A screech had rattled the windows of the infirmary. Blu fell to the floor and covered her head. “What was that?!” She looked around, eyes wide with fear.

Alton didn’t actually wish to know. He adjusted the curtain, only to see that Veximarl had been tied up. “It appears to be a harpy?” Now that he could see the feathered mass more clearly, it did look like something he had seen depicted at the Carapace museum.

“A harpy?!” Blu scrambled to a stand and hastened to the window. “A harpy isn’t something you can casually claim is flapping about outside my window!” She made a panicked waved of her hands. Alton positioned himself between the window and her. “Move, please.”

“I’m sure it’s- Ow!” He flinched as Blu smacked him upside the head.

Blu squeezed past him and looked out the window just in time to see the harpy latch herself onto Veximarl. She let out an audible gasp, followed by a muffle as Alton clamped his palm over her mouth. He winced as she smacked him again, then stepped back when she shoved him off of her.

“What are you doing?!” Blu hit Alton again, much harder this time. “We ne-”

“Company!” Alton exclaimed. He then lowered his voice. “Be aware of our company.” His eyes flicked from her to Chickadee, then to her again.

“Now isn’t the time to worry about…” Blu hesitated. Chickadee did blow up one of the barrack’s walls last year. They hadn’t been able to use that particular dueling area since. “Beat! Beat, I need you over here.”

Beat rushed over to the sink and began to puke his guts out.

“What in the world is happening?!” Blu put a hand to her mouth as Vincent let out a cry of pain. “Alton! Get downstairs and deal with that problem! Luca! Roll Vincent on his side! Rest position! He’s starting to seize!”

Sparks of mana began to surge out of Vincent’s bracer. Luca shoved his way between Chickadee and Ira Knut and attempted to roll Vincent away from them. As he did so, mana continued to scream out the bracer. Vincent’s body tensed as he gritted his teeth and curled up in a ball.

“I will not be denied!”

The mana twisted together and formed into a fearsome minotaur, whose horns curled about its head like a crown. Iath took a moment to stretch his golem limbs. He grumbled to himself as he looked around the room. Most of the occupants were too stunned to move, but Beat was already barreling towards the door of the infirmary.

Beat braced himself against the wall by the door. He looked pale and queasy. “Put yourself away,” he weakly commanded.

Iath glared his way. His nostrils flared as he shifted his hooves, taking on a defensive stance. “I will not be denied,” he repeated. “The ones at fault are those who refuse to investigate my sister’s disappearance! I will not let such actions slide by without retribution.”

“It simply isn’t that easy.” Blu hesitantly approached Iath. “The members of Mart’s Mercy work independently of each other. It’s quite possible that he doesn’t know anything about what happened to Miss Eatha. Aside from that, that man works for the crown. There’s simply nothing that we can do about this matter.”

“This institution was founded by a man who murdered gods.” Iath turned to face Blu properly. “He would be ashamed of your cowardice.”

Luca put a hand to Vincent’s neck. He had passed out again. His body was cold, but his vitals were stable. “I think I get it,” he muttered. “We can’t stand around here and do nothing.”

Iath beamed. “Yes, young Luca! Do not fear the crown!”

Alton glanced out the window. The harpy was now sitting next to Veximarl instead of trying to eat him. He then looked back at Iath… And felt nothing but confusion. When did this happen? Why hadn’t Vincent mentioned anything? How long has this even been a thing?

“Is that why you didn’t want me looking into it?” Luca stood up. His gaze was burning with anger as he approached Blu. “Is that why you didn’t want me to go to Fogbloom and ask to be there for a second autopsy? Because you believed the crown ordered Tish’s death!?”

Blu hesitated. “There are simply-”

“My friend is dead!” Luca exclaimed. “And I had to find out about it by seeing her corpse in that man’s cart!” He pointed out the window. “Can you look me in the eye that she killed herself? Or are you too scared to find out the truth?!” Blu shook her head. “Answer me!”

Alton felt a chill take over his body. The body that Luca saw… It was Tish? And here comes Alton, randomly mentioning that Mart’s Mercy was just a bunch of assassins. No wonder Luca seemed so disinterested in doing anything fun.

Luca was furious. “I’m with the god! Let him sort that bastard out!” He then pointed at the window. “What are you hiding, Alton?! Is Vex in trouble?”

There was a buzzing in Alton’s mind. He was starting to feel numb. “He only has Vex a little tied up right now.” Chickadee immediately stood up. “He’s fine! He’s just…” His eyes widened as he watched Iath charge towards him.

