Tarsuria, Year of Severus, 15, I.R., the 85th day of Fall, Arenfall

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The sun set over the horizon and painted the sky with its crimson streaks. The tent was back to its somber atmosphere. The senators had already cooped up inside their tents just outside the Arenfall mines. Lord Prestonheim stared into the horizon, contemplating on the events that happened a month's past.

The ores, the politics and the struggles that he had to endure could've been all avoided if he chose not to help his poor godson. But what can he do? It was too late to back out at this point. Prince Arterius had already gone this far for him to abandon him.

If anything, he should be the one to have advised his godson off this mess, but the tenacious prince would've quickly dismissed him and his comments. He knew that the only thing he could do to help him was to support him.

"Lord Commander." A knight appeared behind him and bowed. "Your tent is ready."

He nodded back at the knight and followed him to his relocated tent. Unfortunately, the ice from the little demonstration earlier turned out to be too sturdy for just the regular heat of the sun, or fire magic to melt. They had to painstakingly transfer his tent somewhere away from the affected area and hope that the crawling ice would begin to melt come nightfall.

He went into his tent. It felt colder than outside. The ice magic coming from those ice cubes that Prince Arterius ordered him to throw on the ground was too strong. Even after that demonstration, some of the magic lingered inside his tent making it cooler than the temperature outside his tent.

It was indeed a technological wonder that encompassed the usage of runes and pure ice magic. As what Prince Arterius told them, it was a technology that even the common man could use with little effort. But what truly sent chilling sensations down his spine was how this technology could change the tide of battle in their war against the Western Empire.

"Imagine how damaging would this be with the cannon I designed and this magical item as a projectile? I wouldn't come near it, if I were you!" His godson remarked earlier that day.

He sat on his cold chair and shook his head. "How did he even figure that out?" He said to himself.

As far as he could remember, they received the same report from 305-M. He wasn't able to speak with the man, let alone interacted with the crazy redhead a few days prior. So, how did he know how to use it? He smiled as he massaged the bridge of his nose. He will try and ask his godson about it once he's waken up.

The poor prince Arterius collapsed after the heavy debate he had with the Senators. Even though most of them were satisfied by his answers and his progress, Senator Lucresia and his allies still mumbled away for his so-called irresponsibility.

"Quite a show Prince Arterius did back there, don't you think?" Maceus entered inside the tent, smiling with a bottle of wine in his hand, "Care to join?" He offered.

"I am sorry, my godson, but this old man cannot tolerate as much alcohol nowadays. But, please, do come in!" He said.

Maceus went in and grabbed a stool with his other hand and sat across Lord Prestonheim on his table.  The young commander shivered as he sat on the stool. He smiled at him while plucking out the cork with his mouth.

"Well, since you're not drinking, godfather." He held the bottle up high. "Salud!" He gulped the wine down leaving only half of it.

He put the bottle down on the table, grinning at Lord Prestonheim for reasons that were still elusive to him.

"You seemed to be on happy mood." Lord Prestonheim said as he picked up 305-M's research notes.

"What do you mean by that, godfather?" Maceus took another sip on the bottle. "I am always in a good mood."

"Hmm…perhaps." Lord Prestonheim said while reading the parchment. "Have you finished your investigation?"

The silver-haired commander instigated the topic that his godson had been so elusive all this time. Maceus grin turned into a stoic brooding. Lord Prestonheim wanted to discuss his friend's death to Maceus sooner or later. The Crovar's had been through a lot throughout the years, with their heirs dying left and right. First with his uncle, Syleon Crovar's son then the rest of the family line followed. His godson was lucky to have outlived them.

"I cannot express everything I need to say to your family in that letter I sent." Lord Prestonheim began. "Your uncle was a man of honor. He wanted to be useful to his prince even though it meant losing his life." He sighed.

Lord Prestonheim failed to stop his aging friend from descending to the hole. He had regretted the fact that he hadn't been as much assertive as he should've. That death was preventable and unnecessary. He knew about it and so does his godson too.

"I just wish that you wouldn't seek vengeance on his accidental demise." He said.

Maceus was emotionless. He took a swig from the bottle of wine and shook his head. He was shifting his body on the stool he sat on. Lord Prestonheim also noticed how his godson would avoid eye contact with him.

"Isn't just me or is your stool too cold it freezes your balls?" Maceus asked.

