"So young master Faulkner told us to take him where?" A voice spoke in the darkness, gruff and cold. Gryfor slowly opened his eyes, finding the light too dim to see.

"He said the War Council. Where else?" Another voice replied to the first, shuffling in his seat. His voice was more light, and carried a trace of caution.

Gryfor tried to move his arms, finding them restrained by chains. His legs weren't free either, attached to what seemed to be a cage. Gryfor felt pain once more arise from various parts of his body. His wounds had yet to heal from the nights before.

Where am I? Gryfor wasn't able to make sense of any direction. All he could tell from the occasional bumps he felt was that he was being transported somewhere. As to where, he couldn't say.

"I think he's awake, the monster. Should I go check, Remus?" A third spoke up, belonging to a lady with a calm tone.

"Don't bother, Ansa. His kind should have been killed long ago. To think that such despicable characters still existed." The gruff speaker Remus kept the lady at bay, his voice filled with disgust for Gryfor.

"What was his crime again?" The younger male spoke, curious.

"Silly. You haven't heard, Afnaro? The person we're taking practiced Lifeblood Refining. You should know that just still being alive is a blessing for him." The lady scolded Afnaro, displeased with his actions.

Gryfor listened to the exchange of the three other passengers, realizing what was going on.

I'm being taken to the War Council for Lifeblood Refining charges because of the young master of the Faulkner family. Gryfor thought back to the hooded fellow that attacked him in one strike. To think the genius Parsmir warned him about was deadly to such an extent.

Gryfor was ready to use the Howling Wind Technique at the new enemy, but just before he channeled it the hooded figure had released his weapons. From his experience in war, Gryfor was able to tell some small yet sharp weapons entered his body under the mysterious figure's Aura, forcing him to faint after paralyzing Gryfor's control over his Aura Core. Because Gryfor felt no pain from the weapons, he wasn't able to tell from where the weapons entered.

A person likely using Needle Arts, needles that can't be tracked. Gryfor wasn't able to see the face of his enemy, but knew that his foe was likely trained in Arts that utilized great precision and were capable of subduing targets. If it was for one on one combat, only Needle Arts could be what the figure used.

After losing consciousness, Gryfor recalled being chained up to the wooden post, being tortured by those Faulkner servants. He also watched as several Medical doctors extracted his blood, testing him for traces of Lifeblood Refining. His current predicament was the product of that screening.

He remembered the smirk of the subordinate of Eric Faulkner, the person he suspected the most of being that mysterious figure. Along side that subordinate was Mona Aurum and the old blacksmith Jaspen. To think that the two of them would become Eric's subordinates as well.

I was too hasty, too careless. I should have taken the Aurum child's Lifeblood when it became possible immediately. Gryfor regreted not ordering for Mona Aurum to give a portion of blood. With it, Gryfor could have greatly improved his natural talent, perhaps even to the point of breaking through the bottleneck of becoming an Aura Lord.

Now, however, was not the time for regrets. He had lost this chance, and knew that gaining another would be impossible. Right now he was being taken to the War Council, and likely would be transferred to the Councillor Prison until further investigation. Once the elders receive the evidence, his life was no different than his mentor Molov, dead in a grave.

I failed to heed Parsmir's words. Gryfor knew that Parsmir had done all he could to help him, but he failed to realize. Gryfor tried to move his arms, the chains not budging an inch, only growing tighter. This is a Creation made for Trapping prisoners.

Gryfor then began to chant the words of the Howling Wind Technique in his mind.

The wind arcs across the for--

Before he could finish, Gryfor watched as the Creation gave off an eerie green glow. The shimmering color extended from the edges of the cage down the chains and towards the cuffs that were on each of his limbs. The light reflected in his eyes as a severe shock coursed through his body. His body jolted in place, his mouth taking ragged breaths as he watched the green light disappear once again.

It's a Trap Creation with an Aura prevention system. Gryfor now knew why the three guards taking him to the War Council were so calm. His Aura was trapped by the cuffs on his hands and feet, and he couldn't use it to harm anyone. As long as he wore these two sets of Creations, he was no different from a mere mortal. Even a child armed with a knife could end him.

