1

Night fell and Isa’s house appeared even more quiet and spacious than before. The bathroom turned out to have been unoccupied. As the hours passed by and the head count in the house remained consistently less than what it should have been, those left behind were starting to turn anxious.

“Where did that fool of a sister go this time?” Alexander de Guillon scratched his head, pacing back and forth in the living room, constantly peering out of the windows. “Why can’t she ever keep still?”

“You mean to say, you didn’t notice?” Isa gave him an amused look over the kitchen table.

“Notice what?” the youth asked with a blank look.

“Your sister hiding in the cart before they departed?”

“What the—” Alexander gasped. Then, he sank in a nearby chair, clutching his head. “That idiot! What is she doing...!?”

“What should we do?” Stefan asked. “You want to chase after them?”

“You don’t happen to have horses, do you?” Alexander asked Isa, considering the option.

“No, not a single one,” the emiri lightly replied, ruining his hopes.

“Damn it,” Alexander groaned. “They have hours on us, we’d never catch up on foot. We don’t even know which way they’re headed. Aah, this is even worse than back when she tried to run off with the circus!”

“That actually happened?” Stefan asked, eyes rounded.

“It did. When she was seven. The clown brought her back, and father gave me one heck of a whipping for not looking after her better. Even though she’s supposed to be the older one of us. Oh! Why does this keep happening to me…!?”

“Speaking of which,” Isa interrupt his lamentation. “What do you suppose will happen to you next?”

“What do you mean?”

“Think Caalan will save you? Take you out the same away as you came? Or were you planning on staying for good? Probably your best option, that. I don’t see them letting you leave any day soon—not alive, that is. You’ve seen the Palace, and the way to the island.”

“We’re getting out of here, isn’t that a given?” the young knight answered Isa. “And I'm sure not counting on the sorceress to deliver us. We’re on our own, as much has been clear from the start.”

“But, what can we do on our own?” Stefan asked. “Are you still thinking about stealing ourselves a boat?”

“I guess?" Alexander shrugged. "I don’t see any other way. No way we’re getting past the checkpoints on land.”

“Are you serious now?” Isa interjected. “You’d sail over the channel?”

“Why? How else?” the youth blankly asked.

The elven woman snorted.

“Let me spare you the effort, kid; there’s not one darned boat on this island. Unless you carve up one of your own.”

“What?” Alexander frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

“I meant what I said?”

“Then how did you people get in here? How do you go fishing? How did you build the bridge? How stupid do you think I am?”

Isa closed her eyes, with the look of a saint silently enduring great pains as she answered,

“Imagine the stupidest thing you can, then ten times that, and you’re getting close.”

“Look, if you’ve got a better idea, why not share?” Alexander demanded. “You want us out of your house and we want out of your land. I’d say we both get what we want if you work with us a little.”

“And when you get caught, they’ll want to know who helped you,” Isa replied. “That doesn’t seem like such a clever deal to me. You’re right that I’d rather see you gone, but it’s not going to happen so long as you have no idea how this place works.”

“So tell us.”

“No,” the emiri replied outright.

“Why?” he exclaimed.

“Because it’s a pain,” Isa told him. “And none of my business.”

“Argh, this why elves are…!”

“Take it easy, Alex,” Stefan calmed him. “We can’t leave without your sister in any event, so there’s no choice but to put the escape plan on hold ‘til they come back.”

“Provided they do come back!” Alexander sighed, raising his chin to stare at the ceiling. “The lady told me to be a hero...What a tall order. I’ve never done a single heroic thing in all my life. I only ever followed in my idiot sister’s footsteps, to try and keep her from screwing up everything. And that’s a full-day job, I tell you.”

“It wasn’t always so bad, was it?” the older knight said. “If you ask me, every day back in Ludgwert was a ton of fun. And I’d like to believe we’ll still get back there some day.”

“Some day,” Alexander mouthed. Then, he started to chuckle. “Ha, it’s been so long, I already forgot why we even left! We people really are miserable creatures, aren’t we? On that point at least, I can agree with our benevolent hosts.”

“Huh?” Stefan furrowed his brows, unable to understand the youth’s thoughts.

“You know what?” Alexander continued. “Since we’ve got time in our hands, why don’t we be heroes for real?”

“What?”

“We’re going to go home, all of us,” Alexander got up from his chair and announced with a resolute note. “But before that, let’s find out what the elves did to our people.”

