Euryphel knew that they had nothing to leverage against the terms of surrender. The SPU couldn’t use Ian as a counter threat: If the decemancer returned to take his own Selejan hostages, he’d only be caught in the Eldemari’s web. He watched on as the others in the room raged and complained about the terms, noting that nobody was suggesting any way to get around them.

They’ve already given up.

A tide of calm certainty washed over the prince; he knew what he needed to do. He brought down the moderator’s gavel, a wind-empowered bang quieting the room and sending sheets of spare paper tumbling. He gave everyone an impassive look, then sighed and looked to Ko’la.

“I, Karen Euryphel Selejo, stand down as Crowned Prime. I renounce all ties to the Selejo Prince’s Union and will depart before five in the evening, effective at the conclusion of this meeting.”

The room was silent enough to hear a pin drop.

Euryphel sneered. “The terms of surrender bind the SPU, but they will not bind an abdicated prince.”

Nobody asked for a clarification, nor did anyone protest whether he was really willing to go so far. He was Euryphel Selejo, the boy who nearly worked himself to the precipice to slay the man responsible for the deaths of his parents, the man who seized upon the SPU’s one chance at turning the tables on their old enemy.

“I see that everyone understands the situation,” Euryphel murmured, leaning forward to pull up the map of the SPU and Selejo side by side. “Ko’la will be the Crowned Prime after tonight and I know he’ll do an excellent job complying with the Eldemari’s terms. It may be prudent, however, to discuss what actions an abdicated prince might take when relieved of his former responsibilities.”

Euryphel smiled, flashing his teeth as he made eye contact with everyone in the room.

“I understand what you’re thinking, but I’m not sure how it’ll make a difference,” Ko’la murmured. “The Eldemari will be able to send all her personnel in pursuit of the Skai’aren. Even if we send Ian away from Gnoste now, by this evening the Eldemari will know of his previous location and her agents will be able to trace him.”

“You’re not wrong. Without our active resistance, Ian will be the sole target of an entire nation. Moreover, with Selejo’s victory near certain, eastern states will be more likely to help than hinder her agents to curry favor.”

Diana narrowed her eyes, thick lashes casting shadows over rouged cheeks. “The only hope we still have is for the Skai’aren to stay alive, right?”

“So it seems,” Hor’well replied, his low baritone carrying through the room. “Can anyone think of a place that the Skai’aren could shelter until the descendant’s arrival?”

Everyone’s eyes fell to Prince Shivin’i, the highest-affinity Beginning practitioner in the room.

“It would need to be somewhere that the Skai’aren could reach before we accept the terms of surrender. He would need to be able to arrive there without leaving a trace. Moreover, the location would need to be somewhere remote and generally inaccessible.”

“What about a place that’s warded against End augury?” Diana murmured, her brow furrowed.

Hor’well shook his head. “If we knew of such a place, we would have sent the Skai’aren there from the beginning. End is one of the most difficult affinities to confound.”

Shivin’i’s eyes narrowed. “Actually, there are places that confound End; in fact, they confound everything the longer one stays within them. A key problem is that they’re hostile for any kind of extended stay.” He looked around the room. “Any guesses?”

Euryphel inclined his head. “Rifts.”

Shivin’i nodded. “Rifts.”

The room fell into a contemplative silence.

“Which rift?” Diana murmured, glancing down at the glossY in her hand.

Ezenti snorted indignantly, his hands crossed over his chest. “Unless everyone present aside from the Crowned Prime agrees to let me blot this discussion from their minds...we’d best not proceed.”

Shivin’i was first to raise his hand. “I’m willing. Ezenti, I suppose you’re willing to tamper with your own memories, then? I’m surprised.”

The third prince’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve been a prime longer than half the people in this room have been alive. You think I’d hesitate to do what’s necessary to preserve what fleeting chance at victory remains, Shivin’i?” Ezenti shook his head and chuckled without humour. “No. While it’s regretful that we’ve come to this point, the Crowned Prime’s decision to abdicate is in part forcing my hand.”

Euryphel frowned. “What do you mean to say, Ezenti?”

“There’s another way forward than the path you’ve blustered onto, prince,” Ezenti said. “Rather than rebuff the Eldemari and fight her until the bitter end, why not secure the power of the SPU through matrimony. I guarantee it’s not too late.”

Euryphel’s lips curved into a grimace, his eyes narrowing. “Not a word more.”

Ezenti shrugged. “It’s just a thought.”

“It’s not a terrible idea,” Ko’la murmured, his expression thoughtful. “Of course, it’d spell the end for our Skai’aren.”