The guards of the carriage had noticed the green glow of the cage, the guards Ansa and Afnaro slowly making their way closer to him. Gryfor could hear their light footsteps creak as they reached ever closer to him in the wagon.

Gryfor watched as his cage was unshielded from the sun's rays. He couldn't shield his eyes as he was temporarily blinded. When he opened them he saw the two guards before them, and his body spread in an X. Each of his limbs were chained thrice in place by seperate Creations to his cage, his wounds from being tortured by the Faulkner soldiers still fresh.

Gryfor didn't attempt to speak as he gave a meaningful glare at the two guards looking back at him. The one named Afnaro backed up from his sight, wheras the one name Asna pulled out a small knife with a blue edge. Clearly it had poison.

"Afnaro, stop being a weakling. Maybe then I would go out with you." Asna criticized the young man named Afnaro who was holding his short sword across his body. Afnaro felt a shred of shame as he realized what he had done.

"He's an Aura Saint even if he is trapped, Asna. For all we know he can escape."

"Stop making excuses. Remus and I both know how you are." Anger was present in Asna's voice as she once again replied to Afnaro. A near imperceptible trace of respect was in her voice only when she mentioned Remus.

"Stop playing around, you two. If I have to, I will make sure both of you learn how to act when we reach the War Council. Understand?" Remus turned back to the quarreling guards, his words hinting at his rage. He was the leader of this small squad, and hated how Asna and Afnaro always bickered with one another.

The two younger guards looked at the squad leader's face, each shutting their mouths. Both clearly feared Remus quite a bit.

Gryfor tried to speak, but felt he couldn't say a word. When the two guards noticed this, the one named Asna chuckled as Gryfor struggled to speak. She resheathed her knife, giving no respect to the chained general.

"Did you actually think we would bring you into Alberdos without following protocol? Well, General Gryfor? Or do I say former general Gryfor?" Asna looked at Gryfor with contempt, as if Gryfor was about to die for being a traitor. Her hair shifted with each of her steps as she sat once again besides Remus.

Afnaro looked at Gryfor, fright in his eyes. G-g-general Gryfor? He didn't know that the person they were taking to the War Council was the famous Alberdan soldier who had the best chance of being the youngest admiral in Alberdan history. He couldn't understand why such a figure would throw away their life by committing such a crime.

When he was a general, he was an Aura Saint Level 7. I'm an Aura Warrior level 5. Afnaro walked back further, realizing the disparity in their strength. If Gryfor was to break free, he wouldn't stand a chance. This thought rid him of his courage, resulting in the young guard dashing back to Remus's side. He gave no attention as he was ridiculed by Asna with her glares.

Protocol. Prisoner Amendment 6, page 7, clause 9. Upon retrieval of a soldier that may have committed a crime, he is to be silenced with Malfor poison, enchained in an Aura Isolation Creation, and left unfed until his trial. Gryfor recalled the words he had learned under Molov's teachings. It all made sense now.

When I was unconscious, they carried me to the Alberdan gates. There they made me take the Dew of Malfor, placed me in this cage and chained me inside of this box. Afterwards, I was placed on a wagon to be taken to Merister. Gryfor turned his head, the only part of his body he was still able to move. He noticed he was in a standard issue Alberdan wagon, the Alberdan Army's symbol etched all over the wooden panels. Beside his cage were chests and cargo boxes, presumably what else this transport squad was taking to Alberdos. Near his cage was what was covering him from seeing the world, a large black heavy cloth.

Gryfor didn't know what to do. After being taken into custody, chances were his weapon and anything he owned that could have aided him in escaping was taken away. At the moment he was wearing rags which barely protected him from the Alberdan wind. The sunlight was heavy on his brow, a trace of sweat slowly flowing down his temples. He hadn't eaten in days, and without Aura he couldn't hold back his hunger or thirst.

The Alberdan Army was strict in its treatment of soldiers who commit crimes. The accused would lose the majority of their rights, forced back to the War Council like a slave to be tried. Gryfor knew that because he was of Molov's faction in the War Council inner politics, the others would not treat him equally with other prisoners. If he died, it would only be after considerable amounts of torture from the other faction.

