Act One: A Nascent King

Arc One: Overture

Étude No. 1

Headmaster Nise watched himself slumber across the reflective surface of his desk. In the heart of Westwind Academy, his office rested in darkness, the mirrors covering its floor, walls, and ceiling all dim, casting out shadows instead of light. Despite the all-encompassing black, the sleeping Headmaster could see himself and his furniture clearly. On one side of his desk, he lay slumped in the vibrant green cushions of his overly large chair. On the other side, he pushed off his seat’s gilded armrests to get a closer look at his double. If Nise hadn’t known better, he would actually think he looked at peace.

With his eyes shut gently and jaw hanging limp, the countless wrinkles of age and stress that marred his cheeks were almost faint, resembling the gentle strokes of a quill upon faded parchment. His bony hands, which constantly trembled while he was awake, lay perfectly still over his lap, and his narrow shoulders had finally relaxed, allowing his crooked back to straighten. Only his emerald silk robes with gold trimming and the lengthy curls of his white feather beard revealed the toll of his duties — the former disheveled from not being changed in days, the latter unruly and undyed in seasons. Even for Nise, it was hard to believe this frail old man could bear the weight of his entire world.

He thought of his son, Kados, the orphaned boy he’d rescued from the brink of death, then raised to become the world’s prophesied savior. Their Fated King. It felt like an eternity since he was murdered by a wraith-possessed traitor, yet in truth, a year was two days short from passing. For the fraction of humanity that survived the peaks of their grief, they were all still lost in mourning. The world could hardly hold itself together, let alone defend itself from an enemy invasion.

Since losing his son, the responsibility of Tairn’s future had become Nise’s to uphold. In the depths of his soul, he knew that for his people to triumph, he would need to replenish their faith. It was for that purpose he would spend this night preparing for his son’s replacement. A new Fated King.

“Lucid,” Nise proclaimed loudly, beckoning his fae into his Dream. As he stood on bare feet, a frail woman of shimmering white radiance blinked to life on his mirror-topped desk. Nise reached through the reflection and took her dainty hand carefully, pulling her out and helping her down onto the dark flooring. “A little light?” he asked, prompting Lucid to snap her crystalline fingers. At once, every mirror in the room burst with a pallid blue glow, evoking the tranquil eternity of a cloudless sky. “Thank you.”

His fae bowed in respect, though Nise shook his head and leaned in to hug her. Lucid wrapped around him gently, her fragile glass-like essence warm in their embrace. “Rough day?” she asked, her voice singing like crystals, knowing fully well how rough his day had been. For his entire life, Lucid had been there with him, watching over and protecting him, experiencing every moment and sharing each feeling. It was a tragedy he could only greet her like this in his Dreams. On Tairn, she was confined to reflections, while other fae naturally took corporeal forms.

“Every day is rough,” he answered, pulling away to straighten his robes and comb his beard with his untrimmed nails, grown long and curved like talons. “But we’ve got rougher days ahead of us. It’s time we get back to work.”

Nise patted his fae’s delicate shoulders and strode away, his eyes on the mirror-wall beyond his slumbering doppelganger— the real Nise, in truth, asleep in the real world. A man too busy to have experienced a genuine night's rest in years.

“We could always take the night off,” Lucid tried hopefully, sensing his thoughts. “It’s been a long while since we looked back on better memories.”

To emphasize her statement, the radiant fae waved her arm, causing the sky blue mirror-wall to fade into a panoramic view of humanity’s capitol roost, Kolod Vor. The vision magnified toward the roost’s skyline, seemingly flying over its massive skyscrapers, until it reached the tallest structure. Throne, the Fated King’s destined seat of power. The World’s Perch.

Tears formed in Nise’s eyes while the vision focused on the Throne’s rooftop orchard. More than a hundred uniformed Seers and their mystical fae mingled in the groves, on the promenade, and by the balcony, all gathered together to coronate Kados on his 16th Nameday. Nise spotted himself watching his son from the shade of a nearby seabell tree, his eyes honed proudly on the recently appointed Fated King, dressed in a regal white-and-gold military uniform. Kados’ betrothed, Agrigor, stood beside him, dressed in a matching suit of black and blue, with their arms interlinked. Behind them, a large bipedal pig in overalls, a scarecrow of mismatched bones in a dark torn cloak, and a cobalt swordstress in crystalline armor watched the two men fondly; the fae known as Sow, Reap, and Loyalty. Their own soulbound companions.

