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Finding the portal had turned out to be far more difficult than she had originally expected. The Twili were awfully secretive about their portals, but Circe had tracked a small group of them entering; knowing the tell-tale sign of magic in use. When she'd appeared before them, they'd been on guard, but ever on her best behavior, she demanded an audience with their new King. The Usurper, he'd been called.

She was unarmed, technically. Not that they needed to know the extent of her skills, and who would expect a Zora to be in command of the power she willed?

This realm was vastly different from Hyrule, entering flanked by Twili guards in fierce armor with blank expressions to a world void of the color Hyrule boasted. But magic hummed differently in the air, and the witch found she rather enjoyed the atmosphere it created. The shades of purple mixing with the black and grey around her, the sharp and severe look to the architecture spoke of power. And everywhere she walks, heads turn. Not unusual, a spot of white and red in a land of black. The Twili she saw looked like nobles, not peasants, dressed in finery that was so different from the nobles of Hyrule. But no less obvious as nobles. Part of her always detested those born into such luxury, it made one soft, weak, prone to expecting from everything around them. And Circe had learned long ago to expect less than nothing from the world and its inhabitants.

Yet here she was, venturing into an unknown realm, her chin raised and face a mask of impassiveness. The guards stop her at a grand entrance just inside the castle. The doors in front of her shut tight and decorated elegantly. Fit for a King. Violet flames flickered in even intervals on either side of the hallway she waited in. She hated waiting, even for a King.

Circe took the initiative into her own hands, besides, an unexpected visitor always meant an honest opinion on one's host. And that's what she wanted, to see if this Usurper King was worth all the rumors spreading into Hyrule. She steps towards the doors, hands out to push them open when the guards by her move to stop her. When the guards move to stop her, those violet flames turn red and orange, shooting practically up to the vaulted ceiling high above and stopping them in their tracks.

"I think I'll see the King now," she says simply, and without another try, Circe pushes open the doors into an elegant throne room. Her gold eyes lock onto the figure lounging at the head of it, and as she walks forward more violet torches turn to red and gold. She stops just at the edge of where his throne is, giving an appropriate bow as customary, and straightening with a feline smile.

"I would like to request an audience with His Majesty, I've quite an interesting offer he may want to hear," she says, and standing amidst a sea of black and deep purple, Circe cuts quite the figure, her white hair stark in this world with the red of her cloak, covering the black scaled armor she wore.

When shadows abated and the Sheikah woman presented herself, Circe stopped in her tracks. She studied the look of the woman, militaristic, composed. The bloody blade in her hand spoke to her actions and an unflinching demeanor around the cruelties of the world. Her voice was edged in darkness, similarly she thought, that her own was edged with cruelty. Returning the woman's plain smile with a sharp one of her own, too toothy to be kind, not wide enough to be genuine. Instead it was the posturing so many predators make, a flash of their fangs in challenge and defense. Her mother had once told her a smile was her best defense against the world, poor Aleto just didn't know what her daughter would take from that.

"It seems," she begins, her words lazy, drawn out and lingering, "that I had yet to meet the infamous leader of the Phenix Clan. And I couldn't pass up the opportunity, besides." another sharp smile as Circe cocks her head to one side, white hair loose and fluttering over her shoulder. "We are coworkers after all, shouldn't we get along?" 

Compared to her own garb, Ashur was dressed far more regally. A military uniform, crisp lines, clean cloth. Circe wore the scaled and patterned layers of leather armor. Across the torso and down her non-dominant hand, protecting her chest, at her knees and shins. Under that, was simple, but not inexpensive linen and silk pants and blouse.  Pinned at one shoulder with a clasp bearing remarkable similarity to the claw of a mythical creature was a cloak of the richest red fabric. "You have so diligently done your research on me, but what of you? Your clan, a renegade of Sheikah opposing the royal throne and backing Eleazar. Gaining his trust, like you've no doubt done many times in your long life. I will always be so jealous of your lengthy lifespans, another failing of the Zora I suppose. They do have so many, your lord must agree." as she speaks, Circe strolls slowly forward to Ashur, only stopping just in front of her.


"Now, if you have something to bring up with me, by all means. Go ahead." 

This had been a plan by Eleazar, to divide the forces of the Heroes; stress them out, drive them apart, thin the ranks. All of it. Circe had been all too willing to go through with it, it had meant she had time to mess with the hostages, terrorize some heroes as they tried to rescue their loved ones. She hadn't been aware of exactly who she'd been sent to watch over until she got there, though she'd been told that there was quite the important hostage in her hands. And while he should remain alive for as long as possible, should the situation arise, Circe was free to take matters into her own hands.

What had surprised her though, was walking into the cells built as close to the top of this crumbling tower as possible, was the King of Labrynna, Duchess of Symmetry City, a Zoran woman, and a Sheikah. She'd formally introduced herself, explained their purpose here, and told them to hope their precious heroes could make it to them in time.