“Are you all right, son?” Stefan asked him, growing uneasy. “It was that shady business that put us in this mess in the first place. Let’s not get carried away now, aye? Nothing good can come out of it.”

“What are you on about?” Isa asked, confused by the conversation.

In the lack of better things to do, Alexander summarized to the elven lady the story about the Alderians' trade with the villages of Ludgwert, the villagers going missing, as well as the knights’ quest to find out what had become of them. Isa listened to the tale in silence, her expression growing darker.

“Are you sure it was our people who took them?” she asked, after the knights had concluded.

“The elves had asked to take people with them,” Alexander replied with a shrug. “And after they were refused, the kidnappings began. There were clear tracks to follow too, in cases where multiple people were taken, which our knights followed until the limits of the marsh. That doesn’t leave a lot of suspects.”

“Moreover, Lady Carmelia told us not to look into this, saying it was too dangerous,” Stefan added. “I’d say that pretty much seals the deal.”

“I’ve heard of no such things, nor seen any humans on the island,” Isa said. “If your claim is true, then where were the humans taken? What was done with them?”

“That’s what we’re here to find out,” Alexander replied. "Or were."

“I can’t believe his majesty would give such orders,” the emiri pondered. “Quaran may have his shortcomings, but he’s a man of peace, deep down. He has strictly veto’d every proposal to colonize human territories to date. It would make no sense for him to act against his own policies.”

“Well, the witch lady seems to think there’s a rival faction,” Alexander said. “A group that’s working against the King’s will. They tried to kill one of ours the other day. Maybe they’re the ones behind the kidnappings too?”

“Caalan thinks that?” Isa murmured. “Sure, there's been lingering dissonance ever since the Divide, and it has only grown more vocal as of late. But to think that the opposition would go as far as to attack human settlements behind the King’s back? I find that a little too hard to believe. What could they possibly gain for doing so?”

“I don’t know,” Alexander shrugged. “But the sorceress said that our presence on the island is a problem for this group. I think I’m starting to see why. They don’t want the others to start asking why we’re here. If the King is indeed oblivious, then keeping him that way would be in their best interests.”

“Right, that makes sense,” Stefan nodded.

“Nonsense,” Isa shook her head. “It is a great risk this hypothetical faction is taking, for such ambiguous gain. If the conspirators were found out, they would be sure to get banned from the island. And nobody wants to further divide our already diminished community. It’s illogical.”

“Not really, if the rebels think that whatever profit they get outweighs the risks,” Alexander suggested. “Or maybe they're confident the King won't punish them, even if the plot is uncovered? Maybe he can't?”

Stefan twisted his face, unnerved. “You don’t mean to say, they’re going to kill the King?”

“The kingdom will remain united if they seize all power," the youth replied. "Wouldn't that be tempting?”

“All I hear from you is a lot of wild speculation,” Isa told the two of them. “Though I can’t really say one way or the other. I haven’t been following politics in ages. But on the off-chance that you’re right, it doesn’t bode well for you humans.”

“Why’s that?” Stefan frowned.

Alexander didn’t miss what Isa was implying.

“The villages were only practice,” the young knight deduced. “If the opposition seizes power, they won’t have to hide anymore. They can move on to enslave mankind.”

“Can they do that?” the older knight asked, stunned. “I mean, the elves look tough, sure, but there are only a few of them left, and kind of a lot of us out there...”

“It wouldn’t be a problem of numbers,” Isa told him. “In case you failed to notice, there’s a rather wide gap in both magical and technological prowess. Before our fleet, the Sihlruén, your armies mean nothing.”

“We—we should probably warn the King then?” Stefan suggested. “Before the villains make their move.”

“If only we knew how,” Alexander said. “Even provided that he agrees to receive us, do we have any way to make him believe what we say? We have no proof of any of this.”

“I don’t know how to contact Caalan either,” Isa said. “Either we wait until she comes back, or...”

The woman fell silent, as if unwilling to say what was on her mind.

“...Or what?” Alexander urged her.

Looking back up at him, Isa answered,

“I do know one person who used to hold great sway at the Court, and probably has a better grasp of the situation than I do. And, by prior experience, he doesn’t seem too reluctant to deal with you humans either.”

“You don’t mean...” Alexander had an unpleasant feeling. Isa immediately confirmed his guess as correct. With a stern look, as if to tell the young man to stake his life for the answer, she said,

“You should go see the Sage.”

