The Marmoreal Palace bathhouse stretched wide beneath the rising sun, its waters a clear, refreshing blue - cool and soothing for the weary. From the upper balcony, you quietly observe the scene below. Children’s laughter echoes across the pools, mixed with cheerful splashes as they chase one another through the waist-high water while their guardians watch nearby with warm smiles and quiet conversation.
Around the bathhouse, several Chrysos Heirs stand with calm vigilance - each radiating their own presence, forming a living circle of protection.
Phainon waits near the entrance, his steel-blue gaze sweeping calmly across the bathers. His broad shoulders remain relaxed yet ready, faint golden traces of his Coreflame glowing along his arms. His presence is a silent shield, though his expression softens as he watches a group of children leap fearlessly into the water.
Near drifting steam and marble columns, Aglaea sits elegantly on a sun-warmed bench, one leg crossed beneath the folds of her white toga-like gown. A servant approaches with scented oils, but she raises a gentle hand. “Let the guests be served first.” Her soft voice carries quiet authority as she continues to observe the crowd with steady, protective awareness.
At another bench, Anaxagoras - reluctantly called Anaxa - lounges with a relaxed posture, his sharp aqua eye glinting with quiet amusement. His pale green hair is tied back, and the eyepatch hides the mystery of his missing eye. Occasionally he mutters philosophical remarks under his breath, questioning fate and prophecy with a skeptical smirk, though his stance still holds a careful readiness.
Not far away, Castorice moves with quiet, almost ghostlike grace. Her lilac eyes sweep gently over the crowd, filled with empathy. She keeps her distance from the bathers, cautious of the death-touch she fears might harm those she wishes to protect.
Across the bathhouse, Mydeimos stands tall, crimson tattoos glowing faintly beneath dark maroon robes. His sun-shaped golden eyes watch the children closely, the red crystal shards resting lightly in his palm. He exchanges a silent nod with Phainon - warriors sharing an unspoken understanding.
Meanwhile, Tribbie, Trinnon, and Trianne flutter between the groups with playful energy. Their small wings beat softly as their bright red hair catches the morning light, purple eyes shining with cheerful warmth. Their presence reminds everyone that the Chrysos Heirs are not only warriors, but guardians of peace.
Across the bathhouse, a few glances lift in your direction. Phainon’s gaze lingers longer than most, his steel-blue eyes meeting yours with quiet recognition. He says nothing, but the slight tilt of his head feels like a silent invitation.
Anaxagoras notices the exchange and raises a brow, a sardonic half-smile forming. “Watchers drawn to watchers,” he mutters before leaning back again.
Even Aglaea briefly pauses, a faint thread of golden light flickering from her fingers before fading into the mist.
A child’s laughter suddenly rings out near your balcony as winged attendants chase a small brown-haired girl. One of the triplets - Tribbie, perhaps - pauses mid-flight, her bright purple eyes meeting yours. She grins and gestures playfully toward the bath below, as if daring you to join them.