The crystal castle that stood above Tarha-Nan like a god above mortal men was the only truly beautiful thing about the city. The ordinary city stretching into the pit below seemed dull and dirty in the moonlight. The mansions of numerous nobles were scattered around the palace and its defenses, but they seemed too bland and practical to be called pretty or eye-grabbing. They were more like small castles than luxurious houses.

“Everyone in this damned place fears assassins and thieves, even the very men that boss them around”, mentioned Zaster as he rambled on in a kind of half-judgemental, half-witty monologue. “This simple fact led to the… questionable kind of architecture visible here, or so I’ve heard.”

Ehrir was conversing with Nalia and the undead man as the whole group (except for the master sorcerers) waited. It was their second hour here and the second since the witch and the old man went somewhere to try and get access to the palace. The remainder of the night was spent wandering around the numerous fortifications around. During this slow advance various new obstacles – usually grim-looking guards and massive, solid gates – slowed them down, in most cases by demanding the letter from Ostrias to be shown again and again. The defense of the massive crystal palace was more than stable, if anything. After each passed gate a new guard was assigned to walk with and watch over the group, and in the end the escort was as big as the travelling party itself. Half a dozen of these people – dressed in the same ordinary leather armor that the gatekeepers wore, with proud postures and scarred faces – were still lurking around the apprentices. Ehrir was sure that they were much more than they originally seemed to be. There was a vague aura about them… A sense of immense danger, of readiness to take one’s life without a second thought. Zaster already pointed out that there were strange runes covering the hilts of their swords and pauldrons. The language in which they were written was undoubtedly ancient and more chaotic than the clean, sleek alphabet that Emhaelic used.

“It's unusual for plain and simple guards to have such symbols upon their clothing… There aren’t a lot of people who can inscribe such runes, ya’ know? They probably hold magical power on top of that, too”, remarked Nalia as she stared at the armed men’s garments. Unmoving and stoic, the armed people looked like a group of statues in the gentle sunlight.

“You’re right, girl… There’s something weird going on here.” Zaster nodded sharply in agreement with Nalia’s words. Varhel just stood beside his sister’s horse in silence. He looked sleepy for the first time since Ehrir met him. “I can’t blame him for that”, thought the Undone One as he yawned and rubbed his eyes. He was dying for a good, eight-hour sleep, too.

“You guys sure look tired”, said Nidor cheerfully while approaching Ehrir and the others. He was pretty fresh and relaxed, surprisingly.

“Weren’t you playing cards with that rat guy?” Nalia asked.

“Yeah, but… The ground isn’t exactly the best place to put our cards on, nor is my damned cloak.” The branded boy looked around. The disciples were in some kind of a practicing yard, as wooden dummies and bow targets occupied big parts of it. The guards brought them here after Salelia and Sevrian went off to deal with the permission to enter. There was only one big gate here, leading to another open area, and several small doors. The whole place was plain and practical to its core, with the ground being dusty and unpaved, and the surrounding buildings - dull and lifeless. It didn’t seem like it was just a few steps away from a monarch’s residence, if anything.

Nidor fixated his gaze on the you g woman in front of him.

"Our fur-covered friend also got tired of losing to me."

“Those are some bold words, they are. So... you say you’re good at those games, kid?” Nalia giggled. “Think you can take on my bro over there?”

“I can beat even the mistress if it is card games we’re talking about.”

“You heard that, Varhel? Come ‘ere and show this boy what a true player is.”

A slight smile bloomed on the young man’s pale face, and he threw a glance towards Nidor.

“He’s too good for me, sis. Sorry, but I can’t.”

„Are you shittin’ me?” Nalia threw a fiery glance towards her brother. “What about you, Ehrir? Or the corpse over there?”

“Don’t look at me.” The Undone One shrugged. “I’m not even sure how to play this thrice-damned game.”

Zaster, on the other hand, clicked with his teeth and chuckled lightly. The sound resembled the coughing of a dying man a little bit too closely to be comfortable for the ear.

“I’ll play”, he said in a whisper-like manner. “Wanna bet some money, kid?”

“Of course I do.” Nidor asked and took out a handful of coins. “Shall we begin?”

“Yes. Let's.”

Ehrir hadn’t seen the Unliving this competitive and determined since the battle in the crypt. “Well, this will be interesting”, he said to himself and watched as the two men began a game which could only be described as ‘intense’.