2

If Izumi hadn’t been too enthusiastic to meet the master arcanist, Alexander and Stefan were more than twice so. Early the following morning, while the nightly mist still hung thick over the blueberry shrubs on the forest floor, the two retraced the footsteps of the summoned champion from the day before. Climbing up the hill, through the grove beyond the last houses of the city, they soon had Erekhigan’s imposing villa in their sights.

The view alone made Stefan’s courage falter.

“You know, maybe we shouldn’t have come...”

“I told you to stay at the house, didn’t I?” Alexander reminded him with a sigh.

“I couldn’t let you come out here by yourself!” the older man exclaimed. “It’s dangerous.”

“No, you wanted to hide together. There’s a difference.”

“I wouldn’t say that!”

“Come now,” Alexander tried to encourage him. “What’s our motto?”

“’Live free and die young’?” the knight suggested.

“No, not that! The House one.”

“’For the common good’?” Stefan cited.

“Precisely,” Alexander patted his brother-in-arms on the shoulder. “So let’s go.”

However, Stefan still made no move to follow.

“You know, maybe I’ll just wait here?” he suggested. “I mean, keep watch. Someone could come, one of us should stay behind to warn the other.”

“How will you warn me if you’re down here and I’m in the house?” Alexander asked.

“I’ll run to you, of course,” Stefan assured. “I will, as fast as I can.”

“You’ll run into the house you’re too scared to come within a hundred yards of?”

“I can do it, if I have to. But right now, I don’t have to. So I prefer to stay behind.”

“Have it your way then!” Tired of arguing, Alexander continued to hike up the hill.

“Look, I’ll—I’ll ask the bard to make up a song for you,” Stefan called after him. “A real nice one.”

“For crying out loud, I’m not going to die!” the young man shouted back, before giving the gloomy building another look. “...I hope.”

Pausing before the entrance, Alexander took a moment to muster his courage. He briefly considered looking for some other way to get into the building, but soon abandoned the idea. He was here on an honest business, after all, and getting caught breaking in wouldn’t help his cause. If the odd Imperial woman had survived meeting the Sage in one piece, then his chances couldn’t be much worse.

In his pocket, Alexander had a gift from Isa, a gesture of good will to the Sage, in a small pouch. He didn’t know what it was, but counting on it to turn the reception favorable, the young man ultimately made up his mind and approached the doorway.

Well before he could lay his hands on the doorknob, the way opened on its own.

“I’ll never get used to these magic tricks...” Alexander commented and nervously entered the shady building.

He was halfway through the vestibule, when he heard the front door close behind him, leaving him trapped in the strange, dimly lit hall. If only he had his sword, he could have felt slightly more courageous. But he was unarmed, not even wearing his armor, and could only proceed feeling no different from being entirely naked.

Alexander soon forgot his unease, however, when a strange sound reached his ears.

It was music.

The youth strained his ears and found that it was not an illusion. Somewhere in the house, a peculiar melody was playing. Looking for the source, he stepped on into the long main hall, and a scene both eerie and enchanting appeared before the young man’s eyes.

There was a round table in the middle of the floor, and upon that table was a curious apparition.

On a small brass pedestal posed two figures of the same metal, a male and a female, locked in a dance. Around and around the figures went, holding one another, moved by a quietly whirring machine presumably hidden within the pedestal, while a gentle tone played. The gadget on the table was the only clearly lit object in the hall, though the source of the light itself could not be seen.

“What in the…?” Alexander approached the machine, looking at it from every angle.

——“Do you like music, boy?” a voice suddenly spoke nearby.

Alexander spun around and saw a tall, older man leaning on a wall on the right, a friendly smile on his face.

“You’re the one they call Sage?” Alexander asked.

Without answering, Erekhigan stepped closer.

“Long ago," he said, "Anatlea, the God of Sound, taught music to our kind. Not even I was there to see it happen, but so I’ve heard. Even today, when we emiri pick up our instruments and raise our voices to a song, it is not merely out of a desire for pleasant noise, but also to recall the heavenly gift we were given back when years were not yet counted. An effort to reproduce but a sliver of the beauty of the Golden Age, which is now forever lost to us. The longing for unity with the divine is what defines our culture, and it has stayed with us for over thirty cycles. Can you imagine that, young man?”