As much as Nise wanted to relive the brightest moments of his son’s life, the Headmaster of Westwind Academy had too great a duty to fulfill. “Maybe another day. Please show me the view from the Coastwatch Eyrie. Present time is fine.”

Lucid sighed, ventured to his side, then flicked the vision away with a sweep of her arm. A razor-thin blade of light crept across the mirror, pleasantly changing the scenery as it passed by. After a moment, Nise looked down at the westernmost coast of the Waistlands — the stretch of intimidating mountains and untamed jungles that covered Tir’s equator, dividing its two subcontinents from east to west. He could see where meteors had fallen upon the land from Tairn’s planetary ring, leaving craters of pallid gray ash scattered throughout the Sallow Woods, the lifeless residue glowing in the night’s silvery ringlight.

A lone, wide road known as Onali’s Trail cut northward across the forest, named after the Fourth Coast King, who had created the unrestricted passage for flocks to safely migrate. Over a tall wall that protected the western sand beaches, the Eighth Coast King’s Castle lay crumbled and abandoned, his docks smashed to pieces and brick roads stained with blood. The Pirate Lord, an immortal sorcerer who had ascended to the Name of Sin, had massacred Nalus and his servants at the start of this very season, yet like the death of Nise’s son, the catastrophe felt like an eternity ago. These days, Sin was among the least of humanity’s problems.

The Fated King would deal with him later, as was prophesied by the ancient fae Herald in his Divine Decree. Before then, Westwind Academy’s Headmaster would need to cultivate the mythology of humanity’s new chosen hero. To be recognized by the world, his son’s replacement would need to demonstrate the Six Signs. Only then could the Fated King begin conquering their Seven Trials.

“Show me the meteor,” Nise croaked grimly. “Just two days left until Enday. So many pieces to move, and so little time.”

“Have faith in Fate’s intentions,” insisted Lucid, draping a hand over his shoulder, comforting him with her touch. “She led us to Kon’s child for a reason, Sun Remember his Soul. Kinjra will succeed in honoring his legacy. His legacy and your son’s both.”

Nise internalized his partner’s reassurances, simply breathing and watching as time hastened on the mirror, the dark sky bleeding with fiery light above the sea to the west. Tairn's Sun, the source of all life and the Father of Humanity, swiftly reached His peak within the azure sky, casting light on two flocks rushing to meet in the center of Onali’s Trail. Kon's flock, the Pale Hawks, with their egg-shaped nests pulled on wheels by tamed steers, and an unnamed group of survivors from the decaying roost-state, Lidkha, who rode northward on camelback, each carrying multiple sacks that held their remaining belongings and tents.

Between the halting flocks, the Vice Commander of the Coastwatch Eyrie — a middle-aged priest and ex-thug named Levatis — was standing atop his massive white destrier. A trailer was hitched to the back of its saddle, dragging an even bigger cage with dense bars marred by dents and scars. Within, the Vice Commander’s fae, Feral, loomed on her muscular haunches, an immense behemoth that bellowed a growl of vicious anger, stirring the local fauna into a panicked frenzy. That was Levatis’ way of alerting ordinary people of danger. Only young children and Fate’s chosen Seers were able to perceive humanity’s magical companions, while all manners of creatures could sense them. Birds, steers, and camels included. Several nests almost toppled in the chaos.

“Is Levatis awake?” the Headmaster asked, though he was certain he knew the answer.

“His chamber mirror has been covered with a heavy blanket. I suspect he fell asleep before dusk.”

“Of course he did,” the Headmaster sighed. Levatis was less than half Nise’s age and incredibly fit in comparison, yet slept three times more than his elder. If the rest of Levatis’ time wasn’t spent training his subordinates to exhaustion and leading relentless charges on humanity’s enemies, he might have the mental energy to realize how Feral’s growl would aggravate the flocks’ beasts of burden. Nise hated that he needed to micromanage this much, but there was no other option. Not with the very Fate of their world at stake.

“Contact Commander Sap,” the Headmaster began instructing, “and show me who Levatis plans to bring with him.”