“Gentlemen...” Shivin’i interjected, raising his hand a little higher. “I believe the Crowned Prime has made his decision. Now, who else will join me in agreeing to have the rest of this discussion effaced from memory?”

Diana looked off to the side, a hand tugging absently at her soul gem bracelet. She turned her gaze to Euryphel, her expression inscrutable.

“I agree,” Pyramin Iffis said from the far side of the table, running a hand through his white hair. “As Secretary of War, I see no reason not to consent.”

“I agree,” Diana finally said, her voice barely carrying.

Eventually all hands in the room were raised.

“Let us proceed, then,” Euryphel said, nodding. “We have a few rifts we won access to in the Fassari summit, but there’s one key problem.”

Hor’well adjusted the strap of his eyepatch. “They’re public holdings; the Eldemari would know of them.”

Euryphel steepled his fingers. “Exactly.”

Suddenly Diana’s face lit up. “I’ve got it!” she grinned, disturbing the solemn atmosphere. She made a small gesture above her glossY until the projection at the center of the table transformed into a map spanning the entire world.

“Diana, what is the meaning of this?” Ezenti spat.

“After the Fassari Summit, I was put in charge of managing our Influence rewards,” she explained. “That included a number of things, including trade agreements, rift passes…”

“Which wouldn’t matter because our rift pass holdings are public,” Shivini retorted. “They were revealed during the awards distribution.”

“I know that, just let me finish!” Diana hissed, glaring. “What we also received from Fassar was a report from the Eastern Rift-Detection System, ERS for short. Despite its name, ERS reports directly to Fassar who then distributes the report according to summit rankings. Thanks to the SPU’s performance, we received the report along with two other nations, Iastra and Citelle.”

Iffis crossed his arms. “Not Selejo...but the report is still in the hands of two others.”

Diana shook her head, blond tendrils bouncing by her ears. “But that might not matter. The ERS monitors energy disturbances, but those alone fail to indicate rift size and stability: They might be unstable and ephemeral, massive and regenerative...and anything in between. The key point of consideration is that ERS reports contain hundreds of potential rift readings...many of which disappear by the release of the next report.”

“Venturing into an unstable rift doesn’t sound like the best idea,” Euryphel murmured. He was willing to test himself against powerful riftbeasts, but even the most powerful practitioner would die if a rift collapsed into singularity and disappeared.

“Diana, how many ERS reports do you have at this point?” Shivin’i asked.

She turned his way, her red lips curving downward. “Just two, unfortunately.”

The Beginning practitioner rubbed his jaw. “How many rifts from the first report are in the second?”

Diana made another gesture and produced two tables with potential rift names and locations, one for each report. “I need to consolidate them...”

Shivin’i shook his head. “No need: There are only eight rifts that carried over into the second report. Of those, only one lies between our location and that of the Skai’aren. If we’re really going with this rift plan, I think we only have one choice given our time constraints.”

Diana frowned. “Which rift?”

Shivin’i made a gesture and swiped away the two report tables, then pointed at a point on the map in the Illyrian Ocean. “Diana, please display the details for rift site 1E-45.”

The fourth prince squinted at her glossY and prodded the screen, causing a rectangular overlay to appear over Shivin’i’s point of interest.

Potential Rift Site 1E-45

First detected: 04/22/35

Stability: Medium.

Notes: Traces of energy disturbance from beneath the Eastern fault. Levels seem negligible, though readings may be hampered by site depth.

Euryphel thrummed his fingers on the table. “Shivin’i, you seem unsettled.”

The Beginning practitioner groaned. “This is an unknown rift inside the Jermal Trench, the deepest undersea trench in the world. Going inside is practically asking for death. There’s no way to safely probe the unfortunately-located rift with such little time; moreover, the Eldemari would note any movement of our troops East, especially now that her allies have retaken most of Godora. While both you and the Skai’aren are highly capable, this endeavor is mired in risk. ”

“I see,” Ko’la interrupted, combing his dark bangs back with two fingers. “And it’s for exactly this reason that Euryphel proposed his plan: venturing into an unknown rift is so foolhardy that a Beginning practitioner would rule it out as a possibility. Combined with the fact that rifts confound End...it’s reasonable that the Crowned Prime and the Skai’aren could shelter there indefinitely until the descendant’s arrival.”

Shivin’i’s mouth popped open as he studied Ko’la; Euryphel thought it looked like the man was trying to discern whether Ko’la had gone insane.

“Of course, the problem is that it is a foolhardy plan,” Ko’la continued, his eyes moving past Shivin’i to meet those of the Crowned Prime. “We won’t stand you throwing your life away, Euryphel.”

Euryphel understood the concern of those present, but he felt a peculiar absence of fear when he thought of venturing into the depths of the Jermal Trench and passing into an untested rift with Ian by his side.