***

After half an hour of showing tactical genius, immense luck and a considerable talent in the art of bluffing (not that he could show many emotions with his face in the first place), Zaster won. It was a hard, well-earned victory, and it made Nalia curse aloud and laugh. Nidor, on the other hand, wasn’t so happy.

“I thought that there wasn’t anyone here better than me…” he hissed bitterly. “What kind of genius are you, Zaster?”

“I’m no genius, boy.” The zombie shook his head. “I just have experience… If you were my age, you’d surely win, but you’ll have to wait a bit for that… I also have a decaying, emotionless face and a good portion of luck. They help, too.”

The youngling handed over his handful of coins – mainly simple copper and some silver ones mixed with them – to the undead man. Not without regret written all over his face, though. He and Zaster were continuing to ramble when one of the gates in the nearby wall opened and their mistress, along with Sevrian, emerged from it, accompanied by four guards. The elder sorcerers’ eyes brightened and their faces softened when they saw the disciples.

“After us, younglings”, Ehrir’s master commanded with a warm voice. Salelia nodded quietly at his words and gestured towards the apprentices to follow her and the older wizard. The disciples obeyed silently, soon stepping into a new, unfamiliar set of greyish, cold hallways.

While they walked through them, the sorceress explained the current situation.

“We have permission to enter the palace now”, she said softly and clearly. Her face was still, without any kind of emotion emanating from its gentle features. “But… There is a problem.”

“Of course there is”, whispered Nalia from besides Ehrir. She left her horse outside and was transported in an improvised wheelchair made by the albino’s Creation and further refined by the Undone One. Varhel was moving it confidently while watching over his sister with a defensive kind of gaze.

The witch didn’t notice the young woman’s words and continued talking rather confidently.

“The king is dealing with a sort of political crisis right now. Everything is quiet on the outside, but the advisor that talked with us about it seemed very worried. He said that the palace is like a melting pot right now, and that we may rest here for a day. Afterwards we should go and wait in the city for a week or two."

Silence reigned for a while after this line, the only sounds in the hallway coming the people's steps and their quiet breathing. The guards didn't seem moved at all by the witch's words, even if they concerned the stability of their own home state. "They probably know all about this whole ordeal", Ehrir realized grimly. "Can the Thirdborn be part of it, too? Is the crisis... Born by the fail of the assassination attempt?"

While he analyzed the politics of Tarha-Nan with what little scraps of knowledge he had, the hallway around him changed. It became broader, well-lit and brimming with life. Many soldiers and guards passed the group of sorcerers. A lot of them disappeared into the looming innards of the dozens of doors around the maze of corridors.

"What is this place?" asked Nidor at one point in a low tone.

It wasn't low enough.

"It's where we store our equipment, kid", one of the escorting guards looked at the branded boy coldly, but his voice wasn't disdainful. "It's not the usual route to take guests through, but we shouldn't have brought you to the practice yard in the first place."

The group walked through the remainder of the hallways without uttering a word. Then they entered an isolated garden, covered in luscious green, and went into a far more luxurious building. The crystal towers of the palace - just as fascinating in the daylight as in the night's veil - stood above their heads.

The travelling party didn't spent much more time in the castle's outskirts. The house - or the mansion, rather - they entered seemed to be used mainly for storing various supplies. The guards mentioned that a lot of lesser nobles used the place as their residence when the king invited them over for a five-day feast to celebrate the new year (as an ancient tradition dictated). Now, there were only servants here.

The winter residence exited into a giant garden, well-ordered and covered in plants and flowers in all imaginable colors. Amongst them , half-sunk into the ground, stood numerous shards of crystal, usually the size of a grown man. It was a strange, mesmerizing sight. Ehrir could barely stop staring at it and let his eyes gaze off into what lied beyond.

In the center of the garden stood the castle, bathing in all of its otherworldly beauty. Surrounded by countless defenses, it rested like a crown upon a monarch's head. Its colorful walls looked frail and delicate, and yet they emanated the feeling of ancient might. There was a subtle aura of magic in the air... This castle wasn't the work of human beings.

"What secrets... do you hide?" the Undone One whispered, his voice drowned out by the excited banter of his comrades. He felt his heart pacing faster. His destination was reached... He could rest for a little while now.

But what if his nemesis waited between these ethereal walls? What if Farnaraen lurked in this palace?

"What secrets... do you hide?" Ehrir asked again as he took a bold step towards the castle.