The Festival was well underway, but Merenwen wasn't terribly interested in it, all things considered. There were too many drunk people, too many loud people, too many fights, too much not-so-harmless flirting, and it was far better, for everyone, if Merenwen kept her distance from the festivities. She had, many a time, nearly gotten herself executed, because she mouthed off to one Dalmascan or another. It was difficult, sometimes, for her to remember, at least in the heat of the moment, that not everyone were Kassandros. While the young Essair leader might have given her the freedom to speak her mind, most in Dalmasca would take such as a threat, if not to their strict order, then to their pride. The older ilim was always up for destroying some idiot or another's pride, but perhaps, at a time like the Festivals, it'd be better to simply keep far, far away from it.

Today, as could be expected, the temple of Iuna in Nydema's borders was quite stuffed full to the rafters, with offerings, woven baskets, flower crowns, among other things, but the people came in, left their offerings, and then went out into the street to enjoy the festivities. Merenwen, a basket in her arms, with a collection of grains and corn husks within, silently padded into the temple. It was, quite cleverly, built into the side of a hill, mossy making its way down the walls, bits of rock and earth incorporated into the architecture. The columns were natural, still-living tree, holding the marble balconies in place, bits of crystal charged with aura lighting the way. The sun's rays filtered through a few well-placed holes in the ceiling, small streams gave way to waterfalls happily gurgling through channels in the temple floor. Iuna's temple was Merenwen's favourite, but, being as she was an earth mage, this should surprise no one, least of all herself, and most days, it didn't.

Smiling to herself, Merenwen padded across the temple floor, setting the basket of offering down with the rest. As she stood back up, gaze looking at the altar, and the interesting variety of offerings and gifts to Iuna that were there, her smile faded, just so. "I know everyone is asking for something, right now," Merenwen whispered, "and I know it's not your standard to interfere in mortal lives. But if you could find it in you, just a little, to help Kassandros, just a little, I would ever be grateful. He's lost, Iuna. Even as I hope he won't, I fear he may make the wrong choices. Not for Azaleon, but for himself." In truth, he already was making the wrong choices for himself. This... it wasn't the life Merenwen would've hoped he'd live. Certainly, she couldn't make him do anything, and he was always the best about listening to her; whatever guidance of hers he was going to heed, had already been so. The rest... well, the rest was up to him.

Still, she wondered what good one person that cared for him really was. Ksenia was home, now, and perhaps she'd be helpful, but it was also a matter of, Ksenia had been gone for the majority of his life, of their lives, and Merenwen didn't expect Ksenia to make a positive impression so soon. In fact, trying to on her part, may eventually lead to the opposite happening, and them resenting her in some manner, and Merenwen remembered her being smart enough to at least figure that out. It'd be some time, before she could help. And in a world that seemed entirely too willing to destroy everything in its way, maybe just one person that wasn't, just wasn't enough.

Ah, that he and his brothers had been born to any other nation but this one. Then, she wouldn't know them, so perhaps that was moot. Well, there was no sense dwelling on it too long. Instead, she shuffled back toward the temple entrance, settled down on the stairs, and decided it was a better idea to just watch. She should, she supposed, go home; there was always something that needed doing, but, eh, maybe nobody would die if she sat here for a moment. It was somewhat rare she got to enjoy the downtime.