiser, it was executed so perfectly. The trouble was, even if they were modified by someone else, they wouldn't have struck anything but Leona and her summons... which left a jarring set of possibilities. It could have been an attempt on Leona's life, though he found that option the least likely, as there wasn't any real precident to predict that would be ahead in the fight to take advantage of his Circles in such a way, which, again, would have required ample foreknowledge to prepare. It could also have been targeted at himself, perhaps an ploy to have him convicted of Leona's murder, but again, this fell through for the same reason as before. The most likely alternative was a plot to break up the Alliance, cause infighting between the guilds. That would allow any number of Dark organizations to move freely without detection, a harrowing thought.
Aven's analysis didn't improve his mood much. He'd been hoodwinked, nearly used as a pawn in someone else's game, and that didn't sit well with him. Still, whatever it was had failed, and he could be satisfied with the knowledge that everyone was safe and sound. He reached out, trying once more to conjure a Circle, and with a smile, he watched as a Sound Circle emerged in front of him. Music would fit a night like that around him, and with a small wave of his hand, the Circle emenated the soft melody of a piano, a piece he'd composed himself at the banquet hall in his home. If someone was listening closely, they might hear the rise and fall of chords, as Aven began to sing to the stars, the ghost of a smile on his face:
Can you hear me?
As we walk along, our footsteps sing a melody: hearts in harmony.
Just a theory, that in time, we could be something more than tragedy; would you weep for me?
Can you see me?
Putting on a smile, to soothe an aching misery? What I fear to be;
That I'll get weary, waiting here for you, while you give me the third degree,
Like I'm nobody...
It's a pain that's building up inside,
Only part of me I try to hide.
I'd throw everything I have away,
If the heart in me could hear you say:
"Boy, take my hand, let's fly;
To a place where we can watch the world pass us by,
You can be the one to wipe my tears as they dry,"
'Cause I'd never ask for more, than the wings I need to soar:
Just you, and I.
Can you hear me,
When my soul cries out a soft and tender symphony,
Yours, the harmony:
It's a feeling, that can drive away the sadness and cacophony.
Will you sing with me?
So, girl, take my hand, let's fly;
To a place where we can watch the world pass us by,
You can be the one to wipe my tears as they dry,"
And you'll never ask for more, than the wings you need to soar:
Just you, and I!