Alton dived out the way as Iath barreled through the wall. His senses were momentarily overloaded by the loud crash. That buzzing sound grew all the stronger as he heard Iath began to yell.

Chickadee looked at Alton. He had fallen on the floor when he had taken a dive and was now clutching onto the sides of his head. There was a chance that he might’ve stayed put if Alton had asked him, but he was fearful of what had happened to Veximarl.

“Come.” Chickadee grabbed onto Luca’s sleeve and began to run towards the gap in the wall.

Not wanting to say no, Luca allowed himself to be dragged along. Both of them leaped from the infirmary at the same time. Chickadee caught them with a gust of wind before they could slam into the ground. He then positioned himself between Protea and Veximarl while Luca skidded to his knees next to the necromancer and began to check his wounds.

“Get your mana out of him!” Luca shouted at Protea.

Protea glared. “... Tch.” He flicked his fingers, and strands of mana began to flow out of Veximarl’s wound. A necromancer he could deal with, and the cleric didn’t look all that strong either, but Chickadee was a different issue. That little body of his screeched with battle experience.

“Where is my sister?!” Iath hollered.

The… Whatever this was, was yelling at him again. Protea scratched the back of his head. “Are you supposed to be Iath or something?”

Veximarl could feel his mind clearing. “... Thank you Luca.” He looked around. This situation was becoming more and more of a mess by the minute.

“I am the god Iath.” He flexed his fingers and a short sword appeared in his hand. “Either answer me properly or be prepared to fight.”

That body of Iath’s appeared to be a golem. “Tch.” Protea clicked his tongue again. He could easily destroy it with his dagger, but he worried that he’d get in trouble with Neryx. “Your sister? Eatha?” Protea shrugged. “She’s probably fine.”

“Where is she?” Iath growled.

“In Fogbloom,” replied Protea. “Where I need to be. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He jerked back his hand and Veximarl skidded across the ground towards him.

Chickadee hesitated. Would using magic against the cleric hurt Veximarl somehow? Might as well risk it, since there was no time to debate. Necromancers were pretty tough. He shifted his foot and the ground below the doctor. Protea’s body shot up in the air just as a flood of rocks came shooting up from the ground. His body dangled there for a moment, caught up in his own mana strings. A bead of sweat dripped from his brow.

Damn elementalists. This was the Cully brat, eh? Killing Iath might be an excusable action, but Neryx would be doubly upset if he did anything to a Cully. Talwyn and her daughter, Caitlin, were practically high nobility. Their fame and riches had only grown since they started mass producing blood iron trinkets to use during the war.

Killing a Cully would draw too much attention. Plenty of people wanted to gain favor with the Cullys now. This death would result in a manhunt, and Neryx would gladly hand over Protea’s head if the doctor was foolish enough to do something stupid.

“I wasn’t going to do anything bad to him,” muttered Protea.

Luca gestured to Veximarl. “He’s clearly injured!” And had been covered in dirt and dust from the road he had just been drug through.

Amalfrieda let out a chortle.

Protea slowly lowered himself until he was standing on top of the stone structure Chickadee had yanked out of the ground. Was killing him even possible? Might have lost a foot if he hadn’t hesitated earlier. “My harpy can’t operate unless she’s had a taste of blood. That’s simply how a lineage test works.” He looked around. “Where did my harpy go?”

“She crawled back into your cart,” replied Amalfrieda.

Veximarl carefully evaluated the situation. This was bad. Right now was the calm before the storm, where everyone was patiently waiting for someone to mess up. It was one slip-up away from a complete blood bath. They were all waiting to see a weakness in their opponent’s defenses.

He could tell that Chickadee was struggling with whether or not he should just murder Protea, and Veximarl had absolutely no idea what was going on with Iath. Gold was Iath’s mana color, but that blue was clearly Vincent’s. Since when could Iath operate out of Iath’s golem? It had to be the bracer, otherwise, Alton wouldn’t have asked Chickadee to come.

Iath may believe that form made him invincible and choose to attack unprovoked. Veximarl knew better though. One arrow of true faith was enough to kill Alex and destroy his blood iron gem. What would a dagger do to Iath? If Vincent’s mana was interwoven with Iath, wouldn’t his life be in danger now? Iath didn’t seem like the smart type. He may choose to take risks believing that his body was invincible and not understand the threat of a dagger.

Veximarl had to be careful. “Iath.” He waited for the god to look his way. “May I ask my questions first before you choose to do anything?”