“I prefer cheerier tones myself,” Alexander cautiously answered, backing up. “Your music feels kind of heavy to me.”

“Truly,” Erekhigan nodded. “There was a great debate among our master symphonists once. On if music should only adhere to the traditional, divinely inspired sound selection, or if we should be allowed to mix notes to create entirely new melodies. Lives were lost in that dispute. ‘Heavy’ is the word. Every once in a while, I would also like to hear something simpler and less...refined. Tunes that remind of the youth long gone, of the innocence, as well as blissful ignorance.”

“What’s there to miss, in being ignorant?”

“In much wisdom is much grief,” Erekhigan answered Alexander’s question. “And not all the problems of the— shall we say—less enlightened, are removed even with the growth of knowledge. That is simply the way it is.”

“No matter how painful,” Alexander replied, steeling his mind, “there are things I need to know. Can you answer me? I have something here for you, in exchange...”

The young knight shuffled through his pocket and produced the pouch Isa had given him. The tall elf stepped right up to him, taking the pouch into his hands without a word. Alexander restrained the urge to retreat. Instinctively, he felt as though his character was being tested, and he didn’t want to grant the strange man the pleasure of yielding.

With calm motions, Erekhigan opened the pouch, held it upside down, and let the item inside fall onto his open palm. Alexander wondered what manner of a gift that prideful woman had parted with, or if it would be enough to win Erekhigan’s favor.

But what he saw left him in dismay.

It was a small glove, made of felt.

Too small for an elf, only about the size of a child’s hand.

Alexander frowned. The item was hardly of any value, even by meager human standards. Had Isa sent it as a prank or an insult? The youth already started to think of an excuse, he didn’t know—but found that there was no need.

“I see,” Erekhigan held up the little piece of cloth, slightly narrowing his blue eyes. “Even my medicine was powerless to give those two what they wanted the most, and thereby restore their family. Ultimately, this was what drove poor Isidro to his death, not the island. The lady’s readiness to bare old wounds speaks of her conviction. Apparently, you are in a dire need of my counsel, young man. Speak then, and let us see what we can do for you.”

Unable to understand the significance of the gift, Alexander hesitated for a moment. Then, clearing his throat, he remembered his purpose and spoke,

“First, I want to know where you sent that woman. My sister’s gone with her. If anything happens to Milla, I swear, someone is going to pay.”

Erekhigan stepped unhurriedly across the hall, without immediately answering.

“You should treasure your family more, young man,” his voice carried from the shadows behind the device with the dancers. “Or perhaps it is more a problem of you treasuring it too much?”

“What are you talking about?”

“We must all let go of our dearest one day. Give them the room to grow, you see? Perhaps your sister has found her calling? Her destiny beckons her, but what about yourself? Isn’t it about time you stepped out of her shadow and discovered a purpose to call your own?”

“What do you know about me...?” Alexander lowered his tone, half insulted, half terrified.

“Listen.” Erekhigan raised his finger. “Can you hear it? What is the great spirit of life whispering to you? What is it that you truly desire, above all else? What is, for you, most important?”

Alexander listened. Not because he wanted to, but because he couldn’t avoid hearing it. The melody played by the gadget. He looked at the pair of slowly rotating figures. It was only now that he realized the shape of their simple ears. Those weren’t elves. They were unmistakably human characters. What did he want, above anything else? What was the Sage implying? No, he refused to think of it. What mattered to a knight, a hero, was his duty.

“What happened to the villagers your soldiers took from us?” he asked.

“Getting warmer,” Erekhigan replied.

“So you do know about them? The kidnappings?”

“I am not called ‘Sage’ only because I stopped counting my birthdays,” the emiri turned away and explained. “I know great many things that are hidden from others. Dangerous secrets. Including the illicit dealings our kind has had with yours. As expected, it is a topic not even one such as I may discuss in broad daylight. Fortunately, there are no others to overhear us here, in my own house. Not yet, at any rate.”

“Why?” Alexander asked. "Why did they do it?"

“As questions come, that is an excellent one. To which I can’t claim to know the answer. I am not even entirely certain who is responsible, or if they are acting with or without the blessing of the Throne. My personal, precursory investigation into the matter has left me a detested hermit, forced into ‘voluntary seclusion’, removed from the Court, and all decision-making. I, who was once an advisor to Kings Most High! That is how far our opponents’ reach has extended.”