Gryfor understood that even if Parsmir was to act, his best chance was life imprisonment. Lifeblood Refining was prohibited by all powers and all nations; if anyone learns Gryfor was able to leave unscathed for such a crime, the Alberdan Empire would face complete annihilation. Such was the importance of Lifeblood Refining to never appear in Madrag again.

Gryfor looked to the sky, seeing the white clouds that filled the air. I can't train Aura because of these Isolation Chains. I cannot escape. I will likely die without being able to do anything. Gryfor felt furious from all the pitfalls of his life.

His parents had died during his youth, leaving him to take care of a sister he would lose thirteen years later to a noble's wicked desires. His last source of family, his mentor the grand elder Molov, died not long after for reasons Gryfor would never believe. His entrance into the Alberdan Army, his climb to the rank of general was all to correct the injustice Alberdos had become. But now who would take the helm?

Parsmir was old and close to death, and Molov's allies were few. Their strength in the War Council was steadily dwindling, and it was likely one day no one would ever know the truth of the Empress's death and Molov's execution, of why the slums truly existed, of why he was willing to commit the crime of Lifeblood Refining and killing thousands of lives. It was never for cheap gains, but to eradicate the darkness that had long ago made Alberdos home and was continuing to cause havoc in secret.

The military wagon continued forward under Remus's watch, the pair of horses slowly making their way to the War Council. Gryfor didn't understand the cause for the black cloth, of why the two guards Asna and Afnaro covered his cage once again when they entered the city of Merister.

Is it because of my rank of general? Gryfor didn't believe that was the case. He didn't know why the military would go to such lengths to hide him. Was it because Parsmir was planning to smuggle him out? This didn't make sense to Gryfor either. If Parsmir was able to free Gryfor, he wouldn't have waited until such a point. It wasn't like Parsmir.

It must be Rolen. It must. The faction that fought with Molov was headed by the new grand elder of the War Council, Rolen Ersob. He was an active supporter of the war against Leafwind, and his signature was present on every order Gryfor received as he assaulted the Aurum manor. As Rolen was the leader of the elders who desired war, chances were Gryfor would be tortured by him privately.

Rolen and Molov were enemies on many counts, and Rolen eventually ended Molov through framing him for the murder of the Alberdan empress. Their relationship was never well, and grew more bitter as time went on. As Molov's legacy, Rolen was sure to ensure Gryfor would suffer at his hands and not have a quick death.

Gryfor felt the rigidity of the chains as the military wagon came to a halt. Through a small tear of the cloth Gryfor watched as the War Council gates opened, the wagon making its way inside. His Aura and body imprisoned, Gryfor could only curse his luck as he was taken to a holding cell in the Councillor Prison of the War Council.

Parsmir watched as the military wagon slowly made its way past the administration building to the back. His mind was in a mess of thoughts unsure of what to do. His brow furrowed, he paced rapidly back and forth in his office.

He had learned that Gryfor was to be brought to the War Council long ago, and that it was Eric Faulkner that accused Gryfor of committing the crime of Lifeblood Refining. From the manner in which the wagon he saw was greeted, he knew Gryfor had to be on that wagon.

Parsmir felt guilty throughout the whole affair. If only I hadn't given him that manual and taught him that language. Parsmir understood that Gryfor committed the crime using things he had given the general decades ago.

A hunch told Parsmir it would be valuable for Gryfor to learn the language and to have the book, but now Parsmir felt his actions were very insane. I've sent Molov's godson to an early death. What can I do when I see him again?

Once Gryfor was sentenced to death for Lifeblood Refining and was stripped of his general rank in the Alberdan Army, Parsmir understood that Rolen Ersob would spare no effort to attain Gryfor. Parsmir feared that if Rolen was to oversee Gryfor's imprisonment, Gryfor would be forced by Rolen to disclose any information he knows on Molov's faction.

Rolen was sure to value anything he could learn from Gryfor's memories. After all, Gryfor had much contact with Parsmir and many others and Rolen was sure to use a Memory Art to pry into Gryfor's mind for useful details. Parsmir didn't fear being known for giving Gryfor the Lifeblood Manual, he feared for the faction that supported peace in the War Council secretly being decimated one member at a time until Rolen's war faction had complete control. Then, not only would Parsmir be dead but Rolen would be free to guide the War Council into perhaps starting another bloody war with the Madrag Empire.