Lucid nodded, stepping back and raising both hands to snap her radiant fingers. Nise backed away from his view of Onali’s Trail and turned. The mirror on his office’s right wall twisted with shadowy tendrils, while the left wall shone with three living portraits, depicting a group of young Seers and their fae. Knowing that Commander Sap would take several minutes to answer Lucid’s scrying, Nise moved toward Levatis’ subordinates instead.

One of Headmaster Nise’s former students, the wingfolk giantess Ora, stood on the far left, towering above her fellow Seers in a full-body suit of dark pink berserker armor. On one side of her, a club the size of a hefty tree rested in the grasp of her exceptionally long arms, which qualified as weapons on their own with their great reach and stud-knuckled gauntlets. On her other side, Ora’s fae, Glutton, towered even higher, a rotund giant composed of moist flesh and muscles that resembled the texture of a tongue, naked save for the ripped pants that barely fit around his bulbous waist. Glutton didn’t need a weapon, considering he could ‘eat’ anything he touched and contain it within his spiritual domain, though he did carry a variety of them inside him.

Nise could see why Levatis found the pair useful for his mission. Glutton had already proven himself capable of temporarily imprisoning wraiths, though the process hurt the fae considerably, and could be potentially fatal if the wraith was powerful enough. Ora, on the other hand, was an intimidating figure who, from his experience, inspired more fear than safety. Even so, he could not risk losing her or Glutton. The giantess would be more useful observing from the Eyrie with the emergency reinforcements. Ora and Glutton worked best with Lili and Leach anyway, who were often too volatile for public appearances.

“Replace Ora with Edos. He and Nightowl helped the Pale Hawks when the last meteor fell near them, and he was the one that delivered the news of Kon’s death. I’m certain that will dredge up some complex and difficult feelings, but the comfort of a familiar face should prove worthy of the price.”

Lucid chimed her agreement and obeyed. In seconds, Ora and Glutton were gone with Edos and Nightowl in their place. A lithe nineteen-year-old boy with pale skin and sable hair floated in the air, clutched in the talons of a great, violet-feathered bird with huge, matching, glowing eyes and a hooked beak of deep black. His matte leather armor mimicked her appearance, decorated with glinting plumes and metal plates that were painted a dim purple. Even while held by his shoulders and flying at high altitudes and speeds, Edos’ magic enhanced vision and precision allowed him to load and fire dozens of arrows from his bow in seconds, each one striking its intended target with ease.

“That’s much better,” he said, moving onto Levatis’ second choice: a slight eighteen-year-old girl named Hearth, wearing an orange-red sundress and leggings with patterns of fire and explosions stitched in shiny fabric. Despite the name her adoptive parents had given her — and the name she gave her fae, Incendiary; the blazing grimoire cradled in her arms — Hearth was the very opposite of warm. She was calm, cold, and calculating, a self-proclaimed functioning sociopath that had no moral compass, only a desire to continue living comfortably and well-entertained, which just so happened to be easiest by obeying laws and serving Fate.

As the most recent graduate of Westwind Academy, Headmaster Nise knew how powerful Hearth and Incendiary were. He also knew they were a bad influence on the people around them, as evidenced by her punitive transfer from Southsea Academy. The pair wouldn’t mix well with a panicking flock, let alone two, yet there weren’t many better options. Commander Sap and the Coastwatch Eyrie were known for taking in problematic Seers and reforming them with intense training and strict regulations. The fact they hadn’t been deployed to a more critical location already meant they were barely prepared for a mission so important.

“Might I suggest Lotto?” asked Lucid, sensing Nise’s thoughts. “He’s mostly harmless, unless you’re worried about him corrupting the flockfolk youth by forming an underground gambling ring in their encampments.”

Nise smiled, taking a moment to consider if Lotto could really pull that off in such a short time. “He’s probably the best choice we have. Lotto is from Vaska Toma, and the northbound flock is entirely made of refugees from Lidkha, so it should be easy for him to relate and assuage their concerns. Though not objectively strong, Ante’s magic could also be exceptionally useful in a pinch. Lotto will need to understand that his sole focus should be on minimizing casualties, however. I don’t want anyone else dying that doesn’t have to,” Nise finished grimly, looking over to his companion. It was terrible enough that anyone needed to die at all.