“The group working behind the King’s back, you mean?” the human knight confirmed. “We fear they may target his majesty’s life, unless something is done.”

“Is that what you believe? That the King is innocent?”

“What?” Alexander frowned at the unexpected retort.

“His majesty is no remorseless tyrant,” Erekhigan explained. “In all his actions and decisions, Quaran has struggled to adhere to the public opinion. His quest for acceptance has made him a slave to the masses, incapable of offending their sensibilities. Therefore, if he actually desired something contradictory to the general consensus, he would have little choice but to do so in secrecy. For indeed, turning on the will of the collective is a privilege only allowed for the ruler.”

“...I’m not sure I understand.”

“I know you don’t. But you need not to worry about that. As I told you, this is only a pet theory of mine, at the moment, and there is very little proof I have to show for it. But, perhaps we can help things a little there. Together.”

“Together?” Alexander repeated.

“In your land, you are a knight, are you not?” Erekhigan asked. “And a knight’s universal duty is to pursue justice. Do you know this? It’s only when one’s duty becomes his heart’s passion that a true hero is born.”

“I don’t know about heroes,” Alexander said after a brief moment of thought. “But I can tell this much; unless we do something, your people will eventually start taking more than our villagers. You have the power to raze our towns and drive us into the sea. So I’ve been told, and I’ve no reason to doubt it, after all that I’ve seen. Why you haven’t done that already, it has to be because there are still some among you who aren’t pure evil. Such as yourself, perhaps. Therefore, I’ll have to help you stop the ones who would want a war with us. It’s the only chance that we have.”

“Well spoken,” the Sage nodded. “That is the essence of heroism, you see? Seeking something not because you were ordered to, or because you went along with someone else, or even out of a greed for rewards, fame, or recognition, but simply because you saw a necessity and selflessly chose to act. For the common good. You have a gentle heart, young man. But what can you do? Provided I’m not ‘evil’, as you succinctly put it, what makes you think I haven’t already done all in my power to keep the situation from escalating? And if that is not enough, if my wealth of knowledge and influence as a revered Elder of my kind cannot end the turmoil brewing under our colony, what makes you think you can make a difference?”

“...You’ll think of something,” the knight answered. “There are things you can do that we can’t. But there also has to be something we humans can do that you can’t. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be telling me this.”

Erekhigan paused and faced the young man.

His features suddenly brightened up and he clasped his hands together.

“Splendid!” he said. “It appears that beyond a good heart, your head isn’t half bad either. Speaking with you brings great many memories to mind, of a time when our people were not so estranged. Indeed, there are things only you can do, as you are, young man. And if you agree to help me, as that kind lady did before, we may yet be able to save our two peoples both. So can I count on this offer of aid that you’ve presented me?”

“Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it,” Alexander replied. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“Good,” Erekhigan nodded and stepped around the table. “I want you to uncover evidence of the Throne’s misconduct. One way or the other, I believe the King is not free of blame. He is nowhere near as stupid as to miss an operation of such scale happening right under his nose. But it is not a light accusation we’re making. To secure lawful support, we need decisive, undeniable proof."

“And how are we to find some?”

“Directly from the source. I know of a hidden path into the Royal Palace, which would be inaccessible to someone of our stature, but which should allow for your, say, lesser dimensions. Infiltrate the Palace using this secret passageway, and work your way to the lower underground levels. Those floors are off-limits to even high-ranking Palace officials, even to myself, which would make them nothing short of ideal for hiding any...questionable materials. Find out whatever you can, anything that might prove that the Throne is violating its own policies, and then return to me. We’ll then plan our next move based on what you've uncovered. Which would, ideally, be making public any incriminating evidence, thus allowing us to corner the villains. Do you follow?”

“Makes sense, I guess,” Alexander answered. “But how secure is this secret passage? I’m only one guy and not a master of magic or anything. If they catch me, it’ll be bad for both of us, no?”

“Indeed,” the Sage agreed. “But trust me, young man, you will not be alone in this. I will give you certain tools, which should make the quest more feasible to even one of your modest gifts. I am a master of magic, after all, and have a trick or two in my baggy sleeves.”

“I thought you might.”

“No need to get cynical. If it makes you feel better, I’ve also thought up a bit of a reward for your efforts.”

“A reward?”

“Oh yes,” Erekhigan smiled. “I’m not expecting a young soul such as yourself to be content with lofty promises of peace, fairness, and stability. How about this? You help me, and I shall help you and your associates leave Alderia. In peace, equipped, and safe from bodily harm.”