Then she'd left the cells and stalked through the tower, watching out for any monsters lurking around, they were their own creatures, and Circe had thinned a few of their ranks out, leaving scorch marks on the walls and stairs of the tower. She hadn't been down to the lower floors since she got here, so she didn't know if any other creatures had moved in. If they had, the heroes had their own welcoming committee to deal with. She could wait patiently.

Then, sometime later, Circe heard a snap. A wooden floorboard, weak from age had just given somewhere in the tower, below her specifically. "Finally," she sighs, throwing a long white braid back over her shoulder and carefully making her way down the tower towards the noise.

There was one, a few floors below her. She had quietly stepped off the landing and spotted the light in his hands, the eldest prince. He hadn't quite noticed her yet, but he had noticed the sound he had made. Slowly, Circe emerged from the darkened landing, footsteps light on the old ground. She wore black scaled leather armor that allowed her to move freely and use her magic without hindrance, a dark cloak draped over her shoulders.

"So, you finally decided to show up. Here to save your dear friend, no doubt."

Circe's gaze returns to their walk. The sunlight of the afternoon drifting down between buildings and onto the streets, she watches people live their lives ignorant to the enemies around them. She can see the shadows moving at the edges of her vision, Eleazar's men of the Rogue Order keeping their presence in Castle Town unknown but their influence felt. The witch could feel the tension stirring in the air, and while the two walked on in similar stance to those around them, she found that they stood out. A Twili and golden-eyed Zora.


There was not trust to be found in the Twili, Circe hadn't trusted another being in quite some time, but at the very least amiable companionship while she studied the area and its people was enough. She had found, rather amusingly, that it seemed to be enough for him. Circe even thought that Veltuzar may harbor more distaste for the citizens here than even she did.


"I have read many things on the Era of the Twilight Princess. I understand that Twili are rather long lived like their cousins of this realm. You'll find I feel very little on the subject, though I do respect those who would take power for themselves rather than waste away idly." she pauses, smiling amusedly at his declaration. "So, your goal is to take the Twilight Realm for yourself? How rather ambitious. An entire realm." there is a small bit of admiration in the Witch's words. In her quest to find a King willing to take power for himself, a valuable ally in the plans against her kind, she had found a budding one in this Twili. Circe amused herself with the thought, all men; just dying to be King's aren't they?


"Join the fold or die trying? Quite the anti-rebellion are you? Rather ironic saying coming from someone who plans to take power from another."


She looks over at him when he laughs, arching one dainty white eyebrow, understanding when she turned back to the crowds around them. "These days, everyone is an enemy and an ally waiting to strike. The only difference is who you find first."

She had briefly noticed some time ago the teacup in his hand, and thought about the simplicity of this Twili drinking tea in a realm he so disliked. He had no doubt sat at a teashop nearby and ordered, waited amongst the rest of the rabble, possibly spoken rather civily to workers and other around him. And here he was, whispering things that would no doubt have him greeted by a hangman should someone overhear. "How odd and quaint, your enjoyment of the simple things of this realm while you speak in distaste of it."

As soon as she felt the grip on her arm tighten, she knew. The strange Twili, Veltuzar, had figured out who she was. And she could tell he was nervous. But he gave her a name, one she did not recognize, though she'd be surprised if she recognized many of the Twili, her encounters with them were quite limited until this point. "What a pleasure, Veltuzar," she says, practically purring out the word 'pleasure' and his name. She'd love to see him try and create a falsehood out of who she was, all the rumors that trailed behind her in the smoke. Every incident being used to strike fear into the Zora who so ruthlessly shunned her, she'd show them what ruthless was.

"Very few have ever seen it that way, Veltuzar. After all, I am a monster. Born from tales used to scare children in the night. 'Beware the witch, lest ye fall into her fangs and talons'." Circe mocks, laughing softly at the idea told to small children. "I find my powers to be a gift, despite what the Zora think. Their small minds don't know what true power really is."

Very rarely, had Circe so simply wandered an area seemingly at peace with what's around her. Rarer still, did she do it with a man on her arm she had no intentions of murdering. It was, almost relaxing, to the young Zora woman.

When Veltuzar admits to enjoying this walk, there's another surge of amusement in her. Not that it was his fault, many men whose chivalric nature had gotten the better of them had said similar things, Circe had learned to use her beauty as an advantage. The only difference now, was that this man knew who she was and what she could do.

"From your earlier rant, it suggests you are not the fan of this realm. But what of your own?" she asks, glancing over at him with gold eyes that almost lazily look him over. Seemingly carelessly, though Circe intentionally looked for any bit of weaponry or magical ability he may hide should the need arise. "You seem to know my plight well, to put it simply, I'm looking for the one being in this realm who shares a similar experience to my own. And he resides rather recently in this castle."