Before the regret could sink in, Lucid raised a hand meekly, switching Hearth with Lotto on the wall. In an instant, an eighteen-year-old boy dressed in dark slacks, a fishnet shirt, and leather jacket appeared. His skin was a natural dark tan, almost bronze from sunbathing, and his feathery white hair was puffed up and slicked back into a coif. Sunglasses loosely sat on his beak-like nose, obscuring his eyes while doing nothing to hide the sharp grin across his face. Unlike the other reflections, Lotto actually moved, flipping a colorful disk — his fae, Ante — in the air and catching her in his fingerless-gloved hands. Hopefully the pair would do their job.

Nise moved on, stepping up to Levatis’ third choice: Nul, a former masked vigilante from the outskirts of Kolod Vor, who had used her fae, Elude, to avoid Fate’s call for years. Even after she’d been captured by Agrigor and recruited into humanity’s army by Loyalty, the lean, young woman of unspecified age refused to show her face, covering it with a featureless steel mask, its eyes fitted with dark blue lenses. Only the back of her shaved head was visible, the rest of her body adorned in an aerodynamic, undecorated uniform of a synthetic gray cloth. Elude surrounded his Seer like an aura, outlining her with a watery light distortion. On command, Nul's fae could make her inhumanly swift and flexible, more like fluid than flesh, to avoid strikes and evade Sight.

Despite her questionable history, Nul had proven herself trustworthy since meeting the Fated King in person. Regent Ferona and her fae Justice would have executed Nul on the spot, but Kados had stopped the proceeding before it started and saved her life. Nise’s son had listened to her issues and sought a peaceful way for them to further her cause, and in return, she had been pardoned of past crimes and allowed to skip academy training to join the Seers of the Coastwatch Eyrie. Even after the Fated King’s death, Nul stayed true to her word, remaining with the Seers instead of running away. Kados had given Nul and her community the justice they deserved, and she was determined to return the favor. In two days, that would mean protecting humanity’s new Fated King.

“I’ve gone ahead and observed the outcomes with other combinations,” Lucid began, answering Nise’s unasked question, “and this appears to be the most optimal. A bit risky toward the end, given their lack of collective firepower, but the emergency reinforcements should arrive quick enough to keep the situation from getting out of hand. That is, barring any unforeseen circumstances, such as enemy interference.”

“We just have to hope this mission is covert enough for the Apostles to be unaware of its importance. If we’re lucky, Elude and Ante will have a part in that.”

Lucid quickly nodded her agreement, then spun and strode toward the mirror of writhing shadows. “Commander Sap has finally answered. Would you like me to reveal her now?”

Nise sighed and walked languidly to Lucid’s side, leaving his three chosen Seers and their fae behind. His companion had foreseen the exact amount of time it would take for Commander Sap to finish her prior engagements, yet he still found himself angry and disappointed in her response time. The once-tireless mistress had changed when the Fated King died. Though still prone to lashing out in anger, she was more violent than before, yet at the same time, more reluctant to act. Sap’s confidence in a peaceful future had been shaken, and with it, her fae — Presence, a three-dimensional silhouette of darkness — had suffered for it, shrinking from the size of a skyscraper to a small hill. Nise prayed the new Fated King would reignite the spark of life in his old friend, but for now, Vice Commander Levatis would suffice in keeping the Coastwatch Eyrie from descending into chaos.

Nise smoothed the front of his silk robes and straightened, then began to comb his beard absently with his fingers. “Go ahead,” he ordered, causing the writhing shadows to fall like a curtain, unveiling Commander Saps’ dimly lit tower chamber. Before her tall vanity mirror, the mistress sat on her onyx throne cross-legged, her bony white hands folded over her lap. Instead of her usual shiny-black leathers, Sap was draped in dark, flowing robes that seemed to blend with the inky figure standing above her. Six candelabras with seven lit candles were the only source of illumination in the wide, circular room, casting multiple shadows of a shirtless manservant dancing on the wall. Over the Commander’s shoulder, Nise could see one of the manservant’s shadows risen and dancing with him, brought to life by Presence’s magic.

“Nise,” the seventy-year-old woman practically spat with her wrinkled snarl. “To what do I owe the honor of this late night visit?”

“Fate,” Nise answered curtly, careful not to betray his weariness. “It’s good to see you looking so well, Sap. All things considered, I mean.”