At Erekhigan’s words, Alexander felt an excited surge of hope within his heart. A way back home was finally within reach. But he hurried to suppress the emotion, trying to keep any of it from showing on his face. Following and guarding his naive sister for so long, he had learned an invaluable lesson on the merits of caution and foresight.

“Now it’s starting to sound too good,” Alexander said instead. “What do you get out of all this, anyway? You may be a wise Elder, but I can’t picture you being content with just protecting fairness and balance either. So where’s the reward for you?”

Erekhigan let out a low-tone chuckle at his words.

“Regardless of the eons that separate us, we do have a lot in common, young man. I may not be a knight, but I do consider myself a servant of justice all the same. And seeing dear justice win over treachery and vileness is my heart's earnest desire, trust me. If the Throne is behind the atrocities, then I want it to be judged the same as anyone else. Perhaps it has come time for us to set aside monarchy and seek greater equality among our people? The wisdom of a democratic rule, governance based on merit and ability, rather than nobility. That is my ultimate desire, or perhaps it would be better described as a dream? I would not particularly mind being freed from constant scrutiny either. Respect, you see? I believe I have earned it.”

Alexander made no response.

Erekhigan’s words did seem convincing and sincere, but at the same time, the persistent sense of unease wouldn’t leave him. Was it really natural for individuals so different to understand one another so readily? Was not the matter merely presented in a way that was most agreeable to him, as a human being?

Nevertheless, it was clear that both had things to gain from co-operating. If anything, antagonizing the elven sage now could come to mean ill to Millanueve de Guillon, who even now was on a perilous quest, far from home.

Therefore, Alexander swallowed his fears once more and made a resolute nod.

“Where do I start?”

3

One might imagine that living for nearly seven thousand years would shave off most earthly concerns from one’s mind. Yet, looking back, Caalan Litha Nid Vi Vaniphelia felt that the seven cycles she had witnessed were quite brief and hurried in the end, in all their eventfulness. She still had ways to go and room to grow, as life kept painfully reminding her ever so often, and she was not above surprise.

Yet, the situation before Carmelia now seemed abnormally abrupt, even after all that she had been through. Her chamber at the Royal Palace had become filled with armed knights right in the middle of an afternoon tea break. It appeared that her hosts had undergone an acute shift in their attitude towards her, and she had turned from an unwanted visitor to an enemy of the state between only daybreak and noon.

Of course, the sorceress had sensed the guards’ approach well before they reached her floor, but only one platoon of infantry and three juvenile arcanists were hardly any reason to interrupt a good cup of tea.

Indeed, it was not the presence of the armed force itself that unnerved her.

It was the fact that she hadn’t been able to foretell their coming, or immediately name its cause. Something very unexpected had to have happened, and it was better to wait and see how things would pan out.

Shortly, Jordith, the command of the Royal Guard, entered the room.

Upon his arrival, Carmelia finally set down her tea and got up from her seat.

“Your grace,” Jordith bowed his head in a forceful expression of etiquette. “I need you to come with us.”

Jordith’s voice was heavy, suggesting that the situation was indeed grave. On the other hand, it lacked direct hostility, which allowed Carmelia to slightly relax. His sword remained in its sheath. Whatever had transpired, she or the humans in her company were not held accountable, for the time being. Perhaps there was still room left to maneuver?

“Very well,” Carmelia replied. “I trust that you would not risk my ire with such forceful requests, unless there was a good reason, Jordith, son of Claim. Show the way.”

The knight gave no reply but turned immediately to leave. The sorceress and the knights followed along.

Their destination was, unsurprisingly, the Throne Room.

And the real surprise awaited within the room itself.

The King was not there. The immaculate seat that belonged to the elven monarch was vacant. There was no seat beside it. Quaran had never promoted a Queen beside him, leaving the place now completely barren of royalty. Instead, there were the two viceroys, Dalannan and Tresim, to receive the visitors.

The role of a viceroy had ever been more the management of small-scale municipal affairs, and the two scarce left their home posts outside the main city. Their ability to govern the nation in the King’s absence had never once been tested.

Dalannan was a tall, thin woman, slightly older than Carmelia—although the age difference of paltry two centuries was hardly worth mentioning. Dalannan had been a civil servant for most of her life, a governor’s secretary in northern Ivrea, and continued as a manager of public affairs even after the exodus and losing her former employer.