He decided to enter into a scenario and ask Ian for his opinion on the matter.

“Ian?” Euryphel transmitted over quantum channel.

“I’m with Soolemar; what’s up?”

“How would you feel about venturing into an unexplored rift?”

“...Why do you ask?”

“You’re in a scenario: Just answer the question.”

“It sounds like a terrible idea. You know that riftbeasts are more powerful inside their rifts; and if I went alone and encountered a powerful specimen like the leviathan, I’m not sure I’d even be able to escape. Not to mention what would happen if the rift grew unstable and collapsed...”

“What if you have no choice? What if the rift is the only thing between you and oblivion?”

“...Then I’d take the chance. I’d have to.”

It was the response he needed to hear: If Ian thought he had a chance, then Euryphel was willing to put in his lot as well.

“Besides, you wouldn’t be alone,” the prince said. “You’d have me.”

There was a pause for a moment. “Damn. Did we lose?”

Euryphel snapped out of the scenario with a heavy feeling in his gut. He sighed, then steeled his resolve, his voice cutting through the room’s uncertainty. “Ian and I will survive; we must. And when the descendant falls to earth, we’ll return and liberate the SPU. We’ll defeat the Eldemari.” He raised a fist. “We’ll prove the strength of our blood.”

“But what if you fall?” Hor’well muttered. “The Skai’aren might die either way; but you, prince, will certainly survive should you choose to stay with us and reverse your decision to abdicate. Those of us present lack the power to overrule a personal choice of the Crowned Prime, but Euryphel...think of the future you might be throwing away for nothing.”

Euryphel branched into a scenario and gave himself the freedom to grimace and hide his face in his hands, growling in frustration.

But just because he was in a scenario didn’t mean the conversation stopped.

“What would your parents say if we let you throw yourself off a metaphorical cliff?” Ezenti added, following up on Hor’well’s beseechment.

Euryphel snapped. “I’d say I can fly, you miserable son of a bitch. You say you’ve been a prime for decades, but doesn’t that mean you’ve stood by and watched while our nation ebbed into weakness?”

Euryphel knew it wasn’t productive to shout at people, but it did make him feel better. He continued to vent, sneering, “Y’jeni, we probably wouldn’t be here if any of you had intervened to save my father.”

Ko’la hissed. “Calm yourself. We obviously wished to intervene, but to interrupt the duel–”

“No,” Euryphel seethed. “Not during the duel. Before. Someone must have known of the Kestrelius’ strategy, of their intention to slay my father and seize the crowned primacy. Perhaps some of you simply looked the other way when you noticed the Kestrelius gaining power. I have no idea. But it’s a long journey to someone’s rise in this country, even if our system of duels allows people to seize power in an afternoon.”

He looked off to the side and tore off his hair ornament, throwing it at the wall. “I really hate all of you sometimes. You’re so complicit, so afraid of the future and of each other. It’s no wonder we’ve been seeing fewer and fewer powerful practitioners–it’s because we kill each other off!”

Everyone’s eyes were wide.

Shivin’i sighed. “Euryphel, are you done?”

Euryphel snorted. “Yes.”

He snapped back to the present and re-oriented himself.

Think of the future I might be throwing away for nothing...?

He tried to envision the future that everyone else apparently had no trouble imagining, one starring him at the Eldemari’s side as her consort, perhaps as her equal, but it didn’t matter.

Just thinking of it made him sick. Everyone seemed to think that being with the Eldemari was a favorable alternative to venturing into a treacherous rift, but Euryphel disagreed. He didn’t hate the Eldemari; that wasn’t the problem. Maria was strong and confident. She ruled with an iron fist but she ruled well, causing her nation to prosper. Euryphel genuinely respected her.

But being with her...Euryphel knew he’d be miserable for the same reason he knew he liked Ian.

“Thank you for your concern, everyone,” Euryphel said, his voice slightly shaking. “But my mind is made up. I’m abdicating and securing our last chance at victory. Either you help me or you leave.”

Diana began to laugh, startling everyone present. She wiped a tear of mirth from her eye and leaned over the table toward the map, making a gesture to reorient it over the Gnoste and the Jermal Trench.

“Frankly, I’m sorry I ever thought you didn’t deserve your position, Euryphel. You have balls of steel.”

Hor’well visibly choked at Diana’s unexpected word choice, but a few others in the room shared a rough chuckle.

Euryphel coughed. “Does this mean we’re moving forward?”

The remaining primes–Shivin’i, Ko’la, and Ezenti–locked eyes. Ko’la broke eye contact first and exhaled a huff of air. “Proceed.”