Commander Sap leaned in closer, emphasizing the shadows of her skull underneath her pallid skin, and rolled her eyes. “Let’s get on with it, then,” she barked. “What are Her orders?”

“For you?” Nise asked, breathing deeply to suppress the urge of rolling his own eyes. “To continue doing what you are now. Presence would solve the problem too easily, so you’re better off sitting this one out. Lucid has determined our best chance of success will require Vice Commander Levatis to bring Edos, Lotto, and Nul along to watch over the flocks. Explain to him Ora and Hearth will be more useful with the reinforcements, and if he still takes issue, let him know to contact me immediately so we can talk it out.”

“Understood,” the Commander intoned, briefly glancing at the man dancing with his shadow. “Is that all?”

Despite himself, the Headmaster sighed. Fortunately, Lucid stepped into her view and answered for him. “Please inform Levatis to use Feral’s scream lightly. If they stir the flock’s pack animals into a frenzy, there’s a good chance of property damage and minor injuries.” Nise relented a nod as she finished, boring into Sap’s pitch black eyes for a hint of his old friend.

“Very well,” she yawned. “Anything else?”

Headmaster Nise shook his head. “Have a good night and get some rest. I’ll be expecting frequent reports throughout the next two days. Even if you’re not on the battlefield, it’s important for your subordinates to know information is coming and going through you. Especially with Vice Commander Levatis gone. Can you handle that?”

A hot flash of anger lit up Sap’s face, then disappeared just as quickly. The Commander of the Coastwatch Eyrie leaned back into her onyx throne, everything but the whites of her eyes vanishing among the lingering darkness. A year ago, a challenge that direct would inspire Sap into a tirade. Two day away from the Fated King’s first anniversary of death, Sap clenched her skeletal fists and cracked her malformed knuckles, uttered the word “Fine,” then drenched her mirror in shadow without so much as a goodbye.

Though he anticipated a reaction like that, Nise had hoped for better. For a moment, he blinked at the dark mirror in a daze, his mind blindly floundering for a solution. Sap wasn’t the only person in the world falling apart at the seams. If he couldn’t restore the faith in a close friend, how could he possibly expect to restore the faith of humanity? Tairn would need the entire strength of its people to triumph over the wraiths in their insidious war. Especially Seers with fae as powerful as Presence.

“Nise?” Lucid interrupted, shattering his sullen musings. “Wilm and Ashet are attempting to reach us. Would you like me to display them here?”

Nise thanked her wordlessly and waved her over to the wall behind his desk, which currently showed the panoramic view of Onali’s Trail. Since leaving it behind, time continued to pass through a night and another day, stopping at dusk the next day, when a lifeless-gray meteor began its screaming descent. “Split the Western Wall down the middle, and show them the Sallow Wood’s layout as well.” Though Lucid didn’t have eyes, Nise could sense her blinking at him in exasperation. “Please,” he added quickly, still using the same breath.

Grinning, his fae lifted a hand daintily, then made a gesture like she was cutting the mirror down its middle with a knife. Half of the image was carved away and replaced with another reflection of a muscular man in training fatigues, his long orange hair pulled back into a tight braid. Wilm’s fae, a living statue named Rugged, stood rigidly beside him, wearing nothing but a brown loincloth around his waist. They practically looked like twins carved from the same boulder, right down to the braid-shaped rock that ran down Rugged’s scalp, nape, and back, painted the same hue of orange as Wilm’s hair— or Wilm’s left arm, which had been lost while protecting the Fated King and replaced with marble that was shaped and enchanted by Rugged’s magic.

Together, the pair rushed to salute Nise the moment he appeared in their mirror. “Sir!” they exclaimed, the fae’s voice especially deep and rumbling. It did little to hide the sounds of Ashet washing dishes in the background, which explained Wilm's guilty half-smile. Most of his teeth were missing and replaced with polished marble pebbles.

Headmaster Nise let them hold the salute for a long moment, one arm folded behind their lower backs, the other hand pointing and placing two fingertips against their foreheads. He waited until Wilm began sweating before dismissing them with a lazy gesture. “Good evening, gentleman. What do the Marble Knights have to report?”

“Nothing new or unusual to report on the western coast. Ashet and Outlook have tracked Sin as far as they could, and have determined his ship is sailing for the Southern Talons. We unfortunately lost them when they climbed too high of an altitude, but we don’t expect Sin to pillage another settlement for weeks. After the hell we put his crew through, he’ll need to spend more time recruiting than stealing and killing, which means landing ashore and potentially being spotted. Outlook has suggested informing the Tidewallow Eyrie to be on the lookout.”