Tresim, meanwhile, was a younger man, only roughly four thousand years of age, and close to King Quaran’s generation. He had been a lesser noble in Stennau, the neighboring province of Elevro once, as Carmelia vaguely recalled. Where Dalannan’s role had diminished after the exodus, Tresim’s had grown, now bringing the two to equal footing as the King’s closest confidants.

Both bowed before Carmelia. Regardless of the Divide and the fact that they had never been very close, they had not forgotten the former status and glory of the daughter of the High King. Even if that was in the past and secondary to whatever was their business today.

Passing the viceroys with a quick nod, Jordith stood before the empty Throne.

“Why am I here?” Carmelia asked, as no one would tell her. “And where is his majesty?”

Jordith twisted his face, as if speaking itself were unpleasant to him.

Finally, he spat out the words.

“The King has disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” Carmelia repeated with a questioning look.

Sure enough, she hadn’t seen this development coming.

“The ptoleans as well,” Jordith continued. “All gone. Without a trace.”

“Surely you jest,” the sorceress couldn’t mask her disbelief. “Mayhap there’s something amiss with my hearing, but it sounds as if you have lost both the King and the ptoleans emissaries overnight?”

“Do not toy with me!” the kingsguard roared. “I know not how it happened! Yet happen it has!”

Certainly, he didn’t seem to be lying. Jordith was a man too simple and direct to take part in such an elaborate ruse. He was unmistakably at his wit’s end.

“Then tell me, what do you know?” Carmelia asked him. “Tell me all.”

“Nothing stood apart when I retired for a moment of rest last night. We had the ptoleans under constant surveillance, but as they made no move, his majesty ordered all the levels sealed and the emissaries left be. We didn’t want them to know if we were going to evacuate the Palace, so as to prevent them from committing pre-emptive suicide. Then, his majesty wished to be left alone. That was the last anyone saw of him. Early this morning, we discovered that the King, as well as all the six ptolean emissaries, were gone. As if they simply grew wings and flew away.”

The sorceress’s unease deepened. Calling the situation absurd would have been a major understatement.

“I hope your first thought was not to accuse me of this?” Carmelia told Jordith.

“Are you suggesting it would be wrong of me to do so?” he replied, barely preserving his composure. “Do you claim to not know where his majesty is, at this moment?”

“I do not,” Carmelia answered, quite truthfully.

“Do not lie to me!” Jordith shouted at her.” All these strange things begin as soon as you return to our land! You’ve had a hand in this, I am certain of it! So I will have you tell us right now, what is going on in our home!?”

“Calm down, commander,” Viceroy Dalannan told Jordith. “Losing temper will not help things. And I find it difficult to imagine that her grace would deliberately bring herself under suspicion by enacting such a ploy in front of us. There must be something we are not seeing here.”

“Certainly,” Viceroy Tresim said, “the blame lies with the ptoleans, no? They must have found a way around the Palace security, and are behind the King’s disappearance. Rather than wasting our time blaming her grace, we should seek to apprehend those villains. Then we shall have the answers.”

“Oh, we will have answers,” Jordith said. “Those monsters will not get away with what they’ve done. But you are correct, Viceroy Dalannan, that there is something we are not seeing here. And I am convinced her grace can tell us what it is.”

“You know my circumstances,” Carmelia told him. “And that I have been absent from Alderia for nothing short of two centuries, estranged to her ways. I see precious little I might know now that yet remains hidden to you.”

“Do not take me for a fool, sorceress!” the knight shouted. “You know us better than we know ourselves! You, who made yourself a spy and an assassin in the foreign lands, and took the mantle of a master of deception. The evil that is at work here is impossible for us to understand; yet not so much to you, its close kindred! If you claim to be free of blame, then explain to us what has transpired! Find the King! Or else, you will be the one to disappear off the face of the earth. On my honor!”

It was hardly an empty threat.

Whether possible or not, Jordith was prepared to give his life in the effort, as much was made clear by his look and tone. The viceroys shifted uncomfortably, but voiced no protests. They desired answers as much as any other. Carmelia understood their feelings only too well. In truth, being given the chance to investigate was what she most wanted, and she was eager to take it, even without threats.

“Well?” Carmelia therefore faced Jordith and inquired. “Where shall I begin?”