Iath glared at Veximarl. If only he didn’t sense Tria’s magic on him. “... You may.” He wouldn’t bother to abide by that request if this wasn’t Tria’s son.

Good. Now all he had to do was buy some time while he figured this out. “Who sent you to confirm my identity?” Vexiamarl didn’t bother to fight against his restraints. The others would act up if they saw him struggling. “What do they want with me?”

Protea was tense. He also sensed that a storm was brewing and didn’t want to be caught up in the middle of it. “I was sent to confirm your identity as a descendant of King Cadogan. King Howell wished to…” His voice trailed off as Alton exited the infirmary building.

Alton weakly smiled at the group as he shuffled past. “... Excuse me.” He awkwardly hastened to enter the door below Till’s office. A silence hovered over the group until Alton closed the door behind him.

“As I was saying,” continued Protea. “King Howell wishes to inaugurate you as a member of his court, my lord. We should leave for Fogbloom as soon as we are able.”

Luca’s voice squeaked as he exclaimed, “You have him tied up!”

Veximarl furrowed his brow. There wasn’t any way for him to break the tension. He kept his gaze on Protea. The man had been referring to him as “my lord” the entire while. Though he was verbally showing respect, he also seemed to be as crazy as Amalfrieda. Perhaps tying him up was Protea’s attempt to keep everyone calm and safe?

“Then you assure me of my safety?” Veximarl shifted his legs until he got his center of balance above them. He then wobbled to a stand. “If I go to Fogbloom, you’ll assure me of my safety?”

Protea cocked his head to the side. “I was told to bring you back alive. I don’t care what happens to you after that.”

Iath was fuming just as much as Chickadee was. Both of them were staring at Protea like they could snap him in half if they were given the chance. One stood there snarling while the other had a pair of rocks spiraling above his palm. Traces of dust were floating about Chickadee’s feet.

Veximarl still needed to defuse the situation. “Was it the same for Eatha? Did you guarantee her safety?”

“... Eh?” Protea tilted his head the other way.

“My sister,” growled Iath. “Who did you hand her off to?”

Protea pulled his mask over his face. “Someone with a mask.” He gestured to his face. “My organization rarely deals with names. Rest assured that I handed her over in the same condition which I received her. I doubt they did anything to alter her after that.”

Dead. She was likely dead. Then again, they would’ve heard something if something had happened to all the priestesses. Think, Veximarl. Either she was alright, or… They had reduced her to blood iron. Like Brayton had done with Tyrtain and Bellia. The priestesses may have only noticed a slight weakening of their powers as a result.

Veximarl frowned. The other problem was that someone near the king had learned about his heritage. Among those who knew, Veximarl had lost contact with four of them. At least three of them had strong connections with Fogbloom. Zaniyah, Tish, and Gwyn. There was a slim chance that the fourth, Sybil, had kept in contact with Duxton. Was it possible that Duxton ordered him to come to the palace?

It didn’t actually matter if Veximarl arrived dead or alive to Fogbloom. He was effectively trading his life for the safety of Iath and Braytons. Starting a fight with Protea now would only lead to Bratyon fighting against the crown, and losing that battle. Veximarl had to make it seem like him leaving was actually advantageous.

“I’ll head to Fogbloom willingly and negotiate for Eatha to visit her brother.” Veximarl straightened his back and did what he could to stand proudly. This was usually difficult for him to do, but doubly so when he was tied up like this.

“Are you insane?!” Luca cried out. “You have no reason to trust him!”

Iath nodded. “I agree with the cleric.”

“He murdered Tish!” Added Luca.

Iath folded his arms. “I have no idea who Tish is, but murder is rarely justified.”

Protea let out a scoff. “I assure you that she made and drank that poison herself. Her death was clearly a suicide.”

Veximarl glanced over his shoulder and looked at Luca. “... Tish is dead?” He whispered weakly.

They never needed her alive in the first place. Just like with Eatha. Tish originally served as a spy, meaning she had information that they wanted. Protea didn’t seem all that bothered to have transported only the body back because... There was a necromancer in Fogbloom. Not Rosethorn, but someone much higher up on the food chain. Someone who could foster information from Tish’s dead lips and see Veximarl’s existence as an opportunity.

Protea’s threads began to melt off of Veximarl’s body as his mana snapped them one by one. Veximarl ran a hand through his hair as he smiled widely at both Luca and Chickadee. For the first time in his life, Veximarl felt focused. He felt motivated. So this is what it was like to have confidence in one’s self.

