The Sun Hall basked its center aisle in the warm morning light, along which, men and women stood grave of faces. Behind them like tall white shadows, the marble statues lined up along the walls, between large pillars and overshaded by the sun’s glory. A vast gap in the ceiling ran the length of the hall, allowing sunlight to glitter a path from the gate to the throne.

The King came. As he walked the aisle, on both sides the most powerful people in the kingdom bowed low. The blue sky and the great Sun reflected on the three jewels in his crowd: one great ruby in the middle, sapphire and jade on each side. His steps were heavy but in haste. On his face, the usual calm demeanor couldn’t be found.

When the King had settled on the seat of power shaped in the form of the Sun rising from the dark sea, men and women raised their head, their faces shared the same anxiousness of his.

Briefly, he scanned both lines before him. On the left were powerful knights, mages and master specialists of various arts. On the right and dressed in a less ornated manner were ministers of the country, who presided over the government affairs.

“Speak now,” said King Ulric the Third.

From the second position of the left line, a man stepped into the shining aisle and under the sun, revealed himself to be a man in his thirties. He stood with his feet apart under his shoulder, and straight like a military man. And one could easily mistake him for one due to his stern gaze behind a pair of thick glasses, or his large frame. But in fact, his robe was rich with ornaments, and purple – the color of the Archmage. On his hips, an arm-length scepter hanged. His both hands presented an open tome.

His mouth didn’t part, but a spell was cast. The tome grew dark, and the sunlight resting on its page vanished. Darkness sprang from the pages, and formed a floating dark globe some feet above his head. Inside, there were two orbs and millions of stars.

“The reason I advise a summoning today,” he said in a dull, clear voice, “is related to the event occurred two nights ago. A bizarre arrangements of the celestial beings.”

“So I had heard,” said the King. His brows tightened, and his lips under the grey beard pressed thinly together. “Tell us your explanation for this event.”

“There are already among people some rumors. For those to whom astrology is known, it’s an ill omen: Rarely has the High Moon been so thin, and waned, yet at the same time shone brightly was the Low Moon, and She came closer to the earth than ever.”

“And what of it do you think?” But the question wasn’t directed at the tall man. Instead, it was for a woman of equal imposing stature, yet her face relaxed and fear did not seem to trouble her eyes as much as others. She was first of the left line, in front of the Archmage’s position. She stepped out of the line and sunlight revealed her to be of an older age than the mage, though wrinkles had but little presence on her charming face. Her armor was white in color, intricate threads of gold decorated the plate’s edge and on her chest, silver threads wove the image of a bell.

“Mine is already known to Your Highness,” she spoke, slowly, with but a faint hint of playfulness “the Moons are fickle mistresses, they moved about as they please in their domain. They shone and wane for reasons known to them alone. Our Archmage, in my humble opinion, is wasting away his youth and blossom body gazing at the stars. So that is my answer, I care not of such faraway events.”

“Neither am I certain a concrete significance could be found from the placement of the Moons, in this I share the same stance with General Ramiel,” said the Archmage, paying no heed to the tone of her answer, “but facts remain that bizarre things had happened across the sky. Following their course until two nights ago, the Low Moon should have been higher than the tallest peaks of the Misthorne, and the High Moon half full, but that night they were not as such. The people are not all aware of what transpired, and those who do think no more of it than strange events for meaningless chatters. But those learnt in Astrology would spread fear. For in their lore, that night the sky was a grave omen indeed, of which kind the recent centuries have not seen.

“Already there has been unrest. Many mages have sent for my advice, yet many more, I suspect, keep fear in their heart. Far south the Aubade Sect has sent messengers in the night to all their branches. No doubt they would soon gather men, power and other means to brace for their foreseeing disaster. And what other sorts of opportunists would arise I cannot say. But I advise that course of actions should be put in place immediately.”

Whispers rose from the ranks of nobles at the Archmage’s news. The faces grew heavy and seemingly withdrew from the sunlit aisle.

The King did not reprimand the ruckus, with but the first word of his they all fell to silence at once, “General Joachim.”

“Your Highness!” an old man with grey hair stepped from the right line into the aisle. He was larger than the two on his left.

“Give me a full report of every incident occurred since yesterday. Name only ones you find strange or threatening,” commanded the King as he leaned back on the throne, his right hand covered his mouth.

General Joachim began to relate the demanded report.

To the east, there was a horde of demon spotted crossing the border. They moved in great number and the knights have set up an intercept point near the choke point of a river.

In the capital, a mad murderer of his own mother and wife was caught and executed, only to be revealed after to be a cambion – a half-demon.

To the west, Stormsail’s supposed belonging was discovered being buried among the rocks bordering the barren lands, which was the first sign of her after her venturing to the haunted country months ago.

Rumours of dragons in valleys, or their roars deep under ore mines and below the Uncle lake, though those rumours were reported often and never with concrete evidence.

“The execution of the cambion is not of concern,” said the King, “as for the horde I trust our knights can handle them. The rest more or less are idle news. Yet the smallest concerns require throughout investigations. Prevent any disaster early on if the omen was true, and rid of any reason for unrest if not. Have you no more to report?”

