"This child," Quartus said, signaling for the royal handmaiden to enter the archive.

A young woman walked in calmly, holding the sleeping child in her arms. He was wrapped in a lavender blanket, his head nuzzled against the woman's shoulder.

She was escorted by two guards. The heavyset soldiers wore fully plated armor and carried large halberd axes.

Quartus said, "His origins must remain a secret."

"Oh, well that's easy," Frolick said. "Because we have no idea what his origins are."

"We saved his life," Frost said. "But were told his parents died."

"Perhaps it is better that it remain that secret," Quartus said. "But even mere knowledge of his existence and from whence he was saved will be dangerous."

"Why is that?" Frost asked. "What is so special about him?"

The babe burst out screaming, tears falling from his eyes. The handmaiden patted his back soothingly in response, rocking him back and forth in her arms.

"Don't be so callous, Frost," Frolick said, shaking his head. "You've done gone and hurt his feelings, you have."

"I—" Frost said. Then he rolled his eyes.

"If they are studying at Everwinter, my liege," Thomas said. "They will soon put two and two together."

"Indeed, it is as I feared," Quartus said, looking somber. "I have bound myself in a trap of generosity."

"Now you have to tell us," Frost said, tilting his head. His curiosity was paramount. Besides, it wasn't like the guards and royal staff didn't know. He doubted that something like this, if it was truly compelling, would remain a secret long.

"Very well," Quartus said. "I suppose it is better that you have a full understanding of the truth so you can understand my request. Formatus est."

"What?" Frost said.

"Oh, it's just a saying," Quartus said. "Thomas, perhaps it is better if you explain."

"Indeed, Sire," he said, eying the brothers. "His majesty means a fully-formed mind, one with deep understanding of a thing, is better placed to act in alignment with the overall objective. It is a fundamental principle of the Metaverse—formatus est."

"Thomas," Quartus said, irritated. "I meant the child. Not the saying."

"Oh, right," Thomas said. "My apologies, my liege. I misunderstood."

Thomas reset his glasses and cracked his knuckles. The man stretched out his wiry fingers. "I have been researching the child's origins in order to find any known relatives in Hailstone Keep base on the account Quartus gave of his parents before they were, ahem, um, executed." Thomas paused, his lips curling down. "Such a terrible turn of events. In any case, I believe this child was one of the Sylax."

"Sylax?" Frolick said, looking at his brother. "What does that mean?"

"The Sylax," Thomas said. "Are a Frostmarked tribe to the south of Hailstone Keep. Unfortunately, given their geographic location, they were the first to be attacked by the Flintlock."

"They were caught completely off guard," Quartus said, shaking his head. "A terrible thing. But in a way, their deaths alerted us to the Flintlock incursion. I traveled down to save as many as I could."

Frost clenched his teeth. The mere mention of the genocide made him want to stand up and fight.

"There's more," Thomas said. "There is an ancient prophecy in Frosthaven. That we are to await the ascent of the Fifth King—the Quintus."

"Fifth King?" Frost said. "Quintus?"

"I am referred to as Quartus," the king said. "But it is more of a title than a name. When we met and you failed to recognize me, I realized you were foreigners. My real name is Titus."

Frost gawked. Quartus, er Titus, had been right. There was so much he didn't understand. It was all quite confusing.

"All kings of the Fourth Age are known as Quartus. However, it is said that the dawn of the Fifth Age will come from the Sylax," Quartus said.

"Interesting," Frolick said. "But how do you know that this child is the child of prophecy?"

"We do not," Thomas said. "But given that his tribe was wiped out, it seems a reasonable guess that he could be the —"

"You can say it," Quartus said.

"Quintus," Thomas said. "The Fifth King. Or, perhaps more correctly stated, the first of the Fifth line of kings in the dawn of the Fifth Age."

"I have no heirs," Quartus said. "Should I die, it's not clear how the throne would continue."

"Scholars have been studying the question quite intently," Thomas said. "Including myself. We believe there may be sufficient legal justification to pass your line to your niece."

"Alta?" Frolick said, eyes wide. "A Queen?"

"Speculative," Quartus said, nodding. "The Council of Elders will have final judgment on that matter when the time comes. Unless the Council determines that the Fifth Age has dawned, in which case, well, we simply aren't sure."

"What would let them make that determination?" Frolick asked.

"The prophecies are not entirely clear," Thomas said. "However, most scholars believe that the Fifth Age will begin with death and destruction."

"Such as?" Frolick asked, tilting his head.

"Such as," Thomas said, furrowing his brows. "The destruction of Hailstone Keep, a bloody massacre, and the death of the last Quartus."

Frost and Frolick gulped.