“Chi, Luca. Thank you for your concern.” Veximarl bowed. “I’ll be able to handle it from here.” He then turned his attention to Iath. “Your presence appears to be harming Vincent. I ask that you do not loiter about for long. Once I have contacted Eatha, I will immediately send word back to the barracks.”

Chickadee stared at Veximarl. He wanted to slap some sense in him, but… Veximarl was smiling. There were times where Veximarl had laughed or smiled before, but this was different. It was like staring into the face of a mad man who had finally snapped. Someone who was about to see to it that the palace would be weeping with blood.

He couldn’t help but to feel a hint of pride. After all, Chickadee helped raise that boy. “... Alright.” He gave Veximarl a thumbs up. “See you soon.”

Luca couldn’t be more dumbfounded. He hadn’t known Veximarl for long, but… Veximarl was bright and talented. That’s always how Luca had viewed him. Even if they both worked at the same hospital, Luca had always known that Veximarl was on a different path than himself. Not necessarily for greatness, but something entirely different.

He would describe it as a bang. Veximarl was the type of person one would expect to be at the center of a major event. One that would change the way the world worked. Luca, a simple cleric who could barely fight, could feel himself melting in the background of that story. There wasn’t anything he could say or do that would help or hinder Veximarl.

“Don’t die,” was all he replied.

Iath scowled. He felt bitter. The way Veximarl was so proudly standing… It reminded him of the face that Brayton made right before he went off to battle Tyrtain. This wasn’t bravery. It was resignation. Brayton resigned himself to do something that would cause him to hate himself for the rest of his life.

He couldn’t help but to feel that if Tria saw her son right now, she’d feel a sense of overwhelming pride. This was the face that she had been trying to see again after so many centuries. The resolve that all of his other descendants failed to muster.

“It isn’t right for gods to mettle in the affairs of humans,” muttered Iath, knowing full well that he often went against his own advice. “I’m giving you till Winter, then I’m tearing down the capital myself.”

At least it was a start. Iath would die in that fight, but at least he was willing to put it off by half a month. If he was capable of winning such a battle, the Southern War wouldn’t have lasted three years.

“It shouldn’t take that long to send a letter back,” Veximarl replied in a blank tone.

“I am well aware,” spat Iath, who then pointed at Chickadee. “Be sure to repair the damage we did to that wall.”

Chickadee squinted. He then looked up at the gaping hole in the wall and wondered why he was at fault for it. By the time he looked back at Iath, the paladin god was already dissipating into glints of mana.

Veximarl turned his attention to Protea. “I need to gather a few changes of clothing.”

Now, this is where Protea got to show off his skills as a generous kidnapper. “I already have some packed for you. Clothing worthy of someone of your pedigree, something which I doubt you have here.”

He had fully anticipated tying up Veximarl and dragging him out by force. Neryx would be upset if he tossed him around in rags, so he requested extra funds for buying a couple of suits. The kid seemed to have some sort of weird vengeance glow in his eyes, but Protea wasn’t going to complain if it meant that Veximarl would follow him both willingly and quietly.

“We should leave immediately,” added Protea. Before Veximarl had a chance to try to sneak along any items that would later prove dangerous.

Amalfrieda protested. “I still need my documents signed off my Till.”

“You already tossed what you need in the cart,” argued Protea. “Let the kiddos handle the rest of the cleanup and have your documents mailed to you later.”

Amalfrieda glared. “... Right.” She walked up to the cart and clambered onto the driver’s seat.

“Climb inside with the harpy,” ordered Protea to Veximarl. “She won’t bite.”

Veximarl didn’t want to be in the back with the harpy, but he also didn’t want to make the others worry by suddenly protesting now. He clambered into the back, where the harpy was perched on the edge of a small bed. There were cabinets everywhere, and a long trap door along the floor. Probably where the bodies were stored during transport. The only place where Veximarl could sit was a chair placed next to the bed.

The harpy was patiently waiting for him to settle in. Her beady eyes studied him as her head twitched this way and that. “Here.” She held out a foot, and the bracelet she had been chewing on earlier was dangling from her toe.

The cart started to roll. Veximarl hadn’t noticed that they were already on the move. Honestly, he was so stunned by the harpy talking that he hadn’t registered what she had said. “... Pardon?”

She waggled her toe at him. “Neryx said give blood to blood. Here. Blood is for blood.”

Veximarl took the bracelet from her hands and examined it. “Alessia Fogbloom” was engraved along the inner rim. He didn’t know who had received the item after her death, but he assumed it was either someone related to the Aconite family or the church.