“One more there is, Your Highness,” said the General carefully, “but I am not certain if it is worth Your Highness’s time.”

In response to a nod of the King, Joachim continued: “Two nights ago a raid was carried out by the knights of Fort Stoneheight. Which I have only received the report on the way to the palace in haste. What occurred is that they encountered a great number of demons, and only left with one survivor. Among them, notable are Sullivan, a captain knight; Fahlecain, a very capable knight; and the ranger knight Aeronwen.”

The people stirred slightly. For a particular reason, glances were directed at a figure down the right line. The target was a thin old man dressed in rich garments; his face grew stiff.

The King raised his hand, “Those are unfortunate news. But knights are protectors of mankind, their deaths while lamentable, sadly are no strange tales.”

“But strange it is indeed,” the general continued, “for of the ones I named, the knight Aeronwen only could not be found, living or death. Yet signs of him there are: a bolt from his crossbow impaled the knight Fahlecain’s forehead, and the wound on the captain’s neck matched the dagger belong to Aeronwen, which was left at the scene; towards the entrance, many more knights were founded with wounds that also matched a sword he took from knight Fahlecain, most likely to replace his own sword that was found broken. Furthermore, the sole survivor found traces of fell magic of an undetermined kind at the scene. Very soon the Order’s specialists will en route to investigate the matter.”

“Are you implying this Aeronwen had employed some strange magic to murder his fellow knights?” asked the King.

“Or as well he was controlled by it. But I can speak only of the facts of the matter.”

“Then I will have the Archmage assist you with the investigation,” the King commanded. Then he looked down the aisle from his throne and spoke, “Aeronwen.”

All head turned at once to the thin old man in the right line.

“Tell me now,” asked the King, “do you think the murderer of his fellow knights is indeed your son?”

***

“Of course not!” shouted Eva. She was a ball of rage.

“Behave yourself. You are standing before the General of the Army,” roared the Commander of Fort Stoneheight. “Kroger, control your knight! Until a new captain is appointed, you must act in the place of captain Sullivan. And that means proper discipline of your subordinates!”

Sir Kroger was leaning against the wall of the office of the Commander. Even the powerful figures of the army could not overwhelm his presence. Indeed, from under his red mane, a grimace drove his Commander back.

“Your accusation warrants her behavior, Commander,” said Kroger, “you would do better to convince them with concrete evidence.”

“In any case, you have our answer,” said Roland by Eva’s side. Though he wore an indignation look, the man had not said much since being summoned to the Commander’s office. He had an inkling of bad things coming. “We do not think Hector is the murderer. Long are the years we’ve known him, Eva by far more than anyone else. He is not the kind to commit such treachery.”

“I don’t doubt the sincerity of your words,” said General Joachim, only after everyone else had spoken their piece, “And it’s a cruel thing to convince one of his friend’s crime. But there is much business I must attend to. I need your cooperation.”

“Then look for the real culprit,” said Eva, not even to the General of the Army did she spare her glare, “it’s a waste of time to follow a wrong assumption.”

“Look General,” said Roland, “I really don’t think Roland killed them. Of that, you have my words.”

“Not even if I tell you a child was found killed by the knights there?”

Silence fell upon both Roland and Eva. In the corner, Sir Kroger raised his eyebrows.

“A child cambion indeed was found dead,” Joachim continued, “a clean cut across the throat. Professionally done. Is it not credible that the likeness of this cambion to a human child had sent Hector Aeronwen into a rage? That he could have tried desperately to protect this child, or other children if indeed they were present? And in doing so, he would even turn against his comrades, out of misplaced altruism? Such things have precedents. Though never have a knight succeeded in acting upon such whims, as most would be subjugated by other knights before long. But Hector Aeronwen is capable, in luck too, or ill luck, to have beside him only two other knights. Furthermore, and this convinces me, many have admitted that Hector is a compassionate man – a somewhat unknightly trait, but never been frowned upon until too late.

"Though never have a knight succeeded in acting upon such whims, as most would be subjugated by other knights before long. But Hector Aeronwen is capable, in luck too, or ill luck, to have beside him only two other knights. Furthermore, and this convinces me, many have admitted that Hector is a compassionate man – a somewhat unknightly trait, but never been frowned upon until too late.”

“No,” replied Roland, his gaze met Joachim’s and did not break.

“This is a direct order. I do not tolerate insubordination. In the chain of command, status and title hold no meaning!” Joachim bellowed, but then his voice softened somewhat, “if indeed the theory that Hector was controlled by some fell magic is true, or for some other reasons he could not be found against his will, then the best we can do for him is by bringing him back. Is that not the truth?”

“It is true,” said Roland, “but I cannot follow your order. Henceforth,” with a quick movement, he ripped the Order’s insignia from his coat and flung it onto the table “I am no longer a knight of the Order. Alone shall I look for him, and bring him back if it is indeed the better choice.”

“Only that Roland will not be alone in his task,” said Eva and she too threw her insignia on the table where it met the Roland’s.

Immediately, they turned and walked out of the door together.

Thus, the hunt for Hector Aeronwen commenced.