I must protect Gryfor, but how? Parsmir wasn't so sure as to how he could keep Gryfor safe from Rolen's clutches. Rolen not only had allies in every subdepartment of the War Council, the elders that watched over the Councillor Prison were largely under Rolen's command. The only two elders, Farsby and Aigen, were largely neutral of the office politics in the War Council and did not bend either way.

To prevent Gryfor from being placed in Rolen's control through a Great Elder order, I need to convince those two men to side with me. A Great Elder order was an order the grand elder of the War Council could use to forcibly control the entirety of the War Council to his will. Rolen was sure to use it to gain access to Gryfor, but if he could convince the two elders Farsby and Aigen to refuse, the order would be stalled and Gryfor would remain in a holding cell.

If he couldn't, Gryfor would be transferred to a solitary prison cell for a false cause, and Rolen would be able to visit Gryfor whenever he pleased. All Rolen would have to do is have one of his elder subordinates create a reason for Gryfor's transfer, and Gryfor would be done for.

Parsmir corrected his clothing, taking one last glimpse at the citizens of Merister in the distance, enjoying their daily lives. Soon after, Parsmir locked his office door and went down several flights of stairs. The occasional servant or elder watched as Parsmir left in a hurry, his footsteps ricocheting within the building as he exited the tower structure.

Greeting an amicable servant, Parsmir made his way to the Councillor Chambers about half a mile away. He avoided the usual method of taking a carriage, using his Saint level Aura to enhance his speed. Before a surprised servant, Parsmir once again corrected his clothing before entering the Councillor Chambers. To his luck, Farsby and Aigen were eating together in the Glass Dome.

Seated on one of the many tables were two fairly old men, chatting as they ate from two sets of plates. The one Parsmir saw as Farsby had not a single hair on his head, speaking as he read from a book. The other named Aigen had a beard and a furrowed brow, his dual hammers hanging from his sides. Next to the two old men were two servants, each the aide of Farsby and Aigen.

Parsmir stopped just before the table, taking deep breaths to calm down. The two elders looked at him, recognizing the fellow that strolled often with Molov in the days past. Parsmir looked to the two elders, exchanging pleasantries.

"Fetch elder Parsmir a chair, will you?" Aigen ordered his servant, his face improved with Parsmir's appearance. It didn't seem as if he and Farsby were having a heated conversation at all.

Once Parsmir was seated at the table, the two other elders asked of him to share in lunch, but he promptly refused. Parsmir gazed at the glass dome of the ceiling, seeing the clouds basking in sunlight. It was already the afternoon.

"Well, Parsmir, seeing you have come so far, mind us knowing of what you desire? Aigen and I were discussing a prisoner's charges, and would like to continue." Farsby looked to Parsmir, awaiting his reply.

Parsmir sighed, before he gave each elder a pleading face. "Fellow elders, I would like to ask both of you for a favor." Parsmir sighed once again.

"Well tell us, Parsmir. If it's within our grasp, I assure you I will help." Aigen replied amicably. He rested his eating utensils on his plate, looking to Parsmir.

"I am sure both of you have heard of General Gryfor and the accusation he has committed the crime of Lifeblood refining. I would like to--"

"Parsmir, please wait a minute." Aigen gave a meaningful gaze to Farsby before looking to his servant. "I would like some privacy with elder Parsmir. I will call for you when our conversation is over." Aigen spoke with his servant, the young lady giving a bow before leaving. Farsby's assistant repeated the same. Parsmir was now largely alone with Farsby and Aigen.

All three understood that it was best their servants had no knowledge of what was to come. Although Farsby and Aigen trusted their attendants, they didn't want the world to learn of all the occurrences between elders. Parsmir understood this as well, and had not called for his assistant either.

"As I was saying, Gryfor has been accused of Lifeblood Refining. I would like to ask you two of a favor." Parsmir resumed his conversation, looking to the two elders.

"To think you came for Gryfor as well." Farsby reclined in his chair, closing his book. He kept a steady gaze whereas Aigen chuckled from the coincidence.