Lord Prestonheim stood up from his chair, furious at his godson's apathetic response. "Not this again, Maceus! For once, I would like to converse with you seriously but—"

"I know how you feel, godfather." Maceus interrupted. "But if you would like to get an opinion from me regarding what happened to my uncle, then you won't like my answer." He looked at his godfather straight in the eyes.

"Speak then, I won't take it against you." Lord Prestonheim guaranteed him. 

"Very well, you asked for it, godfather." His godson sighed. "It was foolish for that old man to go down there. He should've retired already and lived his life quietly…but…no! He wanted glory and honor more than a peaceful death."

"He did it for the Principalia."

"No godfather, he most likely did it for himself. Not that I am angry about it. In fact, I feel relieved that he found the glory and honor he sought for all this time."

Lord Prestonheim sighed and nodded at him.

"I hoped he found his glory at his last living moments, no matter how difficult it could've been."

"Still, he was foolish! And if you had it your way, godfather I knew you would've gone down there."

Lord Prestonheim glared at the young commander before bellowing a laugh. He wasn't sure if it was a joke intended to him or not, but it was funny because it was true. Without a doubt he could've took that chance to go down that damned hole if Prince Arterius wasn't threatened to lose his birthright.

He wiped the welling tears on his eyes, "Maybe, I could use a drink."

Maceus grinned and gave the bottle to him. Lord Prestonheim broke his rule that night and took a swig of the ice cold wine.

"To the fools that guise themselves as the braves!" Lord Prestonheim exclaimed.

"Hear! Hear!" Maceus laughed.

After their laughter, they returned into silence once more. Maceus started the conversation once again.

"I got to say, my godbrother was spectacular earlier." He took the bottle from Lord Prestonheim and drank some wine.

Lord Prestonheim nodded. Prince Arterius was indeed spectacular. It has been a while since someone silenced Senator Lucresia. He would never forget the balding old man's face as it seethed with anger and frustration over his brilliant godson.

"He was indeed." Lord Prestonheim smiled. "It's been a while since I saw that old man's disgruntled face."

"When was the last time? The forging of the Crimson Order?" Maceus winked.

Both of them laughed. The outgoing Maceus had an extraordinary sense of humor that even the hardened hearts of Syleon and himself would stifle a laugh or two because of his wit. Maceus was about to drink from the bottle once again when suddenly Lord Prestonheim felt the ground move.

"Did you feel that?" The silver-haired commander held his godson's hand, ordering him to stay still.

"I-I guess I do…" Maceus put down the bottle on the table and stood up slowly. "Is it just me or does it feel colder than usual?"

Lord Prestonheim's skin prickled. His tent was indeed colder than the usual. Both men stared at each other before rushing outside with weapons on hand. Something didn't feel right. There was pressure pressing down on the commander's chest; a sign that someone released too much energy into the surroundings it shifted the air pressure. Lord Prestonheim looked around and saw the knights not noticing the slight shift. Most of them were huddled in the campfire while others loitered around the camp.

The Senators were also clueless as to the situation. Haven't they felt it? It was clearly obvious that something was about to happen. Lord Prestonheim rushed to the Prince Arteirus tent along with Maceus, but before they could take another step, Senator Lucresia came running towards them.

"WHAT IN THE WORLD IS GOING ON?!" The senator pointed at the silver-haired commander. "Is the ground shaking?!"

"Looks like it." He answered.

"Is that all you can say?!"

"I don't have an answer for this!"

"Where's 305-M? Hey you! Yes, you! Get that slave here quickly!" Senator Lucresia ordered a random knight passing by.

Lord Prestonheim could feel something big was about to happen. He turned to Maceus who seemed to be staring at the sky.

"Maceus, I need you to—"

"Godfather, there's another moon behind the Chandea." Maceus said bewildered at what he saw.

"What do you mean another moon?! That's perposter…ous." Senator Lucresia looked up and was baffled with what he saw.

Lord Prestonheim looked at the sky and saw a small object peeking over the great Chandea. It was indeed another moon! It had a faint blue glow, a beautiful azure ray over the dark canvas. However, the more they stared into it, they noticed the glow became stronger and brighter.

All of a sudden, the ground shook violently, and glowing lines began to appear with a searing pale blue light that glowed as bright as the small, timid moon behind the bigger one. That was when Lord Prestonheim recalled a story he heard from before.

"Oyue, the brightest!" Lord Prestonheim exclaimed.