“Who is Neryx?”

The question absolutely boggled the harpy’s mind. “Neryx is…” She struggled to answer. “Neryx is Neryx?”

Considering how the harpy only squawked at Protea and spoke to Veximarl, it didn’t seem like this harpy actually belonged to Protea. He didn’t treat the creature like it was capable of higher thought. Then again, he didn’t seem to treat anyone like they were capable of higher thought. Meaning he wouldn’t entrust the harpy to carry around something as rare as this bracelet. Neryx had to be someone important.

“Is Neryx Protea’s employer?”

The harpy was confused again. She only stared at him. Panic started to settle in as she realized she didn’t know how to reply.

Veximarl sighed. It didn’t seem like he was going to get much information from her. “... What’s your name?”

“Harlea.”

Harlea the Harpy. Veximarl looked her over again. She did seem young. Maybe she didn’t understand how foolish that name sounded. “Is that a common harpy name?”

“Neryx gave name. Said egg name bad. Hatching parents gifted Harlea away, so egg name no good.” Her feathers ruffled slightly before calming down again.

Veximarl could understand not respecting one’s birth name if one’s parents had abandoned them. Somehow though, he didn’t think they had a choice in the matter. Much like he suspected that Tish’s suicide wasn’t her decision. “Is it alright to talk to me? The others don’t seem to know that you’re capable of speech.”

“Veximarl,” replied Harlea.

“... Yes?”

She extended a wing towards him. “Veximarl. Good name.” She then shook her head. “It’s uh…” She tapped her mouth with the tip of her wing. “Native word. Understand? Makes you trustful human.”

“... My name is a word in the harpy language?” He understood that his mother was a strange person, but didn’t think she was that strange.

Harlea’s head bobbed forward and back, as a pigeons would. “Yes, yes. It’s uh…” Her head then ticked from side to side. “Not homesickness. Opposite. It means to find the place one belongs far from the place of one’s birth. Fogbloom.” She put a wing to her chest. “Fogbloom Harlea’s Veximarl.”

Veximarl was perplexed. Harlea eagerly bobbed her head, excited that he understood what she was talking about, even if he clearly didn’t. He leaned forward on the chair and let out a sigh. What was so good about such a strange name? People today seemed very interested in what his name was today. Veximarl. Fogbloom. They were all very interested.

To him, it didn’t matter much. He was himself. It would’ve been better to have been called to the palace on his own merits rather than the name of Fogbloom. Another sigh escaped his lips. Neryx had ordered this bracelet be handed over. It was a gift of good faith. He doubted that they would kill him the moment he got there, but he still worried about what they wanted with him.

Those in the barracks watched the cart roll out. Alton closed the window to Till’s office. The headmaster was sitting at her desk with her hand on her stomach. This day hadn’t been great for her. Ill news was refreshing at an astonishing rate, and she worried for the health of her child.

“Vex is going with the cleric,” muttered Alton as he sat down in the chair across her desk.

Till was worried but she didn’t let that show on her face. “I would like for you to make a unit to take to Fogbloom. A small group. Only those you believe would be necessary and ones that you trust completely. Be prepared to leave before evening.”

“Rescuing Vex is a suicide mission. If there is some small chance that we somehow succeed in saving him, we’d only be signing a death warrant on the barracks.” Alton was firm as he spoke. “It’s best to let him go.”

Till was unflinching. She stared at him for a moment before shaking her head with disappointment. “I have informants in Fogbloom, but their reach only extends so far. You are to head to the fort belonging to the Arbutus family and make contact with Prince Duxton. Evaluate the situation and use my best judgment.”

“Use my best judgment? What do you expect me to do?” Alton didn’t find Till’s orders to be all that clear.

“I honestly can’t tell you. Even if I did, the situation may have changed by the time you arrive.” Till folded her hands on her lap. “Gather information from Duxton. See if Sybil’s position has been compromised. If it hasn’t, don’t make contact. If it has, escort her out of the city. Use your best judgment.”

Alton tensed. His left eye twitched slightly. Fogbloom was absolutely the last place where Sybil should’ve been. Regardless if Sybil was involved in Veximarl’s capture or not, it may lead to the capital becoming a dangerous place for anyone to be. Even more so for Zaniyah. Both of them could be in danger.

“... I understand,” he replied. It didn’t matter if he had been exiled from the city or not. That cursed city was exactly the place where he needed to be. If Sybil chose to be there, that was her own grave, but he needed to get Zaniyah out of there.