"You should know, elder Parsmir, we cannot free Gryfor. The charges are too great, and the evidence is quite valid." Farsby looked to Parsmir, gauging his reaction.

Parsmir hesitated, but began to speak. "Elder Farsby, I am not requesting his freedom. I am requesting a favor related to him, but not of his imprisonment." Parsmir attempted to make his stance clear.

Aigen grew curious. "Then Elder Parsmir, what is it?" He began to feel the stubble of his beard, intrigued.

"I'd like you two to support Gryfor being held in only a holding cell and give me visiting times with him. Nothing more than that. If Grand Elder Rolen orders for Gryfor to be placed in an actual prison cell through a Great Elder order, I wish that both of you disagree with him." Parsmir looked to both of them, hoping for the best.

Silence resumed at the table. Aigen looked into the distance, contemplating. Farsby looked back to Parsmir, a trace of serious in his voice. "You believe that the grand elder will do such a thing?"

Parsmir nodded. He felt that such an outcome wasn't a question of if the grand elder would, but when. With Molov's peace faction crumbling and Rolen's war faction rising, Parsmir expected that Gryfor would be transferred under Rolen's order. He was almost certain of it.

"I don't know, elder Parsmir. It's not certain Grand Elder Rolen would do such a thing." Farsby lifted his cup, sipping the contents.

"I'll support you, Parsmir." Aigen looked to Parsmir a smile across his face. Parsmir looked to Farsby's face for agreement, only to find the elder furrowed his brow.

"You always were a radical." Farsby did not mince words, looking at the smiling Aigen with a bit of displeasure.

"I always considered myself a 'forward thinker.' Besides Farsby, there is no guarantee Gryfor wasn't forced to refine Lifeblood. If he was, don't you think your stance is incorrect?" Aigen smiled at elder Farsby, whose brow revealed a few thin lines.

"Forced? The chances of a general being forced of such a thing are slim. And even if he was, where is your evidence? How would you take that to trial?" Farsby retorted, a smug smile on his face. Pleasure filled Farsby's eyes; it seemed he liked to win arguments against Aigen.

"We aren't talking about the trial, Farsby. We are talking about the possibility of Rolen forcing Gryfor to transfer. Would you?" Aigen looked to Farsby, his hands clasped on the table.

Parsmir gave a pleading face as he made eye contact with Farsby. "Would you, elder Farsby?"

Farsby took a deep breath, looking once at Parsmir and Aigen before focusing on Parsmir once again.

"Parsmir, I've decided that on the chance that such a thing occurs, I'll support you on account of our time as colleagues. Remember I will call for that favor soon, so be ready." Farsby spoke, watching as Parsmir's eyes shone with happiness.

"However, listen clearly. I know that Gryfor is more than just a prisoner to you Parsmir. And I don't know why you would fear he would be targeted by Rolen, but listen here. If he forces his way past our disagreement or requests an answer for our actions, I hope you understand that Gryfor at that point will be finished. You won't be able to save him." Farsby's words cut into Parsmir's hope like knives into butter. Reality rarely went as one hoped.

Understanding that Rolen might take it further then he originally thought, Parsmir thanked the two elders. Farsby, I will be able to save him, simply not now. With time, Parsmir can slowly mobilize his forces to help free Gryfor, even if the chances are low. He could also grow the forces of the peace faction, aiding himself greatly.

Rolen would have greater difficulty if Gryfor's transfer was stalled. At the least, Rolen would have to wait a whole month to request a recount. That month was truly precious, and Parsmir would be sure to spend every minute wisely.

"Take care, elder Parsmir. I wish Gryfor best of luck with his ordeal." Aigen exchanged pleasantries before leaving through the exit alongside Farsby. The two continued their argument of what was to be the charges for Gryfor.

Parsmir looked through the glass dome once again, seeing the reddish hues of the sky. It's already sunset. He rose from his seat, a servant of the Councillor Chambers nearing to clean the table.

Outside, Parsmir rode a carriage on his way back to the administration building of the War Council. His eyes watching the sun set, his thoughts were on Gryfor.

Gryfor, Molov placed you in my care and I have failed greatly. I will make sure you stay alive through all of this. That I swear.