“I’ll pass word to Commander Barbas now,” Lucid chimed in.

“Contact Lady Jred too,” whispered Nise, his ‘please’ implied by his soft tone. “Lord Anant would want to know, if he were still cognizant.” The parents of Kon’s wife, though he never met them.

Lucid nodded, walked into another mirror, then vanished in an explosive kaleidoscope of color. His fae could handle that on her own. In the meantime, Nise needed to handle this.

“Wilm,” he began, meeting the nineteen-year-old Knight’s sunrise-orange eyes. “Rugged,” he continued, staring at the immovable carvings on the statue’s jagged face. “I trust I don’t need to stress how important this next mission of yours is, yes?”

Both Seer and fae shook their heads slowly, stopped and looked at each other for guidance, then shrugged and nodded eagerly. “We understand,” said Wilm. “Kon’s kid will be safe with us. We’ll teach them everything we know, and everything he taught us. We’ll make his memory proud.”

“Good,” Nise exclaimed, unsure how to express how grateful that made him feel. Wilm was one of the best students he’d ever had the pleasure of teaching. There wasn’t a better Seer alive to mentor and train humanity’s new Fated King. With the help of Rugged, they would play a large part in forging Kon’s child into a true hero. Someone noble, strong, just, determined, and courageous. A warrior capable of leading humanity into battle against the wraiths and defeating them, once and for all.

Even so… Kon would have been better. Anyone and everyone who knew him would have preferred that he was still around.

Kon and Kados both, Nise thought bitterly. Too many good people had died by Sibyl’s hand, and other wraiths like them.

Many more would die in the next three years.

Countless more would die when the War truly began.

Ashet cleared his throat in the background, prompting Wilm and Rugged to step back from their mirror. “Good evening, Headmaster,” the twenty-two-year-old Lighthouse Keeper began, his voice smooth, even when soft-spoken and slightly shaken. Long curls of blonde hair tumbled around his olive-toned face, framing his puffy cheeks and bright white eyes. His irises shined like Outlook’s light — his fae, a fully-limbed, walking lighthouse — which shone down on him from the glass dome above their room. They were inside Outlook now, while Wilm’s Marble Squires were camped outside, around the lighthouses’ feet. Though people without Fate’s Sight couldn’t perceive the fae, they could feel their effects on the world, and Outlook’s steps were known to shake mountains. “You seem to look better,” Ashet continued, drying his wiry arms on his stained, yellow apron. “Have you been getting more sleep?”

“I’m sleeping now, actually,” Nise chuckled. “If I seem to look better, it’s only because you’re seeing me within my Seer Dream.”

Wilm’s jaw dropped at the revelation, though Ashet only grinned. “It seems old birds can still learn new songs,” the Lighthouse Keeper commented, chuckling to himself before his eyes suddenly darkened, his smile disappearing with it. “Kon taught me that phrase,” he admitted sadly. Wilm’s mouth shut as Rugged looked down pensively.

“Sun Remember his Soul,” Nise prayed aloud, clearing his mind to embrace the respectful silence. He could sense Lucid return to his Dream and rejoin his side quietly, though no one opened their eyes or talked for seven seconds. When they were finished and greetings were exchanged, Nise pointed to a small grove in the Sallow Woods. “Can you see this?” he asked, aware that Lucid was showing and highlighting the area on their mirror in green.

“We can,” answered Ashet. “Is that where the meteor is going to fall?”

Lucid took the lead from there. “Not exactly. It should land approximately two klicks north and three klicks west of Rose’s Grove.”

Wilm leaned in and raised an eyebrow, locating the drop site before Lucid cast it a deep shade of red. “That’s awfully close to a cluster of craters. Is that a coincidence?” he asked.

“Nothing is a coincidence,” replied Nise. “There are signs of meteors being attracted to specific locations, though we’ve yet to determine why or how.”

“Thank Fate they can’t get further than the equator,” Rugged grumbled.

Wilm punched his fae across the room, the orange veins of his brown marble fist glowing, then yelled at the statue to find some wood to knock on. Nise suspected the task wouldn’t be easy at the top of a stone lighthouse. Lucid mentally remarked on how that was likely the point.

“So where do you need us?” the Marble Knight exclaimed, his enchanted fist still clenched and glowing. Like a good soldier, Wilm was always eager to hear his next orders.

“Rose’s Grove, I presume?” Ashet inquired. His pupils shined a spotlight on the image, revealing the shadows of thorned vines surging and writhing from the earth, and the silhouettes of six children bearing witness to its explosive growth.

Nise shook his head. “That’s where Kon’s child needs to be when the meteor falls. In order for the children to get there, you cannot be seen in the vicinity, else they’ll all turn away.”

“What is that?” asked Wilm, pointing to the shadowy vines.

“You mean who,” Ashet corrected. “Rose,” he tested.

“A very old fae,” explained Lucid. “A spirit, technically, though something kept her from properly ascending. Until this day, at least.”

Ashet frowned and leaned in to look closer, then dimmed his eyes. When the shadows of Rose’s vines faded, two faint glimmers of color shone in the grove’s heart. “Silver and gold,” he stuttered. “You finally found her,” he proclaimed.

Wilm startled, blinked, then bared his teeth. “Kon’s fae is there?”

“There and being fed on,” Ashet clarified. “How long have you known this? Why haven’t you sent anyone to save her?”

Headmaster Nise sighed, squaring his shoulders and reinforcing his voice. “I would have if I could. This is the way Fate intends. Our Fated King must claim their second fae on their own. Only then can they face the wraith.”

“So what?” scoffed Wilm. “We’re supposed to hide out nearby to greet the surviving children?”

“Rose won’t be able to harm anyone,” Lucid assured him. “Not if the children make it before the meteor falls, at least. Once she realizes it will crash nearby, she’ll begin to rush her ascension.”

“And no,” the Headmaster continued, his voice as firm as his gaze. “You’ll be hiding nearby the predicted zone of impact.”

“Keep a mirror close,” Lucid informed them sharply. “I’ll contact you directly when it’s time to show yourselves.”

Neither Ashet nor Wilm looked happy about the arrangement, but Fate was Fate, and orders were orders.

“It’s getting late. Rest well tonight and tomorrow. Keep rigorous training to a minimum, and send your Squires to the Coastwatch Eyrie the moment you’re near.”

“Yes, Sir!” barked Wilm, saluting promptly. Ashet mimicked the gesture more lazily.

“Sleep well, you two,” Lucid teased, waving the scrying away— leaving them in utter silence. His fae’s head and shoulders drooped, mirroring his own failing posture. Just as she knew all of his thoughts and feelings, Nise knew all of hers. Ashet had known that something was amiss, and now they were questioning everything they’d ever known. Both of them knew how much Kon had loved his wife, and how much his loss had hurt their child. Knowing what Fate was asking them to arrange crushed their very souls with a deep and profound regret.

Unfortunately, Herald’s Prophecy gave them no other choice. ‘Orphaned by War’ was one of the Fated King’s most talked-of Signs. After all, everyone with a heart adored a hero with a heartbreaking origin. Having the strength and will to triumph in spite of a tragic history… that was what inspired hope in humanity the most.

We’re doing the right thing, Nise thought.

No matter how many times he told himself that, Lucid could sense he wasn’t convinced. Like always, she comforted him by placing a warm hand on his shoulder, persuading him to lift his head and stand straight. “All the pieces have been moved,” she told him confidently, willing the reflection of the meteor fall to proceed forward in time. “Would you like to see how it ends, so that we know we have nothing to fear?”

Headmaster Nise considered it. Then, with a sad grin on his face, he spun away from the mirror and strode for his desk. “No,” he began out loud, slumping into his upholstered chair to reoccupy his unconscious body. I would rather see Fate’s work unfold with my own eyes, he thought, stirring and yawning in his seat as the darkness settled around him, his mind finally succumbing to the weariness he fought so long to suppress. For now, we can take a break to relive Kados’ Coronation. All this planning and scrying had exhausted them both, and he didn’t need to see the future to foresee the many sleepless nights awaiting him in the weeks ahead.

The last thing Nise heard before his mind slipped away was Lucid singing a bright lullaby, elated to oblige his fantasy.

A reality where his son was still alive.

A time when the Fated King's father hadn't yet failed him.